A thundering pang pounded in her chest as the heat from her cheeks burned brighter. Escaping from the room, she charged down the narrow passageway, the scent of salty sea guiding her outside.

She needed to calm down, she needed to breathe. But the bold taste of rose lingered on her lips, and she ran her tongue across them, desperate to return to the room and devour the vampire whole. Her wolf sprang at the idea, aligning with her libido as she scolded the beast. The woman might be her mate, but she was a liar and lacked the decency not to betray those helping her.

Reaching the exit, she halted at a huge metal door and released a heavy sigh. She flung it open swiftly, shivering as the chill wind brushed her cheeks and cooled her libido. On the spotless wooden deck, she spotted two women by the railing, chatting away the day and staring at the brilliant sunset over the horizon.

She trotted to greet them, awed by the sun’s rays expanding and coloring the normally blue sky in reddish gold. Another experience she’d gained because of the vampire.

“Been a while since we spoke, Lyra.” Larissa flicked her eyes to her companion, a short-statured woman with wild green hair tamed in a red bandana, and back to Lyra. “Who is your friend?”

The stranger greeted her with a thick accent. “You don’t remember me?” She started flapping her hands madly in the air, cawing.

A dawning realization hit her, and Larissa beamed, embracing the woman in a hug. “You’re that parrot!” She reluctantly pulled away and squeezed her shoulders warmly. “I’m glad you made it out.”

She took in the ebony woman before her, who wore a tight white shirt with a black vest. The shirt was tucked into black buckled breeches, and she sported high buckled boots to trot around in. She was athletic but short, with a round innocent face and a glint of devilish light in her dark eyes.

“Same, silver wolf, same, although I took a beating to the head… Name’s Jada.” Her plump lips spread into a playful smirk. “And Lyra told me you’re Larissa?”

Larissa nodded twice and grinned. “Glad she remembered my name at least.”

Lyra snorted, leaning her back against the railing and grinning like a dog with a bone. She wore the same attire as Jada, but unlike Jada, had her midnight hair tied in a lazy bun.

“Give me some credit at least, we spent a week together before you decided to go be a gladiator.”

Larissa scoffed loudly at the accusation, peeved. “That wasn’t by choice, I assure you.”

Her two companions shot each other a knowing look, and Lyra abruptly raised her arms as if worshiping the goddesses, blurting, “By the three, I miss the sea!” She turned on her heels to face the sparkling waves, reflecting the sun’s light over the horizon. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a sight like this.”

Larissa chimed in, “I’m surprised your alpha let you on a ship. Were you a sea-wolf?”

“A sea-wolf?” Lyra wiggled her nose, hastily turning to face her, displeased.

Jada chuckled. “Doubtful, those salty dogs are all touched by the sun. Plus,” she snagged Lyra’s wrist, pointing to her smooth palm, “not even a callous. This woman has never worked a hard day in her life.”

Flustered, Lyra whipped her hand away, pawing at it as if Jada had broken it. “Just because I moisturize doesn’t mean I don’t work.”

Larissa agreed, jesting, “That is presumptuous of you, Jada. Sylva and I did meet her with a hand in Sylva’s pocket.”

A mischievous gleam lit Jada’s eyes, and she spread her arms wide open, retorting, “You call it presumption, but I call it fate.” She turned her back, looking over the sea. “Each mark on your hand tells a tale, each scar on your body is a story.” She gestured towards the sea. “Just like every hole in the earth and every mountain carved by the sea we tread, it all equates to the hardships and the memories we live and leave.”

She waved for the wolves to follow, striding towards the fore of the ship. The wolves stumbled on her trail, still unused to the rocking that affected their balance. Jada halted, staring forward. “They say in the womb our fate is divined. That the moment you are born, the all-mother witch carves your path with flame in stone.” She faced them and snagged Larissa’s left palm.

She trailed a nimble finger along the lines of her palm, eliciting a giggle. “Stop that!” Larissa protested, giggles in her voice.

Jada shot her a grin that instantly turned grim. “Dear, what troubles you face, I don’t envy.” She let go of her hand and sighed. “Tell me, Larissa, what is the most precious thing that we can offer others and the world? The one thing all creatures crave, even if it is unattainable.”

“Friendship?” she timidly answered.

“It’s love,” Jada flatly corrected. “The feeling of companionship, the feeling of worth, the feeling of fitting into the cosmic puzzle we call life. And what better way to feel that belonging?”

She gestured for Lyra to speak, and she reluctantly sighed. “Love.”

