Kastali Dun

Bennett watched the familiar sight materialize in the darkness. A city glowing with light, a fortress jutting up towards the sky at the top of a hill. Kastali Dun. They'd made excellent time, due, in part to his careful plotting. He'd consulted multiple charts to ensure they took the shortest, fastest route.

But it was Cat that had made the difference.

She had surprised him, using some of her magic to create a fake wind that filled their sails and propelled them forward. It drained her often, and yet, each time she rested, she insisted on starting all over again. When they'd set out from Oshea, it had been with a two day lead. Cat's magic had gained them an additional two days, perhaps more. Dragonwall would need every extra moment to prepare.

"Make ready to drop anchor!" Jonah shouted as the crew prepared for their entry into the bay.

He glanced at the woman standing beside him, watching the activity, and did a double take. He still wasn't used to her shorn hair, but had to admit, she looked even more beautiful, with her accentuated cheek bones and strong jaw, her long, feminine neck. "You're sure you do not wish to join me?" He tried to make it sound like a taunt, but it came out as a soft question. That was happening more and more around her. The taunting jibes they used to share had all but disappeared. She spoke to him in hushed tones, and the fire that had once crackled in her gaze had been replaced with something softer.

Truthfully, he didn't know what to make of it. Too often, it got his thoughts into trouble.

"I do not wish to leave this ship, as I already said."

"Very well. Did you have anything else you wanted to add to your list?" he asked, eyes roving over her side profile.

"No. It's all there."

She'd drafted a list of items, mostly for her magery. Things she needed to concoct brews for the crew. He'd gone through the list, estimated the cost of everything, and noticed that she hadn't been extravagant or overly needless with any of the items.

The Lady Faith came to a standstill as the anchor did its job. There wasn't a moment to spare as the rowboat was readied. He took with him a small group, including Jonah, who would meet with the dock master and provide the needed paperwork to allow them to remain anchored within the bay.

He bid goodbye to Cat, taking in her features in the darkness a final time, before stepping into the boat. When they reached the docks, he was met with the familiar sounds of a night in full swing. Taverns glowed, music spilling from their open doors. Revelers staggered up and down the street, some carrying tankards that sloshed onto the dirt road, others with arms around women earning their evening pay.

They split up, and he began the treck to the keep. "Seems a bit...off tonight, don't you think?" he mused, glancing about. Tris and Emmon merely grunted, too busy looking at the people they passed on the streets. He tried to catch snatches of conversation, most of which centered around the keep.

"Something's happening up at the king's castle," Tris finally said.

"Well, we'd better hope whatever it is doesn't cause us any issues," he grumbled.

It was a twenty minute walk through the city, taking the fastest route. His legs were barking by the time they reached the gates. Everything glowed bright with torches, people coming and going from beneath the main gates. Guards watched, arms crossed, eying everyone that passed.

"Them gates supposed to be thrown wide open like that?" Emmon asked.

"Must be a party," Tris added.

"You there!" A guard reached out and grabbed his arm. He wore armor like al the rest, but had a large black mustache. "What business have you?"

"Looks like a party tonight. Thought we'd join."

"Don't look dressed for a party." Mustache drawled. "Were you one of the invited guests?"

"No, we have other business, actually. We're here to speak with the king."

One of the guards beside Mustache let out a bark of laughter. "Ain't no one speaking with the king tonight."

"Then I'll speak with one of his Shields. It's imperative." He considered telling them why, but realized it would be prudent to break the news to the king's shields first before inciting any sort of panic among the general populace.

"Please, I am captain of the Lady Faith, and we've just made a voyage at the greatest haste from Oshea on Lord Bedelth's orders. It is imperative that I speak with Lord Bedelth, or any other of the shields. I'll pay you handsomely if you escort me." He pulled a gold dragon from his pocket.

Mustache's eyes widened. "Fine. I'll escort you inside—just you, not your friends. I can't promise any of the Shields will agree to talk to you. I'll take that dragon now, for my efforts." Mustache reached out and plucked the coin from Bennett's fingers.

"Thank you. Tris, Emmon, wait for me here." Mustache led him through the partygoers, carving a path forward. "What's going on here, anyway?"

"You really don't know?" the guard harrumphed.

"Been at sea."

"King's bonding ceremony."

"Tonight?" He was taken aback.

"Obviously," Mustache drawled, taking them down a corridor and into a beautiful entry hall that spilled them into a massive dining hall. He glanced around, briefly forgetting why he was here. It was staggering. Music played, couples danced, party goers gorged themselves on food.

Mustache pushed through the crowd towards the front of the room, then came to a stop and said, "Forgive me for the intrusion, but this...sailor—"

"Captain," he corrected.

"—said it was imperative he speak with one of you."

He stepped around Mustache to get a better view. Three large Drengr lounged in their chairs. He recognized the golden haired one—remembered meeting with his twin brother many months ago. "Lord Reyr," I must speak with you immediately.

Reyr's eyes narrowed. "Captain Bennett?"

"Aye."

Reyr must have read something in his face. His eyes darted to the other Shields, giving them each a brief, knowing nod, then stood. "Very well, follow me."

