Sea Cursed: An Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 13 (The Othala Witch Collection) by Amy Lee Burgess & Fallen Sorcery & Othala

Author:Amy Lee Burgess & Fallen Sorcery & Othala [Burgess, Amy Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: dystopian, romance, witches, magic, paranormal
Publisher: Amy Lee Burgess
Published: 2016-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The boat dipped and rocked, breaking apart my hazy sleep. I lifted up on one elbow, disoriented. After I’d read the spell and understood very little of it since my grasp on the mechanics of magic was weak at best, I’d sunk into apathy. Rather than seek out Logan and share the misery, I’d retreated to the cabin and the spacious – for a boat – bed. The mattress took up most of the cabin, but it had built-in drawers for storage, and on the right-hand side I’d discovered an entire wardrobe in my size. I’d be terribly out of luck if I ever put on a lot of weight. That thought had depressed me, and I’d crawled onto the bed, clutched a pillow to my chest and closed my eyes against the futility.

A glance out the porthole showed me it was twilight. The sky had changed from cerulean blue to deep lavender. Waves lapped against the hull, and the sound both comforted and scared me. Was it time to begin the sex magic ritual? All traces of sleep and lethargy melted away. Excitement tinged with alarm tasted metallic in my mouth. I’d allowed fear to overwhelm me earlier, but the night erased all that. Things appeared possible now. Especially since I had Logan. I wasn’t alone in this.

During sleep my braid had come partway undone, so I combed my fingers through my hair undoing the braid all the way. Brushing dark strands out of my eyes, I opened the cabin door and peered out. No sign of Logan in the galley/sitting room. He’d done the dishes.

Heart beating uncomfortably hard, I climbed up the ladder into the deserted wheelhouse. Eerily, the wheel moved by itself, presumably making minute course corrections influenced by Logan’s magic. Staring at it too long made me jumpy, so I opened the wheelhouse door and walked on deck.

The bow had been transformed – both by the dusk and by Logan. Solar-powered fairy lights entwined around the mast glowed. More fairy lights twirled around the deck rails. The bench in the center back of the bow had pulled out into a queen-sized bed, which Logan had made up with white sheets printed with purple stars. A matching comforter was folded over the bottom half. A small table with sunken circles to hold dishes and cups held a wine bottle and two wine glasses. Battery-powered tea lights gleamed from inside purple and white votive holders.

Logan, still shirtless, wore the Before Times souvenir coin talisman around his neck. I stopped dead by the mast, reaching out one hand to steady myself against the roll of the waves, which was more pronounced topside. Tingling anticipation spiced with trepidation sizzled down my spine and zapped my cheeks with warmth.

In the deepening dusk, Logan looked otherworldly and so beautiful my skin seemed somehow too tight to contain my soul, which fought to fly free from the bonds of physical boundaries. What strange mysteries would I be initiated into tonight?

He stared at me as if I were a piece of precious artwork.

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