Page 71 of Heir of Broken Souls

“Covered good ground, I see.” Elysia freezes, a deep frown marring her face. “Or should I say water?” She shakes her head with a sigh. “It doesn’t sound the same, though.”

Axel rolls his eyes. “Gods, what did you two do to her?”

“They bathed me,” Elysia declares with a hiccup.

We get a few questioning looks, and Harlow points an accusatory finger at the men. “It wasn’t like that and you know it.”

Elysia wobbles over to the side, flopping down upon a built-in bench. “Harlow is the best hair washer in the whole world. I swear, her fingers are like little angels.”

A bark of laughter erupts from Axel’s chest, the sound making Harlow groan as she finds her own spot next to Elysia. “Gods, they’re never going to live this down now.”

Knox has draped himself at the front of the ship, while Lenox and Axel sit perpendicular to the drunk women.

I straighten. If we’re all accounted for, then who’s steering? My head whips to the wheel, and it’s unaccompanied.

“What on the forgotten gods are?—”

“Look closer,” Knox calls out, a hint of humor in his voice.

I squint, because the faerie wine makes everything blur, and find a shadowed hand resting atop the wheel. It lifts, wiggling its fingers in a tantalizing hello.

My head throws back on a deep chuckle. “Of course,that’show you have been steering the ship.”

The girls cackle at the sight too. Harlow snorts. “Lazy fools.”

“I’d like to see you stand there for over ten hours staring at nothing but endless water.” Knox waves his hand in the direction of the wheel. “Go on, little firecracker, give it your best shot.”

“Careful,” Lenox chides. “The wheel is wooden. Wouldn’t want her temper getting the best of her.”

Harlow’s mouth gapes open, and I’m surprised my own doesn’t. Lenox threw a jab at her for the first time in weeks.

Lenox’s eyes harden at our shock. “What?” he snaps, breaking the spell we all seemed to be under.

Knox clears his throat, dragging my heavy-lidded gaze to him. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at the sight of my sun-kissed mate. His shoulders are loose, his face clear of worries, and his eyes sparkle as bright as the day I met him. We certainly haven’t forgotten why we’re here, but the space from Aloriah is at least giving everyone a chance to heal—to breathe.

Stumbling forward, a small part of me realizes it’s not wise to get this drunk on a ship, but with the heady feeling rushing through my body I couldn’t care less right now. Toppling forward, my arms stretch out for Knox, not at all surprised when he catches me, because he will always be there for me when I fall.

He quickly places me on his lap, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. His lips graze my cheek with a soft, teasing kiss. Goosebumps spread down the length of my arms, and Knox’s lips tip upwards knowingly.

Harlow snaps her fingers. “Where’s the dinner we were promised?”

Elysia gasps. “Did you pull us away from the wine”—she hiccups—“for no reason?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Axel groans quietly before rising. Elysia watches him, her eyes glazed. The wine has dropped all her walls, though, and she looks at him with nothing but awe.

Axel returns a short moment later with a bucket, and by the horrid smell coming from it, it’s full of fish.

Harlow grimaces. “There’s no forgotten god that could make me cook that, let alone eat the pod’s leftovers.”

“Then you starve,” Lenox says, back to his monotone voice.

She shrugs and simply says, “I can live off wine.”

“No, you can’t, not when we need to keep a level head for what’s to come.” Knox’s chest rumbles behind me. “As entertaining as you might be right now, no more alcohol from this point forward. The prophecy hints to a battle at dawn, and we need to be on high alert. We don’t know which day it’s alluding to.”

Harlow straightens. “Not only do you want me to eat their rotten fish?—”

“It’s fresh,” Lenox cuts in.