Page 42 of Hymn of Breath and Bone

“Take your clothes off, Urchin, or I’ll take them off for you.”

The heat in Caspian’s gaze was almost otherworldly, sending sparks of desire shooting down my spine as I felt his need for me pulsing down the bond. I could see the hard length of him straining against his trousers, and my mouth dried out a little.

I let him undress me.

Chapter 16

Nordhavn was five daysnorth of the siren cliffs if we didn’t use the wind too much to manipulate our speed. Caspian was wary of attracting attention, so we carried on like any merchant vessel, albeit with a slightly unnatural advantage with the winds.

Caspian continued training me each morning, and Zephyr took over in the afternoons. It was vital, Caspian claimed, that I could defend myself if we would be hunting the Stormcrow, orwhoever was using his name. Each had different strengths, Caspian focusing on daggers and blocking while Zephyr worked on speed and evasion.

There were still two days to go and I was so sore, every muscle aching as Caspian swung his blade toward me in the morning gloom.

“Faster, Urchin,” he growled, pulling back just before he nicked me in the side. “Your opponent won’t wait for you to catch your breath.”

“You may as well skewer me now then,” I panted, a slight wheeze betraying me.

Caspian frowned, sheathing his weapon. “You promised to tell me when you were having a hard day.”

“It wasn’t that bad before we started training.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I had woken with the feeling of a heavy weight on my chest, knowing that it foretold a difficult day for my lungs, but I had hoped that taking Mira’s medicine might alleviate the symptoms.

It had not.

It was a bitter blow. For the first time in my life, I’d had days where I didn’t think about my lungs even once. Granted, Caspian had kept me too busy to dwell on them with both training and more pleasurable activities, but I’d almost forgotten how bad it could be.

“Urchin,” Caspian said, gripping my arms and kissing my brow. “Let’s take a break.”

“We’ll be landing in Nordhavn tomorrow,” I argued, stepping out of his grip. “I don’t have time to be coddled.”

“I’m not trying to coddle you,” Caspian replied, looking slightly hurt. “Mira said prevention was key. I’m trying to prevent you from having a flare-up.”

“I know my own limits,” I argued, raising my daggers. “We keep going.”

“Urchin—”

“Wekeepgoing,” I repeated, going on the offensive and aiming for one of the soft, tender areas Caspian had told me to hit.

He blocked me easily, disarming me with alarming speed and pinning my arms in front of me as he held me fast.

“Do you yield?” The edge of amusement in his tone made me struggle harder, which in turn made me wheeze. Caspian didn’t loosen his grip. “Marina?”

“Fine,” I snapped.

Caspian instantly released my wrists, but he caught me around the waist and tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. “It's not a weakness to respect your own limits, Urchin. More battles have been won by restraint than by blind stubbornness. Every good general knows when his soldiers have reached their limit.”

“Are you the general in this analogy?” I asked, finding it difficult to frown under his intense scrutiny. “Soldier king?”

Caspian smirked. “If only you took orders so easily, Urchin. Think of all the things I could make you do.” My toes curled in my boots at the purr in his voice, and I had to catch my balance against the rail when he released me. “Let me bring you tea.”

I nodded, feeling like my throat and lungs were too tight to reply properly.

The sea below the ship was choppy, and I turned to gaze at the waves cresting and falling, reaching out my awareness to the sea.

It had been a while since I’d practiced what Ran had taught me, and the sea nearly overwhelmed me before I remembered myself and built barriers around my mind to control its flow.

Indistinct shapes took form beneath the waves. A school of fish and a few sharks, a clump of kelp. There were a few forms more difficult to make out, and I wondered exactly what creatures lurked below us that I couldn’t identify. The kraken was probably somewhere down there, but a quick search through the sea turned up nothing.

A flash of blue-green caught my attention, and I pulled back from the sea’s grip to stare below us. A spiky fin emerged, cresting next to the hull before sinking below the waves again.