he lowered his brow to my knuckles. I felt the love he poured into the gesture before he straightened and hardened his expression. Then he drew his sword and raced back across the plank to Blitz.
Neither he nor Priest would return until every man involved in my torture was dealt with brutally and without quarter.
Except Madwulf.
When they found him, his demise wouldn’t end in a few hours or even a few days. They would torture him for as long as they could keep him breathing.
As another surge of anguish battered my body, I stared up at the man who held me, blinking through the fog of pain. Jobah’s dark warm eyes stared back.
Dear God, it was a relief to see him.
Missed you, Captain, he mouthed, carrying me slowly, gently into the companionway.
“You, too, Jobah.” More than I could voice.
The last time he cradled me like this, I was bleeding out from a sword wound in the gut. Too bad my present injuries hurt a thousand times worse. I faced a long, rocky road ahead and wasn’t confident I would survive the battle this time.
Today, Jobah said, slowly shaping his lips around each syllable, isn’t your day.
He was reminding me of my favorite motto.
If I had the strength, I would’ve laughed. But he was right. Today wasn’t my day to die.
Tendrils of determination wound around my chest. For as long as I lived, I was still the captain of this ship. So I put on a tough face and swallowed down my pain. “How…are…new passengers?” The two badly beaten men? The slave ship? Did he understand what I was asking?
His smiling lips created a clear answer. Healed.
Good. Christ, that was great news. My old surgeon, Ipswich, while ever sour and rude, had an impressive success rate with saving people.
As Jobah conveyed me through Jade’s lower decks, a sense of peace penetrated the torment in my bones. I was finally home. If I died, it would be on my ship surrounded by loyal friends.
Dammit, no. I wasn’t going to die. I’d come too far. I had a ship to command, a map to my father’s treasure, and a crew that depended on me. I. Would. Survive.
I must have passed out before Jobah reached our destination. The next thing I remembered was bolting upward in sharp, wrenching pain. It felt as though something was digging around in my broken arm.
My spine bowed as soundless howls spluttered past my lips. Numerous hands pinned me to a flat surface. I recognized the rafters overhead. The wall of windows. The Caribbee chart tapestry on the wall. I was in my private cabin, lying face-up on top of my desk.
Priest and Ashley stood on either side of me. Reynolds held my feet. Lieutenant Flemming was here, looking on as Ipswich tortured my arm. Something hard and metal scraped against the raw bone, sending me into another thrashing fit.
They were helping me. Knowing that, I tried so hard not to cry or move. But the pain… God’s blood, I couldn’t take much more. I trembled with it. Shook. I’d been shaking since Madwulf had taken me.
Huge blue eyes appeared above my face. Compelling eyes, chiseled jaw, muscular shoulders, and so many other gorgeous body parts that I hoped to admire again someday.
Ashley watched me as I watched him, unwavering, locked. In my periphery, Priest spoke to the doctors, his words heated and firing with threatening fury.
I focused on Ashley, on his carefully controlled reserve. It bothered me how close he was staring. Oh, how my appearance must sicken him.
“I look…” I pinned my lips and silently whimpered through a fresh twist of pain. “Dreadful.”
His gaze didn’t leave mine as he gave a hard swallow. A dip of his head. A slow blink. Then he mouthed, Strong. Fierce. His brow furrowed. Too beautiful, Goldilocks.
“Liar,” I said.
But his words reminded me to give myself some merit. I’d suffered an unimaginable amount of torture over the past few weeks. I was still alive. Still fighting. My father would’ve been proud of me.
“Madwulf?” I gulped through an insufferable sweep of spasms as something was tied around my arm.
Ashley’s mouth shaped the word, Contained.
His gaze flicked to Priest, who shifted out of my view and returned a second later, opening a leather pouch. From within, he removed my compass, the jade stone, and the tiny scroll that presumably held the location of my father’s treasure.
“Thank you.” I tried to make my lips smile, but I couldn’t breathe without crying.
His features turned stony as