Chapter 13 The Only Woman Aboard
Sunlight on deck hit me like a slap. Nothing like sunlight on land. Out here it was white and vicious, all teeth, shattering off the water in blinding shards. I blinked halfway up the steps, one hand on the rail, trying to scrape the dark from my eyes.
The air tasted different too. Raw. Seaweed and salt, wind so clean it burned going down. My lungs weren’t used to it after years of hearth smoke and spilled ale. The deck shifted under my boots and the motion caught me off guard, sharper than before.
Laughter snapped across the deck.
“Thought we’d lost you to the spirits!” A Male voice called out.
I looked up. Men clung to the rigging overhead like oversized crows, bare chests burned brown by the sun, ribbons and coins braided through their hair. Others lounged along the rail with tin mugs in hand, all of them watching me like I was the evening’s entertainment.
Of course I was.
Bram stood a step behind me, arms folded, looking faintly pleased with himself, as if he’d personally taught me how to stand upright again. Reed hovered nearby too, practically glowing, his grin big enough to split his face.
I’d never been on a ship before, but even I could tell this one was strange.
No chains. No lashes. No men barking orders.
The crew moved loose and easy, like dock cats who’d decided the world belonged to them. Even the cook watched me from the galley window while tossing dough into the air one-handed. Bald, thick as an anvil, and clearly enjoying the show.
My gaze snagged on a darker figure at the far rail.
Talon.
Lean, dressed in black like a blade someone forgot to sheath. Arms crossed, expression blank. But his eyes flicked constantly, measuring everything. The deck. The crew.
Me.
And at the helm stood the captain. I knew it before Bram muttered behind me.
“Captain Harrow.”
He wore command like a well-cut coat. Clean shirt open at the throat, knife at his belt that looked more decorative than necessary. His green eyes found mine immediately, sharp and amused, and that crooked smile was exactly as dangerous as I remembered.
He let me stand there, swaying slightly with the deck while the crew finished their laughter.
Then he started down from the helm. Boots knocked against the planks. The chatter faded. Every eye followed him.
“Glad to see you rejoined the living, tavern queen,” he said with a sweeping bow that was far too theatrical to be sincere. “We were taking bets. Bram owes me five coppers you wouldn’t last the hour.”
I lifted my chin and threw the smirk right back at him.
“If this is the afterlife, I’m disappointed. Bread’s stale. Company’s questionable.”
The deck erupted.
Quick laughter. Bright. Someone whistled. Even the cook grunted approval. Harrow’s grin widened like I’d just performed for him.
“See that, lads?” he called. “Never met a land girl with enough teeth for proper banter.”
He gestured me forward.
The crew drifted closer, curious but not hostile. A loose circle forming. Not hunters exactly. More like dogs deciding if the new thing might bite back.
I folded my arms, pretending the deck wasn’t rolling under my feet.
“You planning to parade me around all day,” I asked, “or can I go back to not dying of a concussion?”
“Depends,” Harrow said. “Are you more trouble unconscious or awake?”
He stopped two paces away. Close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes.
“We’ll be at sea two weeks before port,” he continued. “Until then you’ll bunk with one of my officers.”
“Or the hold,” someone added behind him. Probably the cook. “If you like rats.”
I snorted. “I ran a tavern for years. You don’t have enough rats to impress me.”
That one hit harder. Bigger laughter rippled through the deck. Even Talon’s mouth twitched.
Harrow’s expression shifted slightly. Still amused. But something sharper slid underneath it.
“Fine,” he said. “You choose.”
He ticked the options off lazily.
“Bram’s got a spare cot. Reed barely takes up half a bunk yet.” Reed brightened instantly. “Talon offers the quietest room… assuming you enjoy listening to him curse the stars.”
Then Harrow leaned closer, lowering his voice so only I heard it.
“Or there’s always the captain’s quarters.”
My heart skipped. Not because of the offer. Because of the way he said it.
Measured. Intentional. Like he’d tossed a spark into dry grass just to see what burned. The whole deck was watching. I refused to give them anything.
“What’s the catch?” I asked.
“No catch.” His grin sharpened. “Just like knowing where my headaches sleep.”
Soft words. Private joke.
I pretended to think about it.
Reed looked hopeful. Bram shrugged like he didn’t care either way. Talon watched me with flat, unreadable eyes.
I looked back at Harrow.
“If you snore,” I said, “I’ll smother you with your own pillow.”
The deck howled. Bram clapped my back hard enough to rattle my teeth.
“Settled then,” Harrow said lightly, gesturing toward the deck as if we’d just finished discussing the weather. “Let’s get you comfortable. Sea’s hungry today. I’d rather she not swallow the only woman aboard before supper.” He turned and the crew melted back to work like a flock scattering. Lines pulled taut. Sails snapped overhead.
Bram and Reed fell into step beside me.
The deck rose and dipped beneath my boots. I bit the inside of my cheek and focused on breathing through it.
Above us gulls screamed against the wind. I glanced out across the water and froze.
Nothing.
No land. Just endless blue in every direction. And far to the east, a dark smear on the horizon. Was it… Another ship?
Something about it made my skin prickle.
I looked back.
Harrow stood at the rail watching it too, his smile thin and sharp. He caught me looking, winked once like we shared a joke, then turned away and started calling orders.
Casual. Effortless.
Like he owned the sea.
Bram guided me below through narrow corridors that smelled of pitch and old rum. The ship creaked softly around us. He stopped at a tidy little cabin and swung the door open.
“If you change your mind,” he said, “Reed’s got blankets to spare.” Reed nodded eagerly.
“But the captain’s room…” Bram added with a grin. “Only one on the ship with windows.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And a lock?” Reed flushed so hard his freckles vanished.
“Cap doesn’t need one,” he muttered. I barked a laugh despite myself and stepped into the cabin.
Behind me the sea hammered against the hull, steady and relentless, like a giant knocking on the door.