*MATURE FANTASY*
Bound by fate, torn by betrayal.
Their souls are intertwined.
She is his mate, and he is hers, whether or not this is something they want.
Elara has spent her life hiding from the oppressive forces of the Light, a powerful cult th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The night air was crisp and cool as Nox and I sat on the steps of the deck, a stolen bottle of pricy alcohol nestled between us. We had both indulged in more than a few swigs, the liquid burning its way down my throat and warming me from the inside out. Laughter bubbled between us, a rare moment of ease amidst the chaos of our lives aboard the ship.
I liked this rare form of his when the stony mask of a captain was lowered, and warmth flowed from him.
Tipping the bottle back, the harsh burn twisted my face before I handed the booze back to Nox. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he took it. I already anticipated the teasing to come. He loved picking on me. It was his favorite pastime when liquored up and stuck on the ship.
"Remember the first time you ever drank?" he asked, the laughter clear in his voice.
I groaned, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Oh, come on. Do we have to go there?"
"No, no, we definitely have to go there," Nox insisted, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "You got so hammered, I thought we were going to lose you overboard."
I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my own smile at the memory of my first days on the ship. Everything was terrifying and I did what I could to hide anyone from noticing my discomfort. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Even though I did not grow up walking amongst the sway of the ocean, by the time I joined the Whispering Gale I had a good balance, enough to stay on my feet with ease, even when drunk. Rylan's father had taught me balance, and how it was important when wielding a blade.
"You were a mess," Nox continued, the laughter bubbling out of him. "The cook was trying so hard to take you to bed, and even in your intoxicated form, you were able to handle yourself. Broke his fucking hand when he tried to touch you after you told him not to."
I winced at the reminder. "Yeah, those were not my finest moment." Nor was it the cook's finest moment, but he learned good and well to steer clear of me after.
Nox gave me side long glance. "I'll say, breaking a chef's hand is a huge problem. You ate nothing but stale bread until his hand healed. And since it was before we had a healer on the crew, it took a while." I thought my teeth might fall out due to some sort of vitamin deficiency at that time.
"He's hated me ever since," I muttered with a shake of my head. The only reason he started giving me real food again was probably because I earned Nox's favor.
"And then." Nox's stormy eyes brightened, as if the clouds within parted for the great finale of the story. He leaned in closer as though sharing a secret.
My stomach twisted with embarrassment before he even spoke it. "Nox. Do not." I warned.
Nox grinned, alcohol on his breath as he said, "Right there in the middle of the deck, you sneezed and shit yourself." He burst into laughter, doubling over with hilarity.
