Chapter 40: Tempest Tossed
Maeve
I cursed under my breath as another pan slid across the kitchen work table, slamming into the floor with an audible thud. I reached for it, thrown off balance as another wave violently rocked the ship.
Olly appeared, a large set of keys in one hand as he steadied himself on the doorframe. “No dinner tonight, Maeve. Throw some water on the fire while I lock up the cabinets.”
I moved to the water pump, gripping the sink as we rocked back and forth. I felt sick to my stomach by the motion but filled a large bucket with water nonetheless. I could hear Olly tossing random items in the cabinets, his keys jangling and scraping against the wood surfaces as he locked each one.
I opened the wood stove, leaning back as I tossed the bucket of water on the embers and closed the air filters, shutting the door to the oven tightly. “Is everything okay?” I asked, not bothering to mask my concerned expression.
“We’re fine, just a bit of rough weather.” His face betrayed his words, however. His brow was furrowed, his mouth pursed in a tight line.
“Have you been in many storms before?” I asked, my anxiety beginning to rise as the boat was tossed violently to the side once more. hissed, rubbing my hip where I had bumped into the side of the worktable.
“I have, but never this far out in open water. We usually find a port to wait out the storm but-Olly was cut off by a wave crashing into the circular window on the far wall of the kitchen.
“How big are these waves?!” I asked, panicked.
“Pretty damn big,” he said, his face going pale as he spoke. He was gripping the counter, watching the window in alarm. “You’d better head back to your cabin, Maeve. I need to go fetch Meran.”
I nodded, taking off the apron and hanging it on a hook near the doorway to the galley’s dining room. It was empty, all the chairs put away in the closets along the walls. The tables had been nailed to the floor, and now I knew why.
I climbed the stairs to the second floor, which housed the staterooms. I could hear the crew on the deck above my head, running along the floorboards as they fought the pitch of the waves.
“Batten down the hatches!” came a voice from above, followed by the sound of thunder. I winced, suddenly remembering the storm that had marked Troy’s first night in the castle. It felt like so long ago now. A lifetime ago.
I walked into the room I shared with Troy, the bed still unmade from our rushed and desperate coupling. An odd sensation gripped my chest as I shut the door behind me, sinking against the heavy wood of it as I closed my eyes and let the memory wash over me like the waves hitting the boat. I hoped he would come back again tonight, but that seemed unlikely given the circumstances.
Plus, I had sworn to hate him for all eternity. Having him in my bed would defeat the purpose of that, I supposed.
I changed out of my clothes, standing naked in the room and holding on to the wall for support as the ship continued to rock back and forth. I opened one of the doors along the wall and fished through Troy’s things, grabbing one of his shirts and a pair of loose-fitting thermal pants that were meant for much cooler weather, but they were all that would fit around my waist. The shirt smelled like him, and I was instantly comforted, even if I hated myself for admitting it.
“What does one do while riding out a storm on the high seas?” i said to myself, looking around. The bed seemed like the safest place to be. I could be tossed around on the mattress by the waves and not bruise myself like I had in the kitchen, at least.
So, I climbed into the bed, unruffling the quilt and bringing it up to my chest as ! laid back against the pillow, my eyes fixated on the ceiling.
I listened to the men above fighting with the storm. Had I heard Troy’s voice yelling commands? Was that Pete’s voice crying out in reply?
I thought of Myla, tucked up in Keaton’s quarters, wondering what she was doing right at this moment. I thought of Cleo, who was probably panicking, in the room right across the hallway from my own.
I should go to her, I thought, but my legs didn’t move. I was tired, the boat inadvertently rocking me to sleep.
Eventually, I closed my eyes, letting shallow sleep waft over me, waking two or three times to the sound of thunder. I didn’t realize I was clinging to the mattress until the door swung open and bounced off the wall, bouncing several times before the boat pitched in the opposite direction and the door slammed shut again.
I inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to calm myself the way my mom had taught me.
Chapter 40: Tempest Tossed
Count to three, I thought, holding my breath. One. TWO…Threes,
I rolled across the bed as the boat was suddenly thrown to the side, my head cracking against the wall. My ears were ringing, and I had nearly bitten through my lip. I rolled back over, clutching the side of my head and closing my eyes, groaning in pain.
“Get up!” Troy had suddenly appeared, his voice cutting through the sound of the sea hammering against the ship. He threw the quilt from the bed, pulling me into his chest as the room abruptly pitched to the side again, sending anything that wasn’t nailed to the floor flying through the air. We slammed into the far wall, Troy’s body absorbing the blow and protecting me from crashing into the rows and rows of built-in shelving, the cabinets rattling from the impact.
gasped, clutching his shoulders as the ship pitched violently to the other side, flinging us back onto the mattress.
“We have to get above deck!” he cried, wrapping his arm around my waist and getting me to my feet. The door to the room was open, swinging and slamming into the wall as the boat continued to be rocked by waves. I felt bile rising in my throat as we were thrown sideways once again, Troy clutching me to his chest with one arm while his free hand grasped the doorframe.
I heard yelling on the deck above our heads, the sound cutting through the violent scraping of crates sliding across the deck and slamming into the railing.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Yeah sorry full of crap clichés skipping chapters...
Really oh fn....off another weak heroine roll, her pack hated her, she was abused, why would she do this .... pfghhj off at another cliche novel. .... Nope...