Page 146 of Crown of the Courtesan

Here I am, exactly as he desires.

And if he gets his way, I’ll become nothing but a ghost. But he doesn’t scare me—not anymore.

He reaches down and offers me help. I ignore it and untangle myself, rising to my feet. Behind him, the sun crests the cloudy horizon, sending dusky rose hues through the fading night sky as the stars disappear one by one.

Without warning, an excruciating pain sears through my finger and into my wrist, enveloping my bones and sinews in fiery agony. Doubled over, I groan and clutch at it, rubbing the skin as if that will rid me of these sensations.

Alarm flashes across Ashland’s contorted face, and Valora yells something at the crewmates.

Ashland rips my clasped hands apart. “Let go,” he snarls, “so I can see it.”

But the pain is too much. I snatch my hand back, hiding it in the folds of my skirt, shielding it. A million little fires erupt under my skin. My breathing quickens as I fail to stay calm.

Ashland is far stronger and easily pries my palm open, revealing the swirling crimson lines spreading from where my ring once was into my entire hand, glowing and pulsing, aching and burning.

He holds my wrist upward between us, his vicious eyes ripping into mine with revulsion. “You agreed to a Bonding Betrothal?” He practically lifts me off my feet as I stand on my tiptoes. He studies my ring finger in the small space wedged between our close bodies.

“I didn’t know this would happen,” I moan, tears falling as the lines sear deeper into my curdling flesh. Remembering Erah’s parting words makes my stomach lurch.

Will my lifeblood consume me?

“Uh… I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but we have a new problem—due south,” Valora warns, sprinting to the ship’s edge, peering at the receding sandstone palace in the distance. A naval ship with the three-headed lion stamped on its rippling flag chases us with increasing speed as it grows larger and larger into view.

Valora barks a slew of orders to the crew. Every sailor runs to their posts, working together at breakneck speed.

I cry out wordlessly, gasping, trying to make sense of the upheaval.

Ashland stares at me with equal pity and disgust. “You’re bonded to him?” His whispered disbelief while he still holds me in his arms hurts in ways I can’t describe.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” I weep, desperate to change everything—wishing I had a sliver of control.

The pain spreads into my veins.

With a burst of buried strength, I rip away from his clutch and stumble across the rocking ship, tears blurring my vision.

Cannonballs whiz past us, plunging into the ocean’s abyss.

Ashland rushes to join Valora with the crew, ordering them to ready our ammunition.

The sails shift as the winds pick up. What little of the sunrise that remains is now covered in swirling, dark clouds sweeping in from the far horizon.

The Cliodna turns sharply, tilting to an extreme degree. I fall backward until my spine crashes into a mast. I hold on to it as our vessel leans further and further askew.

And then I see it, and my mouth drops into a startled, unspoken scream. In the ocean, a massive whirlpool opens like an eye. It whirls and sucks, ripping the waves out from under our hull as it slowly drags us downward.

Valora yells, “They have control of the water! Our cannons can’t fire from this angle!”

“We’ll crash to the bottom if it doesn’t stop,” screams a sailor. “Someone get the captain!”

“The captain’s a bit busy!” A sailor points up at the highest point of the ship toward a group of men working to saw through a knotted rope that keeps a sail tangled.

But I only have eyes for the tiny glint of emerald and burgundy reflecting off a broad-shouldered figure on the opposing ship.

Rett.

Rett follows me.

“Why won’t he let me go?” I cry out, still cradling my injured hand.