Page 11 of Beneath the Veil of Tides
“Scream loud if you need us,” Calvin whispered and stalked out, leaving the god and I alone.
“He does know that all of my senses are amplified, right? God blood, and all.”
Just when I believed I’d be safe with the crew, they threw me into the grasps of a banished, lying god.
I didn’t respond, only tiptoed over him and stared at the hammock. I had no inkling how to get inside of it, how to climb in without flipping myself straight to the floor.
“Your entire body goes into it,” Noctis smoothly drawled, his eyes closed. Shadows cast over his face, the scars illuminating in the night like lightning bolts cutting through hisskin, raw and angry, as if a jagged blade had torn through the flesh itself.
I carefully placed my knee into the netting and pulled myself over it. It shifted savagely, my heart pounding at its motion when I nearly toppled over, a high-pitched squeal escaping my lips.
Great. Weak looking already.
The god huffed in amusement, his eyes still drawn closed.
The irony wasn’t lost on me—rocked to sleep in a cradle of knots, when my kind were made to escape them.
“Tell me, Caelyn,” Noctis murmured from the floor. My heart pounded against my chest as his words filled the room. “Do you have any memories at all? Or did the Ocean Mother steal them like she normally does?”
There was no reason for him to know what ran through my head. It would make me weak, and as my body began to detest the panic and weigh it down as exhaustion instead in his presence, I needed him to know I was anything but powerless—even if that’s exactly how I viewed myself.
“It won’t stop me from eating your heart.”
He chuckled, but I caught the emptiness in the sound. “You wouldn’t have struck me as a cannibal. I’m sure that organ of mine would be foul, though.”
“Probably.”
Silence settled like layers of dust. Every shuffle of his body against the wooden floor panels startled my eyes back open.
A specific word spoken that day spun within my mind over and over, raking its invisible nails against my skin and leaving behind flesh bumps.
“What is a Thirstling?” The question spilled from my lips without second thought.
Noctis remained silent, the hanging lantern light dancing across his face. His eyes slowly peeled open, brows downturned as he met my questioning gaze.
“Young blood drinkers. Freshly turned.”
The feeling lingered, as if I had missed something important, while my body strained to open the gates within my head.Except, it failed miserably, the tidal wave of emotions surging through me much more miserable than the sacrifice itself.
However, the day’s adrenaline had waned, so when I unsheathed the dagger from my thigh and held it across my chest for defense, sleep found me in seconds.
I’d get answers in the morning. If Isurvived it.
CHAPTER SIX
Sunlight filtered through the cracks above me that next morning, along with an argument rumbling into fullness on the main deck, jerking me awake.
I survived the night.My head whipped to the floor where the god slept the night before, but it was empty.
“Sailing through Serpentwake is adeath wish. If the Marrowtwists rise, this task won’t be the only thing shattered.Kingdomswill fall with it,” Zahara argued, each word increasing in volume.
Serpentwake? Marrowtwists? Death wish?
We’d just beat death the day before, and now, they discussed running back into danger. I’d pick the scales from my skin just to get a moment’s rest.
The hammock shook as I threw myself from it, landing where Noctis called his own bed. If only he’d still been there, so the boots still latched to my feet would have crushed his sound pipe and hopefully his raging ego.
I ascended the stairs silently, freezing mere feet from the crew standing around the table mid-conversation. They discussed our next steps, fear lacing my senses at the debate arising. Calvin caught my confused glance and strutted from the table to my side.
