Page 67 of A Warrior's Heart
“No.” The most seductive little growl left him as he locked his hands behind my neck and nipped at my bottom lip. “I forbid you to stop. Kiss me until I’m breathless.”
“If you insist.” I backed him up against the post of the crow’s nest and captured his mouth.
He groaned and slid his tongue against mine. His taste had my cock aching. I drank down his soft moans, pressing closer against him.
Remembering where we were, I pulled away.
Shar stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the stairs, while Nereus sat on the steps beside him, smirking at me. Reif stood beside Kellan at the helm, a trace of a smile on his lips as well.
Later that evening, Reif approached me in the kitchen below deck. I had gone down to find a snack for Troy.
“I’m happy for you, brother.” Reif clapped me on the back. “If not a little envious.”
“I need to keep it behind closed doors for the time being,” I said, grabbing leftover bread from dinner and raspberry jam Eva had canned days ago. “A warrior must focus on the mission. Not become lost to lust.”
“It’s not lust that you feel for him.” Reif leaned against the cupboard. “If it were, you would’ve already fucked him senseless. No. I believe it’s love you feel. And love, my friend, is beautiful.”
“Perhaps.” I wrapped the bread in a cloth and faced him. “Yet, my words hold true. I can’t lose focus. Whatever I feel for Troy must not become priority.”
“Then why does he wait for you in your cabin as we speak?” Reif arched a dark brow. “Why do you look more alive right now than I’ve ever seen you?”
“A warrior—”
“Is also but a man.” Reif squeezed my shoulder before dropping his arm back to his side. “Now leave my sight. You have a boy to see.”
Troy was sitting on the bed when I returned to my cabin. His legs were crisscrossed as he hummed to himself, flipping through one of Eva’s medical journals.
“Anything of interest within those pages?” I asked, placing his snack on the small table beside the bed. It was secured to the floor so it wouldn’t move when the ship did.
He nodded and scooted closer to me when I sat beside him. “Look here.” He pointed to a drawing of a long-stemmed flower with star shaped petals. “This plant is found deep in the mountains and only blooms at night.”
“What is its medical purpose?”
“That’s why it’s so fascinating,” Troy said with excitement rich in his tone. “It battles dark magic and can erase any spell. Cure any illness associated with magic. Eva told me a story once about a princess who was set to marry the king of a warring land. Their marriage was to bring peace to their kingdoms. Well, an enchantress wanted this king for herself and was greatly angered by the announcement of his engagement to another woman. And so, she transformed herself into a crow and entered the princess’ bedchamber. As the princess slept, the enchantress dripped a potent poison onto her lips, and the poor princess fell gravely ill. The king, who had fallen in love with the princess, did everything in his power to cure her. But alas, not even the greatest physicians the kingdom had ever seen were able to help her.”
I cared little for the story. However, I enjoyed the way Troy told it. I could listen to him speak for hours. When he wasn’t giving me attitude anyway.
“What happened to the princess, you ask?” Troy feigned shock. “That’s where the story takes an interesting turn. A trusted seer who worked for the king told him the princess had become victim to dark magic, and the only cure was to drink an elixir created by this flower.” Troy tapped the drawing with his finger. “The king set out to find it.”
“Did he reach the princess in time?” I asked.
“Of course!” Troy smiled before tearing into the wrapped cloth. He dipped the edge of the bread into the jam and shoved it into his mouth. “What kind of story would it be if it didn’t end happily?”
A realistic one, I nearly answered. Yet, I didn’t wish to crush his dreams of happily ever after and how good triumphed over evil. So, I let him keep dreaming.
“What became of the evil enchantress?” I asked.
“She was bound by a heavy chain and tossed into the sea to drown. One legend says that a merman found her, breathed life back into her, and they fell in love. Their offspring is said to have produced the first mage with merfolk’s blood.”
“Like your sister.”
He nodded and held the book to his chest. “I like that story. It shows that not everyone who’s wicked stays that way, that people can learn, grow, and change for the better.”
“Not all souls can be redeemed, young one,” I said, thinking of King James. He didn’t have an ounce of good in him.
My somber mood lifted when I saw jam at the corner of Troy’s lips.
“What are you—”
