Mercy sat up in bed, gasping for air. Why could these little dreamscapes never be predictable? She took a minute to appreciate that she wasn’t surrounded by tons of icy cold water or standing on a dark and windy beach. She went to thread her hands into her hair, only then remembering it wasn’t loose, but braided.
Her eyes had adjusted to the dark. A faint glow took the edge off the total darkness of before, and she realized ambient lights along the edges of the floor provided a faint luminescence. Not enough to irritate, but just a hint, so she could make out shapes in the room.
She turned and saw Sebastian still asleep beside her. Well. That plan hadn’t worked out. She lay back down, facing him, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
He was so different from Reaper. Deceptively quiet, he had a habit of listening to others. When you spoke with him, you felt like every word was important, and he couldn't wait to hear what you had to say next. His whole attention was focused on you.
People mistook that quietness. Other pirates had mistaken it for weakness in the past. To their peril. Sebastian was anything but weak. He watched. He listened. He knew everything that went on around him, and on Nemesis, that meant he knew everything that went on aboard the ship.
He knew, for example, the night a rival had planned to have him suffer an accident with an airlock. Sebastian had been seventeen. His rival, Ferris, was a man of thirty, the man who had served as Captain of Nemesis since Lilith stole her and made her the pirate flagship. But he saw the way Lilith favored Sebastian, and he knew the boy's Talent. He thought he saw an end to his own position of power, and so he plotted to remove the boy.
But Sebastian saw him coming. He also knew that if he didn't let things play out, he would be blamed for what happened.
So he allowed himself to be injected with a drug and kidnapped from his room in the middle of the night. He allowed them to shove him into an airlock. In those days, no one had understood just how close a bond with Nemesis Sebastian shared. Ferris expected the drug to keep Sebastian too muddled to be able to use his Talent.
He was wrong. Sebastian took a calculated risk, and he won.
In the end, Ferris was found unconscious, all of the air removed from the corridor, and Sebastian sat safe in the airlock until someone came and took Ferris into custody. The security recording, which Ferris thought he’d disabled, had also mysteriously recorded much of the incident.
When Lilith saw the security recording, she ordered Ferris spaced, and Sebastian became the youngest Captain in the pirate fleet.
You underestimated him at your own peril.
But while he could be ruthless, Mercy knew it wasn't his preferred way of being. If she had to choose one word to describe Sebastian, it would be compassionate. He always had a kind word, and possessed a soft spot for children. He was not-so-secretly known aboard ship as the person to go to as a teen or a child if you had any sort of problem. Sebastian would take the time to listen, and help them work out how to solve it for themselves. If the problem was so big they couldn't solve it without help, he gave them what they needed to get it done.
It was one of the things Mercy admired most about him.
No, it was one of the things she loved most about him. She'd been dancing around it for months, just like she was dancing around ruling the pirates. Her mother — or whoever she was — was right. It was time to wake up, and to start making the hard decisions.
She was a Queen. It was time she started acting like it.
She leaned over Sebastian. His lashes were long and dark against his skin, his face peaceful. "I'm sure wherever you are, it's more pleasant than this planet. But I need you to wake up now." He didn't stir. His breathing stayed even. She leaned down and put her lips beside his ear. "Sebastian, I order you to wake up."
Closing her eyes, she connected her mind to his. Keeping the link light and gentle, she whispered the words again. Sebastian, wake up. I need you.
She strained, listening hard for any kind of response from his mind. She thought she felt something, a faint brush of thought.
She pushed harder, pulling on their connection, feeling his Talent, making it her own. She melded their minds together as they had once done to control Nemesis in battle. He still felt too distant. Sebastian, wake up.
Mercy.
That's right. Come back to me. We're safe now.
Slowly, like coming out of a deep fog, she felt him grow closer. More aware. First she felt his thoughts. Then his breathing changed. She felt it, his breath warm against her skin. She opened her eyes to find he had turned his head. His eyes were open, and he was looking at her, their faces inches apart.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey," he said back. His voice sounded hoarse. Had he screamed while they tortured him? No, don't think about that.
"Welcome back."
"Glad to be back." He blinked, looking around the room. "Mercy?"
"Yes?"
"Are we in bed together?"
Her face burned, and she was glad of the darkness to cover her blush.
"It, ah, made sense at the time. You've been in a coma."
"Have I?"
“Let me catch you up." Since their minds were still connected, it was easy to show him everything that had happened. Easier than explaining would have been. She took her time, showing him each step of the journey since he'd been taken. She could have edited things out, but she didn't. The time for keeping secrets was past. Her consorts needed to trust and be trusted implicitly. They needed to be a team.
She finished with the vision she'd just had. Or dream. Whatever it had been.
"Are you all right?" he asked. He moved, putting his arm around her and bringing her close. He only winced in pain a little. "It must have been hard, seeing your Mom again."
All of that, and the first thing he focused on what how she was feeling about seeing her mother.
"You've been tortured," she said. "I think I can handle a little dream about my Mom." She snuggled against him, careful of his wounds.
"Is that what you think it was? A dream?"
