Page 69 of Heir of Broken Souls

Axel no longer has the other half of his soul.

And I… My list will crumble me, so I shake my head to push it away for now.

“She is breaking right now and we need to help her,” I say softly.

My words snap her out of her frozen stupor and without saying anything, Harlow is with me, rushing for the cabin below, to the woman we selfishly ignored when she ran to us with nothing but the clothes on her back the day her mother and two sisters were brutally murdered before her eyes.

Axel follows our every move until we descend the stairs out of sight.

And for once, I pray that all the Fae ears on this ship overheard me.

Chapter25

Knox

The first thing I hear is giggling as I approach the cabin door. The moment I knock, the giggles cease, and short whispers and snorts follow.

“If we’re quiet they’ll leave!”

At Delilah’s hushed whisper, which was hardly quiet at all, I grin. I shove the door open and soak up Delilah’s flushed cheeks as her glazed eyes fly to mine in a startled scream. Harlow and Elysia react in the same manner but my eyes can never stray far from my mate.

She sighs dramatically, a hiccup soon following as she smacks a hand to her chest and chastises, “You scared the living daylights out of me, Knox!”

Crossing my arms over my chest, my grin turns feline as she traces the movement. With a quick flex, her cheeks flush crimson. I have to bite my tongue to hold back my smirk. “I knocked.”

“And no one answered,” Harlow slurs.

I keep my gaze on Delilah, ignoring my drunk spy. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Of course you are,” Harlow drawls.

Delilah snorts before rising on wobbly legs. I’m next to her in a heartbeat, my hands reaching out to steady her.

She tips her head back and giggles. “The floor moved before I did.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She pulls away with a hiccup. “You’re not interrupting atallll.” Her eyes land on my drenched shirt. “What happened?”

I can’t hold back my eye roll. “Fucking Amelia.”

“That one’s trouble,” Harlow calls out before taking a swig of a bottle that’s nearly empty.

It’s nice to see alcohol aiding in fun and not sadness. I clear my throat before I can think on that for too long. “They’re all trouble.”

I make sure Delilah is steady before peeling away, but my hands turn cold the instant I’m no longer touching her. It’s always this way. She is the light of my life, my warmth, my strength, my happiness. It’s dangerous how much I depend on her, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I retrieve a clean linen shirt from our bags in the corner of the room and stride toward the bathroom. “Well, ignore me. Resume your fun. I just need to freshen up.”

“What’s for dinner?” Harlow calls as I shut the door.

“Fish” is my resolute answer, yet the girls laugh manically.

Frowning, I pop my head out the door to find Harlow with her hand on her hip doing a gods-awful interpretation of me as she slurs, “Fish.”

Delilah catches my eye and with a twinkle in her gaze, the door to her mind opens. Within is a memory playing for me.

I reach out tentatively, always gentle with her, and watch as the girls snicker while they drink earlier in the night, making fun of how no one aboard the ship can cook and we’ll no doubt be feasting on small fish the pod throws our way.