“Love.” Her dark eyes sparkled with sadness as she continued. “But sometimes, in our desperate need to fill that void, we harm others in the process.” She chuckled bitterly. “They say if you can’t love, fill yourself up with hate.” She shook her head disappointedly. “But that is just a twisted, tainted version of love, and it will barely fill you, only leaving you starving for more.”

Jada sucked in a long, deep sigh, exhaling. “In order to love, you need a heart, and the only creatures without one…” She pointed to Larissa to answer.

Larissa furrowed her brow, recalling her regretful time in the Count’s office, how she desperately pleaded for Raven not to trade her. How she laid on her chest, hearing not a drum of a heartbeat until the very end of her pleas.

“A vampire,” Larissa finally confessed.

“A vampire,” Jada repeated, continuing. “The witch goddesses’ most beautiful, spiteful creature she has ever created.” She crossed her arms behind her back, pity striking in her eyes as they roamed Larissa up and down. “Dear, a wolf fated to a vampire is a wolf destined to die. Reaching for something so precious and dear only to fall and drown in their beauty and hate.”

A breath hitched in Larissa’s chest. She had never heard of such rumors or telling’s before, and her grandmother was the omega of the pack, the spiritual leader who guides and soothes all wolfen members.

Larissa blurted, “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re just a parrot!” She shuffled her feet anxiously, recalling Raven’s fiery eyes, and growled, “Besides, my mate is a shifter, half or…”

“Your mate?” Lyra chimed in and barked a laugh. “You mean the vampire who left you to rot in a cage to hitch a ride without us?” Lyra shook her head. “Sure, Larissa.”

“What do you know about anything?!” Larissa shot back. “All you’ve been doing is drooling over Sylva and being jealous of anything that moves!”

Fuming, Lyra bared her fangs in Larissa’s face, spitting, “At least I’m not fawning over a traitor!”

“That was just part of her plan!” Larissa winced; doubt infected her every word.

“Sure, and I’m the fang fairy.” Lyra took a step back, snarking, “I think she wants us to believe she didn’t betray you because she got caught.” She huffed, sharply turning her head away from Larissa. “Who in grace would assume such a stupid plan would work? Too many—”

Larissa’s vision flashed red, and before she knew it, her fist bashed Lyra in the face.

Lyra stumbled back, catching her footing, and stared at Larissa in bewilderment as she rubbed her sore cheek. Larissa looked at her clenched fist, then took one step backward, and another, until she collided with a solid object.

“Larissa? What’s wrong?” Sylva, the solid object, addressed her, glancing worriedly down at Lyra. “Lyra? You okay?”

“Yes,” she spat blood, glaring daggers at Larissa as she stood. “I’m grand.”

“You don—” Larissa pushed past Sylva, snarling, her eyes wide and lips curled. She stomped across the deck, passing behind the navigational wheel being driven by a bald, dark woman in a tailored coat.

She couldn’t believe what she had done! Punching Lyra for the doubt she already held in her heart! Her wolf howled in triumph, claiming victory for defending her mate, and praised her with a song.

Larissa snorted, biting her thumb and growling back at her wolf, cutting the song short. “She has no honor, fool! There’s nothing to defend!”

“Trouble in paradise?” The bald woman’s husky voice cut through her internal battle like a knife, and Larissa froze, skeptically turning her snarls the tall woman’s way.

She mumbled, biting her thumb. “It seems I am losing my mind.”

The woman remarked, her eyes never leaving the sea. “Most do, out on the sea.”

“Then what did they do to quell it?” Larissa fired back, throwing her arms madly in the air. “What did they do to quell the fire in their loins, and the wolf that fails to see sense?”

The bald woman glimpsed at her, her dark eyes like stone, and returned her gaze to the sea. “They didn’t.”

A howl of fury escaped Larissa’s lips as she took a furious step forward. Her claws jutted out, and her fangs protruded. The woman remained unmoved, passive like a stone, and kept her gaze on the sea. “There is a saying amongst us sailors, lass. That sometimes it is better for the waves to sweep you up and take you adrift, than fight it and stay on the shore.”

A high-pitched whine escaped her throat, and she whimpered. “But what if the wave is an idiot, and lacking common sense?”

“When it comes to you wolves?” The bald woman pointed out in jest. “You never had sense to begin with.”

Larissa paused, her fangs retracting and her claws sheathing. She howled a snicker and stepped beside the woman, staring calmly at the sea. “What is your name?” Larissa kindly asked.

“Ann Marie, but you can call me Ann.”

Larissa beamed, sniffing the soothing scent of salt and sea from the woman. “Thank you, Ann. I really needed it.”

Before Ann could speak, Sylva charged towards them with bated breath.

“Larissa, Lyra told me you punched her.” Sylva took a cautious step forward, nostrils flaring twice. “You smell calm… She told me your wolf went berserk…?”

