Page 57 of A Reckless Indulgence

With a pair of long tweezers, Cypher reaches into the jar to pluck out a green feather and carries it delicately to the object in front of her. Lyx leans in closer, pressing one hand to the top of the stairs for balance.

Cypher doesn’t notice. She adjusts the jagged, swooping shape in front of her, and when she shifts to the side, Lyx can tell she’s working on an oyster. Its shell is a roughened gray, but Cypher is more interested in what’s beneath. She opens the shell just enough to see inside before she tucks the feather into the oyster’s flesh and seals the mollusk shut again.

The ship jostles, making the floorboards creak and groan. Cypher calls over her shoulder. “Did you find the broom?”

Lyx nearly slams her fingers in the door when she scrambles backwards. Overhead, Colt’s footfalls begin to descend the spiral stairs. Lyx lets the door fall closed and clambers over the nearest supplies so she can sink deeper into the room.

Colt is whistling when he appears, using his broom to push open the door under the stairs. There’s a brief conversation before Cypher appears in the hidden doorway. She takes a few steps into the room, scanning the staircase and shelves of supplies with narrowed eyes.

Lyx covers her mouth to hide her breathing. She swears she can feel Cypher’s eyes on her, but she doesn’t move.

After a long moment, Cypher ducks back into the room and clicks the lock behind her.

TWENTY-THREE

Cav

At some point while Cav worked, Lyx disappeared.

She can’t have been gone long. Cav kept his attention on his clients, but Lyx was always in his periphery. When a burly man brushed his hand against Cav’s tail, Cav smirked toward Lyx, but she wasn’t there anymore.

Cav scans the rest of the deck, but there’s no sign of her. His chest deflates. He should have known better; it’s clear Lyx is bound and determined not to give him anything, but he thought things were shifting. He could have sworn they were this close tonight.

I want to see what it could be like. If someone let themself be captivated by you.

He tongues the wound on his lip. They were this close the night before, too, when she spit in his mouth and put her fingers down his throat until he gagged.

And Cav kept his word. He denied her. It’s almost a matter of pride, but Cav has never been attached to his ego. Hell, he was on his knees asking Lyx to slap him. If anything, what’s holding him back is desire. Desire for more — to know more, to share more, to do more than fuck her through the glory hole in the wall she’s built between them.

Most would call him foolish. Lyx would call him foolish, but he enjoys the journey as much as where he wants to end up. It’s like his mind has finally been roused from a deep sleep. Every moment with Lyx is an adventure, and if nothing else comes from it, he can at least hold onto that.

He wanders past the hatchway and sees Lyx’s cabin door ajar. Odd. Since she arrived, she’s been keeping herself sealed away behind it. He descends and raps his knuckles against the wood, prepared for Lyx to run him off. There’s no sound from within. After a moment, he presses against the door and opens the cabin…but there’s no Lyx.

His brow furrows. He walks down the corridor to ask the other crew members if they’ve seen her, but no one has. That doesn’t surprise him. Lyx isn’t the type to congregate, but where could she be? It would be less concerning if Cypher wasn’t missing, too. Cav prays they didn’t finally come to blows, but before he can check the galley for Lyx, he’s pulled back into preparing hammocks for the newcomers to sleep. By the time he turns in for the night, Lyx’s cabin door is shut again.

The next day is a whirlwind. They settle their guests in the next port and put out some errant embers that jumped from the stove. Cav hikes his brows toward Cypher. See? But she just tugs down her bandana to show him her tattoo is still there.

At least there’s sign of life from Lyx. Her washed clothing hangs on one of the clotheslines. Cav tries not to think about them, but his mind always circles back to the distraction. He gets halfway through three different tasks before he realizes he hasn’t finished any of them.

Exhausted, he collapses into his hammock. The Indulgence has been at sea for hours. The sky has long gone dark, leaving only the necessary crew on deck. Cav lost track of time, as usual. He should be sleeping, but he’s never been good at following the cycle of the sun. His mind keeps whirring long after the moon shows itself.

His hammock sways while he stares up at the pinpricks of stars. The symphony of the deck might lull him to sleep if he didn’t notice every single instrument. He picks them out one by one: idle chatter, sloshing waves, metal bumping against wood…

And bare feet padding across the deck.

A shadow passes over his face. He pushes up to peer over the side of the hammock and finds Lyx lingering by the railing, smoothing her hand over one of the clam inlays. She traces the details, curling her fingernails beneath it to pry it out of the wood.

Cav’s head tilts. “What are you doing?”

Surprise streaks across her face. She steps away from the taffrail, and the back of her knees collide with the hammock to send her stumbling. She lands ass-first in Cav’s lap, her head swinging back until both of them nearly topple. He pulls her down to keep them from falling, tangling their legs in the fabric while they curse and jostle for space.

“Why are you so jumpy?” he grunts. Her elbow digs into his ribs. “You’re allowed to be on the deck, you know. The only one keeping you confined to that room is you.”

Lyx wriggles to put distance between them, but that forces her onto her back. Her long skirt wraps around her legs, and Cav rolls onto his side to settle the swell of her hips between his knees.

When Lyx looks at him, he realizes how close her face is. Her skin glows in the dark, casting faint bioluminescence across her cheeks. It shines onto him too, darkening his scales in the blue light. Now that the commotion has subsided, it’s quiet. Only their labored breathing rises above everything else. The hammock envelopes them both and sways gently on the waves.

Cav doesn’t want to move. This moment with Lyx feels like a butterfly has chosen him, and the slightest movement might scare her away, but he’s never been good at stillness. His fingers twitch between them, brushing the skin of her thigh. Her scales prickle, but she doesn’t pull away.