But Draxen isn’t exactly thinking at his best right now.

He grabs my hand and leads me in front of him. I grasp two random knobs on the helm.

“No,” he says. “Put one hand here.” He moves my hand for me. “And the other here. There, doesn’t that feel better?” His voice is as commanding and firm as ever. He enjoys telling others what to do. It’s a good trait in a captain.

I can’t help but glance over at the other end of the ship. Riden hasn’t moved from his spot, and I can’t see his face to tell if it’s changed. But I can sense what he feels.

And he does not like Draxen touching me.

That makes two of us.

“Keep the bow of the ship heading northeast. The sun is close to setting, so see that it remains behind you on your left. Once it sets, we use the stars to guide us.”

It takes some effort not to roll my eyes. “Really?” It is an innocent question. Not sarcastic.

“Yes, we should all worship the stars. They are as useful as they are beautiful. Some never change position. They are constants in the sky. Without them, we would be lost.”

“Fascinating.”

He continues to prattle on. He prefers that I stay silent. I can feel it. This change in his attitude is not really a change. It is more of a performance. Everyone changes when they want something. And right now, Draxen wants me. How can he not? I’m giving him exactly what he wants. He can’t help but be pulled nearer and nearer. That darker, pirate nature is momentarily cast aside. He is trying to enchant me in the way I’m enchanting him. It’s a usual response. But it never works, of course.

I am always the one in control.

Chapter 14

IT’S FINALLY NIGHTTIME. I can soon be done with this charade.

Unfortunately, being able to see the stars only prompts Draxen to talk more.

“You see this constellation here?” He points north. “And this one here?” He points toward the south.

“Yes.”

“They weren’t always stars.”

“What were they?” It’s incredibly sappy of him to use this story.

“They were lovers. Filirrion”—he points to the one in the south—“and Emphitria.” He indicates the one in the north. “Theirs is said to be the greatest love story ever told. Sadly, it does not end well.”

“What happened?” I ask, hoping he’ll move it along more quickly.

“There was another in love with Emphitria: Xiomen—a sorcerer of the blackest arts. He loved her dearly, but Emphitria had eyes only for Filirrion. Enraged by his jealousy, Xiomen cursed them both. He changed their forms and placed them both in the sky, on opposite ends of the world so they could never be together.”

“How tragic,” I say.

Draxen nods. “While all the other stars in the sky move, there are three constellations that never change. Filirrion and Emphitria are two of them.”

“Who is the third?”

Draxen points upward again. “Xiomen. It wasn’t enough to separate them. So he cursed himself as well. There he remains, equidistant from the two lovers, blocking their view of each other. See how he’s pointed toward Emphitria and she toward him?”

“Yes.”

“Emphitria tries to see her Filirrion, but no matter how hard she looks, she can never see past Xiomen’s form.”

If this story ever persuaded a woman to climb into bed with Draxen, I’d slice my arm off.

A soft silence follows his story. Every once in a while, I lead us off course, forcing Draxen to grab my hands and redirect me. He doesn’t think I’m trying to steer us away. He only thinks me incompetent. I’m giving him encouragement to touch me, to want more. To take me into his quarters so I can search him for the map.

The night sailor comes up top. “Shall I take over, Captain?”

“Yes, I think I’ll retire now.”

“Very good, then.”

“Come over here, girl,” Draxen demands. I follow him over to the door leading to his quarters. “Shall we continue our discussion of the constellations for a while more?”

“Oh yes.” As if we could still see the constellations while in his room. Blundering idiot. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.

Draxen lights a few candles once we’re alone in his quarters.

“Tell me more about the two lovers,” I say.

“I’ve a better idea,” he says.

Here it comes. He just wanted me alone so his crew wouldn’t see him. Or see me struggle. Though I don’t see how he can conceal what we’re doing when every man still on deck saw me enter his room.

“And what might that be?” I ask.

“Lie on the bed.”

“What for?”

He loves my questions. He wants to answer them. He wants to show me. He’s too caught up in the moment to realize this is all a ploy. He should know better. But when I focus on one man, they never can tell. They’re too caught up in, well, me.

“I’m going to show you something more magical than the stars.”

Oh yuck. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. I can’t do this. I can’t stand to hear him talk anymore. He needs to shut his mouth.

I step forward, get right into his face. “How about if I show you?” When I lift my head up to his, he greedily meets me for a kiss.

He’s not a bad kisser—though I doubt Draxen has had as much practice as Riden.

But I get no enjoyment out of this. Because I’m not bored and looking for fun. I’m trying to get something done. And I know exactly the kind of foul man Draxen is. It’s impossible to ignore when I’m so focused on the desires of his heart and mind.

I remove his coat and toss it to the floor with the intent to search it soon. Draxen takes it for an invitation. He goes right for my breeches, fumbling with the clasp.

Ugh. That’s enough of that.

I shove Draxen down onto the bed and climb on top of him. From there I make it look as though I’m hurrying to undo the belt on his pants. I can feel the lust burning in him. It’s disgusting and wretched, and I want to stamp it out.

When I get his belt buckle undone, I slide off his sword, sheath and all.

I use the end to knock him out, square on the head.

“Oof,” he says before lying down, motionless.

I’m not sure what’s worse: what I just did or what I still have to do.