There was no judgement in his tone. Just an honest question.
So she took her time and thought about it, so she could give him an honest answer.
"No," she said finally. "I don't think it was. Call it what you want - my Mom, my subconscious, some cosmic power playing with me. Whatever it was, it's not wrong. It's time for me to quit fucking around and start taking control of my life. Start making the kind of decisions that are going to get me stronger, and do something with what I am."
She felt his gaze on her. "Where do you want to start?"
Smiling, she ran her fingers up his side. She stopped when he inhaled sharply, but continued when she recognized it as a surprised reaction, and not one of pain. "I thought I might start with you. And officially choosing you as my second consort." She looked down, afraid to see his face. "If you're all right with that."
He captured her hand, holding it tight. "I would be honored," he said seriously. “And I would love nothing better."
Then he pulled her close and kissed her, his lips soft against hers. It took her a second to catch up. She’d honestly been expecting more conversation around this. Or maybe she’d just been afraid Sebastian would say no.
This kiss stayed soft and gentle. But Mercy felt the tug of something more behind it, the stir of warmth in her gut, the feeling of quiet intensity in him. She broke it off. “Are you waiting for me to change my mind?”
His hand stroked her shoulder, and she suddenly felt like she was wearing way too many clothes.
“You’ve had an intensely emotional day. Reaper is missing, Cannon is—in stasis.” He stumbled only slightly over the words, no more willing to use the word dying than she was. “Declan is dead, and everyone we brought with us on this mission is currently in mortal danger, except us.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s just say I understand if you’re looking for comfort, and I won’t hold you to the second consort thing, unless you still want me to tomorrow.”
She wanted to smack him, but didn’t dare. “I’m not going to change my mind,” she said.
“I certainly hope not,” he agreed. “But I’m also not going to be the asshole who takes advantage of you. I want you to be serious. I’ve been serious about you since before we even started this dance. But I care about you enough to give you the space to commit to your decision, or not.” He smiled. “And to enjoy what happens in the meantime.”
She sorted through everything he’d just said. Some part of her wanted to be angry, to take his words as a rejection. But she couldn’t. Besides, hadn’t she just made a commitment to herself to start making decisions about what she wanted and sticking with them?
“I have an idea,” she said. She traced a finger down his chest, stopping when she reached a welt. “It might be a little painful, but I think we should take a shower. You’ve been dragged through the dirt with open wounds, rolled around in decades’ worth of dust, and I think getting clean would be a good idea, especially considering our current lack of medical supplies. I know the water will sting, but it’s far better than an infection.”
“We?”
She grinned. “Well, I think you’re going to need help getting all of these little wounds clean.”
“I think you might be right.”
“And if you’re patient through the whole thing, you could even get a prize at the end.”
“Is the prize you?”
She leaned in and kissed him again, instead of answering, and this time the kiss lingered, stirring things that made Mercy impatient and want to forget all about the shower.
She made herself get up, breaking contact so she could stand and start stripping off her clothes.
Sebastian lay back, watching her. “Oh, good. I was starting to feel underdressed as the only one not wearing anything.”
Mercy kicked off her boots, laughing, and then went to unseal her chestplate. She stopped, stricken.
“What is it?” Sebastian sat up, alarmed at her expression.
“I forgot. Reaper keyed my chestplate to him, so I couldn’t take it off.” Disappointment crashed through her.
“Did he? Well, let’s take a look.”
“I already tried, I can’t unseal it.”
“Let me have a go.” He reached out and snagged the bottom of the chestplate where it curved over her hip, tugging her closer. “These chestplates have a bit on nanotech in them. I might be able to—ah yes. There we go.” He wore a smug expression as the seal parted.
Mercy frowned at him. “That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. But we are pirates. Fair isn’t really in our nature.”
Hmm. She eyed him as she continued pulling off clothing. She’d always seen Sebastian as the most trustworthy one. Now she got the feeling she’d have to keep a sharp eye on him along with Reaper. The two of them would gang up on her if she wasn’t careful.
“What’s that suspicious look for?”
“Nothing.” Shimming out of her underwear, she tossed them aside and took his hand in hers. “Come on. Let’s hope this place has actual hot water.”
It did. The shower was a tight fit with the two of them, but they didn’t mind. At any other time, Mercy would have been distracted by the hard planes of his chest, the cut of muscle along his torso and arms, tapering to his waist. Watching the way the water beaded on his skin would have made her mouth water. It still did, a little.
But she couldn’t ignore his hiss of pain as the water hit his wounds, or the angry, red look many of the cuts and welts already had. She cleaned each one carefully, noting when one of them looked like someone had enjoyed digging the knife in.
“Who did this to you?” she asked.
“A Killer,” he said softly. “Her name is Akyra. She’s unlike any of her kind I’ve ever met before.”
“In what way?”
“Young. Cold, but also volatile. She enjoys what she does. She really enjoyed this.” He gestured to his body, and Mercy’s mouth tightened.
They didn’t speak again as she finished washing him. He didn’t flinch, not even when she knew it had to be painful. She could feel it thrum across their connection, though.