Larissa let out a defeated sigh, sagging her shoulders and tilting her neck towards Sylva. “I did,” she flatly admitted, lips thinning into a flat line at Sylva’s flash of rage. “Do what you must…”

Larissa sullenly closed her eyes, awaiting Sylva to rip her throat out. Sylva had never rushed so quickly to aid her when she fell to an injury, confirming Larissa’s suspicions that Lyra must be Sylva’s fated mate, or at least painting them in a lighter color.

Seconds flew by, and languidly Sylva scraped her throat. Bits of warm blood seeped from her olive skin, and suddenly the fangs eased away. Larissa relaxed and opened her eyes. “Thank you…” she faintly admitted, lifting her gaze to meet kind silver blues. “For your mercy, alpha.”

Sylva nodded weakly, her eyes drifting to the floor. She mumbled, flustered, “You are my best friend.”

The way it rang from Sylva’s throat sounded like a reminder to herself, and Larissa carefully stepped back. She didn’t desire to provoke Sylva’s wolf further and shrunk her posture to appear smaller.

A gnawing feeling of puzzlement grew in her heart as she whiffed the odor of dominance oozing from Sylva. She steeled herself for an abrupt attack, surprised to find her instincts refused her sense to flee.

A sudden pang drumming from her neck interrupted her thoughts, and she grazed her nimble fingers deftly across the scars left by Raven. She grimaced, realizing now it was a fresh wound.

Sylva prowled a step forward, but a burst of mist formed between them, halting her, and forming the hourglass shape of Raven. Immediately, Raven sprang to capture Larissa’s hand, gushing in earnest, “Dear, come with me! There is someth—!” She paused, lazily turning to face Sylva, whose fists remained clenched and knuckles white. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Sylva harshly stated, and charged down towards the main deck.

“Sylva!” Larissa reached a desperate hand, but immediately pulled it to her chest when the wolf ignored her. Larissa huffed a heavy sigh, eyelids growing heavy. “I am sorry,” she mumbled faintly.

“Ah?” Raven’s head turned from the fleeting form of Sylva, then back to Larissa. “Do you mean her? Want me to—”

“Raven.” The captain muted Raven and continued, “I think you should leave her alone.”

Ann briefly glimpsed at Raven, then to the vein bulging on Larissa’s bundled fist, reiterating, “And let the wolves settle.”

Stunned, Raven listlessly let go of Larissa’s hand and dispersed into mist. Larissa released her fist, mumbling, “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve controlled myself any longer.”

A long pause ensued, with Larissa darting towards the railing to glare at the sunset, and Ann steered the ship.

Suddenly, Ann spoke. “You noticed her beauty.” It was a statement, not a question, and Larissa mumbled a yes. “And the more beautiful the vampire is—”

“The more powerful and old,” Larissa flatly finished.

“In a mere blink, she can sink this ship and slit our throats,” Ann admitted out of the blue, startling Larissa with her gruesome image of Raven. “Yet she doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the type,” Larissa remarked, puzzled. “If anything, she seems more inclined to make jesters of us.” She brushed the fresh marks Raven unknowingly left. “And drain me dry when I sleep.”

“Then she fooled you well.” Lament infused Ann’s voice as she recounted, “When I was young, I used to sail the seas boldly, pirating any vessel that crossed my path and looting the booty of any treasure buried on shore.” Larissa’s puzzlement grew, and she listened closely. “Then I came across her vessel, eliminating her crew with swiftness and ease until I reached her cabin.” A shudder emanated from the captain. “She wore a corseted dress, elegant and sweeping the floor. It revealed her milky shoulders, and her blood-red hair was bundled in an elaborate bun befitting a noble.”

The captain’s face wrinkled with disdain at her description. “Half her face was hidden by the red, black fan she held. And her eyes shined with a fiery glint that set my heart ablaze.” Her grip on the steering wheel loosened, but she instantly clenched it harshly. “I was charmed, and so instead of letting my rapier greet her, I bowed my head instead, and the rest of my crew fell by her fangs.”

For the first time in their meeting, Ann let out a bitter laugh, curling her lip and clenching the steering wheel in rage. “I should’ve let my rapier meet her neck!”

A gasp escaped Larissa as she stepped closer to the captain. Ann cast her a grim look, anger morphing to sadness. “But instead, she took mine and bit into it.” Her shoulders sagged; her grip lightened. “Ever since that day, I’ve been nothing but her thrall. No longer does the sea beckon me, no longer do I fill my coffers with gold. Pleasures that sated me in my past life felt dry and left me thirsting for only one thing.”