Heir of the Gods

Ch. 56: The Taste of Fear

Cassia froze, trying desperately to gain her bearings and clear her mind. Scattered on the floor around her were nautical instruments, books and what appeared to be rough-cut diamonds. She blinked hard to clear the spots from her vision and catalogued the newest insults.

A bruise now throbbed at the top of her thigh where she'd hit the corner of the desk. Her hands stung and her right wrist ached from attempting to catch herself as she fell.

But nothing hurt more than her pride.

Gritting her teeth, Cassia grabbed the edge of the desk and hauled herself back to her feet. As soon as she got there, something battered into the back of her right knee. She collapsed to the floor again, swearing as one of the diamonds drove into the flesh just beneath her kneecap. 

Pain lanced straight out from that point, lines of fire trailing clear down to her toes and up to her hips. She swore again as she sat back, cradling the knee, utilizing several of the more colorful explicatives she'd learned at The Raven's Well.

"How unfortunate," a heavily-accented voice said in Metian. "There go my hopes you were some fine-born lady worth a fortune."

Cassia darted her gaze around the room, taking in a shelf crammed with leather-bound books and curiosities, another table papered in maps before them, and a wall dedicated to a display of weaponry. Golden light from a glorious sunset slanted through three portholes that were to her left, telling her they were sailing north.

"Brunia," she whispered. Her insides coiled with dread even as she blew out a breath of relief at finally knowing where they were heading.

"Get up," that harsh voice demanded. 

Cassia raked her damp hair back from her face, staying where she was for a moment as her mind raced. A sigh heaved her chest and she tipped her head back to find the pirate captain towering over her, face dark as a thundercloud. This situation had soured long before she'd arrived, and nothing she did would sweeten it.

She couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at her mouth. "Fine-born ladies are worth a fortune in your slave markets?" she asked, her voice light. "How ridiculous. They aren't worth much in Metus. Aren't known for being very good workers."

His response was to tangle his fingers in her hair and jerk her to her feet. Bright pain tore through her scalp and she latched onto his hand, biting down on the cry working its way up her throat. When her feet hit the floorboards, he released her. Cassia stumbled a few steps away, eyes watering as she carefully touched her head, sure her scalp had come loose.

Those weapons on the far wall drew her attention.

"I wish you would," the captain said as he followed her gaze. 

Cassia swallowed, ignoring the violence thrumming through her head. She tucked her hair behind her ears, tilting her chin up as she turned back to face the pirate captain. For a long moment they both stood, each sizing the other up. 

As she had the first time she'd laid eyes on him, Cassia got a sense of strength. Of power. And rage. A deep-seated, relentless rage that would burn her if she fanned the flames too carelessly.

She wondered what it was he saw.

Whatever it was, it was obviously something hateful if the dark scowl marring his face was any indication as he stalked around the desk to sink into a chair. Resting his elbows on the shiny surface, he laced his fingers together and continued to stare at her. His icy blue eyes bored into hers. Cassia schooled her features to cool indifference, standing straight and ignoring the new throb of pain beneath her kneecap and at her thigh.