Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Much appreciated,” I say dryly. I’m no white knight. If anything, I’m the villain. The people in my life would certainly say so. Without Nox at the helm, I never would have put aside my personal aims to go play savior.
Against my better judgment, my gaze cuts back to Evelyn. She’s stopped playing grab-ass with Bowen, and she’s currently carving a circle into the deck of the ship. It’s supposed to create a shield when triggered, which frees up Bowen to use his telekinetic powers for attack instead of defense. Evelyn is a damned good witch, so I have no doubt it will work.
Her pale skin has tanned a bit in the sun, and her blond hair is nearly to her shoulders now, constantly wavy from the wind and salty air. She laughs more, too. I never noticed how little she laughed when she was with me. She’s also taken to pirate fashion wholeheartedly, though she’s skipped wearing the traditional Cŵn Annwn crimson in favor of black pants that fit her full thighs and big ass to perfection, and a billowing white top that would be at home on those romance novels she loves so well.
Happiness looks good on her.
I hate it.
“Captain! The Dragon!” The call floats down from the crow’s nest.
“Fucking finally,” Nox says under their breath before raising their voice to nearly a roar. “Look alive, chaps!”
I give them a sharp look. “Surely you don’t mean to attack another Cŵn Annwn ship out in the open?” We might have a crew full of powerhouses, but so do most Cŵn Annwn ships. I don’t relish the idea of a sea battle against another ship. The monsters we’ve come up against in the three months I’ve been aboard are enough to give me nightmares—not that I’d ever admit it aloud. Give me a fight on solid ground any day of the week. Not this watery bullshit where one wrong move means your enemy might not even have to kill you—the sea will.
“Of course not.” They snap their fingers at their navigator, Eyal. He’s a tall, lean man with dark brown skin and gorgeous bright blue locs. “Keep us on this course. I don’t want it to look like we’re in pursuit.”
Eyal nods, but I have questions about the order. “We are in pursuit.” We’re moving fast, too, thanks to the air elemental users on the crew filling the sails with their magic. I can clearly see the Drunken Dragon now. It has to be a ship nearly the same size as ours, and yet it looks no bigger than a quarter. I shudder. I fucking hate the open water.
“You’re lucky that you’re pretty, darling.” Nox leans close. “I can only take one person with me, but I need someone who can do crowd control without risking my asset. We have two options for who that person is. It’s you or Bowen. Choose.”
I stare. An attack on an entire ship with only two is a massive risk, though both Bowen and I are more than capable of taking out a group of humans within seconds. Except we aren’t talking about mundane humans. Most of the Cŵn Annan crews are filled with magic users and paranormal beings, some of whom are easily as powerful as I am. At least in theory.
I should tell Nox to take Bowen. If he dies, then Evelyn can fall weeping into my arms, and . . . I glance at my ex again. She’s finished the circle and is sitting on her heels, chatting easily with two crew members.
Happy. She’s so fucking happy.
Damn it. “I’ll do it.”
Nox leans closer. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about your noble streak.”
I’m not noble. I wouldn’t know what noble looked like if it bit me in the ass. “They might have information on the Crimson Hag aboard that ship. I want to get to it before any of your ham-handed crew fucks up my evidence.” The sooner I find that ship, the sooner I can get back to the familiar: death and darkness and familial obligation.
“Sure, darling. Whatever you say.” Nox once again raises their voice, roaring orders. I follow them to the stern, watching closely as they shrug out of their dramatic crimson coat and hand it off to their quartermaster, Poet. “Keep this safe for me, love.” They keep stripping, taking off their crimson vest and crimson shirt, then peeling off their crimson pants. Nox really commits to the bit when it comes to being one of the damned Cŵn Annwn. “These, too.”
“You know, your cabin is right there. You don’t have to strip out in the open.”
“Lizzie, has anyone ever told you that you’re a stick-in-the-mud?” I didn’t realize Poet brought replacement clothing until Nox pulls on a formfitting black catsuit and grins at me.
“They’ll be in your cabin when you get back.” Poet—a large woman who looks like she kicks down walls for fun—has broad shoulders and a thick waistline. Her light brown skin is covered with sailing tattoos and her long brown hair is tied back from her strong face. She turns severe dark eyes on me. “Don’t get our captain killed.”