Somehow, the times she and Sebastian had shared his Talent had also strengthened the connection she had with him, until it was stronger than the other bonds she felt to those she’d claimed. By the time she finished, the water had begun to cool. Sebastian pressed a hand to the pressure plate that turned it off, and then he pressed another, and warm air began to blow on them. Mercy grabbed a towel for her hair, and handed him one as well to help speed things along.
“Some of those look like they’re already getting infected,” she said. “Let’s hope as painful as it was, the cleaning helped. And let’s hope we get the hell out of here soon, and we can get you to a med kit.”
“I’ll be fine, Mercy. I’ve been hurt worse than this many times. She only wanted you to think I was dying.”
Mercy didn’t say anything in response. Akyra had done a damn good job, and that was something Mercy intended to pay her back for in the future.
It was nice feeling clean again. The capsulet Ghost had given her was starting to wear off, and her knee ached. Nothing she could do about that, unfortunately.
She was drying her hair, squeezing the length of it with her towel, when she became aware of just how close she and Sebastian were standing. And that she had a view of all of his assets.
He was clearly feeling well enough to be anticipating getting back into bed with her.
She let her towel fall to the shower floor. Her skin was dry now, and the warm rush of air felt comforting and pleasant. Mercy was feeling warmth of a different kind as she stepped even closer to Sebastian.
“I think it’s time for part two of my action plan,” she said, her voice husky.
“Is it?”
She leaned in close, pleased that he was only slightly taller than her. “Take me to bed, Sebastian.”
His dark eyes lit with a familiar fire. “If my Queen insists.”
“I do.”
She swayed closer, expecting him to kiss her. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the bathing room and back to the bed.
“Sebastian, what are you doing? You’ll start bleeding again.”
He set her on the bed, his hair sliding forward to fall across her arm as he propped himself above her. It was already dry, the silky strands making her shiver as they slid across her body.
He leaned in until his lips were next to her ear, his breath warm on her neck. “Worth it,” he said, and put his lips where his breath had been.
His hands bracketed her as he placed open mouthed kisses along her throat, trailing them across her collar bone. When she would have turned toward him, he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back into the bed.
He turned his head, smiling the sort of confident smile that had her heart pounding. “Patience,” he said. “I’ve thought about this a lot. I’m going to take my time.”
He trailed kisses down her body. His hand stroked her arm, her ribs, his fingers trailing along places she didn’t even know were tense until she found herself relaxing under his touch. She felt loved and cherished, melting beneath his hands, warmth moving languidly through her in the wake of his lips. When he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, she nearly came up off the bed. There’d been no lead up, just one minute relaxing, worshipping hands, and the next hot pleasure spearing through her gut.
He made a pleased noise, clearly happy with her reaction. His hands still moved over her body, but there was more urgency now. No longer targeting knots and tension to relax, now they sought to stimulate and bring pleasure.
Every time she tried to turn the tables on him, Sebastian stopped her. With a touch. With a kiss. With the stroke of his thumb over her clit. Finally, she stopped fighting it.
The first time she orgasmed, it was with his mouth on her clit. The second, with his fingers inside her. She tried to urge him faster, to get him to do what she wanted and was ready for. He continued to wring pleasure from her with a methodical devotion that seemed designed to drive her mad.
Finally, her patience snapped.
She reached down the connection she shared with him, and let what she was feeling flow down the link. The pleasure that wasn’t quite enough. The need for more. He groaned and shuddered, his breathing uneven and harsh.
She arched against him, the movement deliberately provocative.
Just in case he wasn’t getting the message, she nipped his shoulder with her teeth. “Fuck me, damn you.”
He chuckled. “We’ll have to work on your patience.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but patience is your virtue, not mine.”
“You’ll learn.” Somehow, he made those two words sound like a carnal promise.
Mercy felt a frisson of something that might have been anticipation. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he finally gave her what she wanted, sheathing himself inside her in one smooth motion. She gave a strangled gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. She froze, immediately letting him go.
“It’s fine, Mercy,” he said softly. “You didn’t hurt me.” To prove it, he started moving inside her.
She moaned, her thoughts scattering. It built between them quickly. Sebastian, who had shown such restraint until now, finally lost control. His breathing grew ragged. He made small noises of pleasure with each thrust, and Mercy, still connected to him through the link, felt her own pleasure echo his. She bit her lip as the pace increased, becoming frantic. The pleasure built, and built, and built. When it crested, she bit her lip, her body shuddering in his arms. Just as her own wave receded, Sebastian’s crested, and the pleasure lapped through her all over again.
She’d lost count of her orgasms. She couldn’t remember how many this was, only that the last was the most intense of them. The pleasure went on and on, and when it finally began to fade, they lay entwined together, breathing hard. Sweat slicked their skin, and their hair lay in a tangle around them.
After a moment, Mercy laughed.
“What?” he asked, opening one eye. He didn’t seem any more inclined to move than she was, and for just a moment she felt a spear of pleasure that he hadn’t taken her chuckle personally.
“Nothing. It’s just, well.” She grinned ruefully. “Now we need another shower.”