Across the Midnight Sea

Chapter 22: The Storm

A reminder that this story does have a trigger warning for a reason-these things are not the focus of the story but they are a part of it none-the less. Reader Digression is advised.

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"You think you're special don't you Emericus?" Verek's voice was low in his ear, and Imre shivered despite the heat of his skin. One of Verek's hands was pressed firmly to the back of his neck pushing Imre down into the pillow. "You are," it was a breathy whisper and Imre shuddered.

Verek's other hand pinched at one of the wounds on his back.

Imre hissed at the pain, then turned his face further into the pillow. He would rather suffocate than give Verek satisfaction.

"She knows it too," Verek's fingers gentled stroking along his skin.

Don't touch me, don't fucking touch me, the mantra in Imre's head that he didn't dare say out loud. 

"Such a pity you made me ruin such soft skin."

Don't fucking touch me.

"You brought this one on yourself though Emericus..."

Don't.

"She did a good job patching you up though..."

Imre thought of her hands on his back, so gentle so tender, and then he shoved those thoughts aside not wanting to taint them with the present.

"Does she know who you really are?" Verek's fingers grazed over a fresh wound and Imre almost wished it would be more painful so that he could block out the other intent that was there, always there with Verek, simmering just under the surface.

Verek squeezed at Imre's neck.

"Does she?"

"No," Imre ground out.

"She would hate you if she knew, you know that don't you?"

She wouldn't, a part of Imre's mind protested, and yet...Verek's words turned Imre's stomach in a very different way. Would she hate him? If she knew?

It doesn't matter, when all this is done, you'll never see her again.

The ship rocked and Verek stumbled releasing Imre and slamming into the far wall.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" he muttered looking around.

Nicholi knocked on the door.

"Its storming!" the thin man's voice came from the other side. "Things are getting...Oh my god!"

There was a horrible wrenching noise and the ship trembled.

Imre lifted up against the chains and tried to brace for the next wave. 

Verek stepped towards the door.

"Don't move."

As if I could, thought Imre flexing his hands against the shackles.

Before he could touch the handle one of the crew burst through the door. ""We need all hands on deck," the sailor took one look at Imre. "Get him bellow. We'll need this room for the others."

"What?" Verek straightened. "You have no authority of my actions."

"But I do," said Smither's as he shouldered his way through into the tiny room with a body slung over one of his massive shoulders. "You heard him, get that slave down bellow"

The sailor groaned as Smither's laid him down against the wall.

"We need the bed for this man."