Page 12 of A Reckless Indulgence

There’s venom in her tone, but beneath that, Cav swears there’s a hint of amusement. He wonders if it shows up in her eyes, but there’s no telling when his own are sealed shut. “Then let me repay you,” he tries. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Lyx’s laugh is a delicious sound in the back of her throat. “Look at the state of you. There’s nothing you could give me, Cavalier.” Her cool breath gusts across his face when she leans closer. “There’s even less that you could stop me from taking.”

It’s clearly a threat, yet his body’s reaction is the faint stirring of the ember in his chest. His tongue slips over his lips and brushes against something even softer.

She inhales sharply. He can feel it across his face. His stomach clenches. She must be close. He lifts his hand to pry the crust from his eyes, but she snatches his wrist and pins it to the ground. They stay like that, breaths heaving and hearts racing. He still can’t see her. Danger prickles beneath his scales, but Cav wants to push it further. Wants to feel her entire body against him. Wants to drag his tongue against her lips again. “Are you sure there’s…nothing I could give you?”

Her nails dig into his skin. He imagines her glaring down at him, teeth grit with frustration. “Don’t mistake me, pirate. Your death is still coming, and it’s mine to deliver.”

He hates that she releases him. His fingers flex at the loss, but she’s already splashing through the shallows. He calls after her, like that might incite her to stay. To punish his insolence. “Is that why you healed me?”

She pauses, but then, she continues away. All he gets is her voice tossed over her shoulder. “It’s not as fun to kill you when you’re halfway dead already.”

FIVE

Cav

No one can say Cav doesn’t pay for his indiscretions.

He waits at the docks for hours before the ferry master takes pity on him. With Cav’s black eye and bloody sleeve, he’s surprised that anyone offers him a ride, but he won’t look a gift fish in the mouth.

The sun hasn’t yet begun to rise. He still has time to get back to the Indulgence, but he hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours, and a cramp is spreading through his shoulder. Despite that, the only thing occupying his mind is Lyx. He leans back in his seat on the ferry and watches the wealthy island fade into the fog.

Seeing Lyx again was…

Every word that comes to mind is foolishly sentimental. Did he learn nothing from the night before? She’d rather see him dead than take him up on his offer to meet Heathen, but maybe that can work in his favor. Maybe she’ll show up today just to try and kill him again. Or maybe he thinks too highly of himself; it’s possible she’s just glad to be rid of him, but the way she lunged at him last night…

Heat coils in his stomach. Lyx may hate him, but that means she feels something. Hate isn’t apathy. Hate, he can work with.

The ferry bumps against the dock as they arrive. Compared to the glimmering wealth behind them, this island looks like a makeshift stand on the side of the road. Cav slips the driver a few coins and stretches out his shoulder.

Just seeing the Indulgence makes him breathe easier. The ship takes up a good portion of the small port, the deep magenta and emerald sails creating a perfect backdrop for the sensual golden sigil. Tableaus are carved into the sides of the ship. Even the prow is meant to tempt passerby, a figurehead of three creatures entwined in bliss.

It’s a shame the ship’s exterior is the most salacious thing about it. With a huff, Cav crosses the dock and climbs the Indulgence’s rope ladder.

The ship is barely awake. Below deck, the crew begins to stir, but no one appears from the hatchway. If Cav hurries, he can get cleaned up before Heathen catches him. If he lays low for the next few days, his face can heal, and —

“Heathen’s not gonna be happy about that.”

Cav’s jaw clenches. When he lifts his eyes to the forecastle, he sees Cypher scrawling in a tattered journal. She looks like a piece of parchment, light skin covered in tattoos that morph and shift. Black markings linger on her cheek like a spilled inkwell. Her pet crow sits on her shoulder, blinking its beady eyes and nuzzling the stubble of Cypher’s shaved head. Her entire being screams to stay away. Cav wonders if she’s always been this way, or if it’s a side effect of her curse. He doesn’t dare ask; she’s already hostile enough as it is.

She doesn’t bother to look at him, tapping the quill beside her eye until the ink in her skin morphs to match Cav’s bruising.

Asshole.

He hoists himself aboard and grabs a clean rag from the clothesline. “Heathen doesn’t need to know.”

“She already does.” Cypher’s quill twitches toward the captain’s quarters. “You’re late to your meeting.”

“What meeting?”

“The one Heathen called five minutes ago.” She yawns. “When they stormed across the deck cursing your name.”

Cav dips the rag into a barrel of rainwater. Of course Heathen found out about his extracurricular activities. Granted, he wasn’t inconspicuous, but he didn’t think word of his misdeeds would get back to the Indulgence before he did. He scrubs at the crusted blood on his knuckles. That means someone told Heathen. Someone went out of their way to point it out to her, interrupting her morning routine when they all know she hates any disturbance to her schedule.

“Did you tell them?” he accuses.

Cypher sighs. “Stalling for time, huh?”