The guard almost looked surprised. But at last, he gave a small bow and departed. Reyr was silent, tense, as he led him and the other two through a small side door that brought them into a narrow corridor. From there he ushered Bennett into a sitting room.

"Please, have a seat. The others will be here momentarily."

Bennett glanced around the fine furniture, guessing the castle probably had many rooms like this, meant for entertaining small parties. He found a seat, then rubbed his hands on his pants. Compared to what the others wore, he felt positively unfit for their company. He should have bathed better before coming here.

The door opened and closed several more times until others filled the room. He took in their faces. "Captain Bennett," Bedelth said, striding over, reaching out a head. Bennett stood to greet him. "I didn't expect to see you back in the capital so quickly. But I can only guess whatever news you carry isn't good, to bring you back so soon."

He took the Shield's forearm, and swallowed, then nodded. Seats were taken, and silence fell, every expectant face turned tworsds him. "Who are they?" he motioned towards the women in attendance. His eyes snagged on one, whose particular beauty almost made him too nervous to speak. Her knowing eyes left him squirming, never mind her bone white hair and delicate face. But it was the markings, especially, that made him hesitate.

It couldn't be! A forest Sprite?! They were real?

"Our confidantes," Bedelth said, his eyes darting towards a woman of darker skin. She sat proud, back straight, her hands in her lap, wearing an unreadable expression.

Did any of them know Cat? Had any of them played a role in sentencing her? How would they react if they knew she was on his ship? If they knew she'd helped him get this information, and what she'd sacrificed for it?

He pushed her from his thoughts and cleared his throat. "All right. Well, there's no real way to say this delicately, milords..." He pulled at a stray thread on the cuff of his coat. They waited, the silence almost too much. "I took my ship to Oshea, just as you asked, Lord Bedelth. Did some investigating at the port. You see, you were definitely right about the whispers. When we arrived, there was already a navy mustered and ready to set sail for Dragonwall."

A breath hissed. Feminine. From one of the ladies present.

He launched into a detailed explanation, telling them exactly what they'd discovered, how many ships, the number of soldiers on those ships, and the bats they carried. He expected their shock at the revelation. Instead, they simply shared knowing looks, many of them turning towards the darker skinned lady beside Bedelth.

"None of this is new to you?" His brow furrowed.

"Some of it, but not everything," Bedelth admitted. "Our seer," he motioned towards the woman at his side, "saw a battle with bats. We simply didn't know when such a thing would occur."

"Well, I hope you're ready for it now, because the Oshean navy will be here in a matter of days." His words were met with absolute silence. "You did hear me, aye?"

Bedelth exhaled. "We should tell the king," he managed, looking at Lord Reyr.

"Over my dead body," Reyr growled. "Unless that army is battering down our gates at this very moment, I will let nothing, and I mean nothing, disturb him this night. He and Claire deserve this—this one night for themselves."

The others in the little parlor nodded, looking almost relieved.

"A single night for our king isn't going to make a difference," Lord Reyr continued. "In fact, it's better he not know yet. He'll need this night of peace before chaos breaks loose."

"There's plenty we can do in the mean time," one of the Shields said.

"We should document as many details as Captain Bennett remembers, then send him on his way." Bedelth looked at him. "You are surely tired from your journey?"

"Aye, very. I came straight here as soon as we dropped anchor. But I am happy to help where needed."

For the sake of thoroughness, they departed the parlor and led him through the castle. The sounds of revelry died down, the farther up they climbed, until he found himself led down a beautiful carpeted hallway filled with paintings of Drengr kings and queens. "The Hall of Kings," said a woman's musical voice beside him. He glanced down and tensed. How in the name of the gods had she snuck up on him? "I am Princess Taylynn."

His steps faltered. "A...a princess?"

"Why, yes. Of the Sprites."

"You really are...you...you're...?"

"A Sprite, yes." The grin she gave him set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. They had fallen back to the tail of the group. Everyone filed through a door, but she placed a hand on his arm and held him in place. In a single blink, they were alone. "A woman travels with you, yes?" His muscles tensed. Cat—she was referring to Cat. His hackles raised. "The others do not know. They have not seen it. Keep her with you. She may have a larger role to play in all of this."

His brow furrowed. "Ain't never met a Sprite. They all this cryptic?"

A surprised laugh broke the tension. "I like you, Captain Bennett. It's refreshing to find another who doesn't walk on eggshells around me."

"Oh, I can assure you, I'm crunching all over 'em."

She only grinned and said, "Come, I am sure there is much more to be discussed."

***

It was nearing dawn when Bennett's feet found relief on the deck of his ship. The Lady Faith rocked in the current, as it ebbed and flowed past her hull. It was a mercy to be away from the noise of the city, the almost irritating merriment of celebration. He usually enjoyed his time on land, but this was a little too much.

That's the argument he made to himself, anyway. He knew, deep down, what had pulled him back. Why he was here and not in one of the brothels. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd visited one. Certainly not since Cat had come aboard.

The deck was quiet, but it wasn't empty. The crew on night shift milled about, keeping to their tasks.

"You're back?"

He whirled toward the voice, only relaxing once he had cataloged Cat from head to toe. As if anything might have befallen her while on board. "No trouble while I was away?" he asked. "No one came aboard?"

She lifted a brow, staring at him. "Afraid someone might learn that I'm here? Whisk me off to a trial long overdue? Slit my pretty throat for my crimes? I would deserve it, you know. As I've told you before."

He closed the distance between them, until the tips of his boots touched hers. Looking down at her, he said with a quiet voice that surprised even him, "Do not speak like that."

She frowned. He took her chin in his fingers, tilting her face up so that he could see the pull of her lips in better light. Her eyes betrayed her, falling to his mouth, lingering for a moment. Something swelled in his chest—satisfaction.

"I was successful, by the way. Thanks for asking."

She reared back, staggering, as the spell that wrapped around them shattered. She blinked. "You...you spoke to the king?"

"No, actually. His Shields. King was tied up, matter of fact."

"Tied up?"

His lips twitched at the pun. "Yes, bonding ceremony. He was too busy bedding his mate to meet with me."

She made a choking sound. Her hand went to her neck, rubbing the skin there. Was she thinking of how close she'd come to losing her head? A sudden stab of fear, even anger, turned his flesh hot. Once more, he closed the distance between them. "No one will touch you," he growled, looking at the emotions that flowed across her face.

"I..." She scoffed. "I thought I'd marry him one day."

"I know." And then, because he couldn't stand to see this side of her, he said, "Aren't you glad you ended up with me instead?"

It was meant as a joke—to pull her out of her mood.

It had the opposite effect he'd expected.

She lifted her chin, holding his gaze. "Yes, actually. I am. For the first time in my life, I feel meaningful. Everything I do is because I want to, to serve a purpose that isn't my own. Or, maybe it is a little selfish, to want to feel useful. But it's also fulfilling, to carve my own path. To earn merit for what I do, rather than my name. To start fresh."

His eyes locked on her mouth. Gods above. He needed to leave this deck—now. He needed to get as far away from her as possible. If he didn't—

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she breathed.

The string of curses that fell from his lips made her smirk. His heart accelerated, jumping forward like a ship whose sails caught a gale. He lifted a hand, taking hold of the back of her neck, pulling her against him, then dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. A little gasp broke the silence between them. He moved slowly, chastely, simply sucking her bottom lip, then her top, between his own. Tasting them—tasting her.

Iron dropped into his belly, bottoming out. Gods, he could taste her forever and never grow tired of it. In fact, he wanted to, but thought better of it. This wasn't like his other conquests; she was part of his crew.

She was part of his crew!

Alarm bells started ringing. He pulled back slightly. "Cat..."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, as if sensing his withdrawal.

"If we do this, if it goes wrong—"

"Then we handle it like the mature adults that we are. Besides I hate you, remember? So I can hate you now, and enjoy you while I do. And if things go wrong, I'll still hate you. Nothing to lose," she managed, saying all this with her lips still grazing his. Every point of friction had heat dropping low.

"You don't hate me."

"No? Are you sure? Because I would very much like you to take me belowdecks, to that godsdamned window cabin you're always boasting about, so that I can show you just how much."

"Gods, woman, but you light me on fire."

"I certainly hope not. I'd hate to see your precious ship burn," she cooed.

"Won't be the ship that's burning," he managed, before tightening his grip and kissing her again.

He was only vaguely aware that the rest of the crew on duty had stopped moving. He could feel their eyes on him and didn't give a single damn. He felt a lot of things in this moment. Lust, namely, and relief that Cat was allowing him to touch her like this. He also felt something deeper that scared the salt out of him, something he was in no place to acknowledge—at least, not tonight. But he also felt a little pride, knowing he was the only one on this ship holding her body against him.

"So?" Cat pulled away, running her hands over his chest, looking at the way his muscles twitched beneath her touch, as if she was only noticing his build for the first time. Suddenly he wanted to rip his shirt off like a barbarian and show her exactly what he was made of—salt and storm and rugged waves.

"Let's go," he growled, already feeling the strain of his pants. Taking her hand, he ignored the expressions on his crew. Some gaped with surprise, others snickered with smug knowing—as if they'd been waiting for this to happen. He didn't care what they thought.

The only thing he cared about was getting this woman in his arms, in the quiet of his cabin, and forgetting the rest of the world while they still had the chance. He'd done what he'd set out to do—he'd warned the king of the impending attack. Now he'd take what remained of this night for himself, for Cat, and he'd do it knowing the king wasn't the only one, up in his fancy castle, enjoying the lips of a coveted woman.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐



Happy Friday, Bookdragons!

Okay, I mean, we kinda saw this happening...right? I mean, Bennett and Cat. I'm not sure if you've noticed but no one calls her Caterina still. I wanted to keep it that way, to symbolize that she's trying to become a different person. I know she did awful things and was mean and horrible. But I do hope that she makes the most of her new life.

As for the bats...yes...they are coming.

I enjoyed reading everyone's comments from the last chapter. I only commented back on a few as I'm nursing a little headache today. But I did read and love all of them. They put a huge grin on my face.

See you all next Friday!

-Mel