This sea-ogre is the trouble I know, so I’m going to stick this out.

I almost expect him to continue to stare at me in stony silence, as if there’s some secret to making him respond that I’m unaware of. But he finally speaks. “Two-finger tease, eh?”

So he’s thinking about that, is he? “Indeed. Popular with all the sea-ogres back home.”

“Sounds like you’re more experienced than I am. Very well.” With his gaze locked on me, he unbuckles his belt and unwraps his loincloth, dropping it to the ground.

Not one but two cocks unfurl from the depths of his loincloth.

Two.

Two very large, very un-hard cocks.

“Oh.” For once, quick and easy words escape me. I stare, my jaw hanging open. I’d expected him to be large. I hadn’t expected two. And of course it seems reasonable that he might have two, what with the fact that he has two sets of arms. All right. I can handle this. I can.

Before I can say anything else, though, he snorts at my stunned expression and stalks away.

I’ve been completely caught in a lie.

Here the sea-ogre took me for a bride because I promised all kinds of naughty pleasures, and he’s realizing now that I have zero experience with his kind. My shock at his doubled anatomy made that plainly obvious.

I’m an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t be called out, and now I have to fix this. He’s storming away from me, and I need to do something.

“Fine!” I call out, chasing after him. “You caught me. I lied about the two-finger thing. I just had to get off the ship and your appearance seemed like a good opportunity. I’m sorry if I’m not as skilled as you expected me to be. That ship was going to end up at the bottom of the sea. If it ever made it to the city of Sunswallow, I’d end up sold off to a brothel. I figured one master would be better than a hundred.”

He remains silent, so I race in front of him and drop to my knees, clinging dramatically to his leg. “I’m ready for my punishment, my husband.”

That gets his attention. He stops walking. “Punishment?”

I nod, pressing my cheek to his warm, damp leg. I don’t have to feign panic. I’m desperate—I need him to like me. “You can whip me. I’m told I heal fast.”

“Because you’ve been whipped before?” he asks, voice icy.

I nod again. I’m not the most obedient of creatures. I tend to run my mouth—some would call it lying—to try and grease the works. Sometimes I get caught.

The sea-ogre huffs, the sound one of irritation. He pries me off of his leg and continues to stalk away. As I sit on the ground, trembling in fear, he moves to the edge of the turtle and dives into the water.

Gone again.

Chapter

Five

RANAN

Well, that went well.

I swam for hours, thinking about what I’d say to the woman when I got back. How it had been a mistake and I’d drop her at the nearest port as soon as I could. How she doesn’t have to remain here as my bride. That I truly don’t want company. I’m not the sort that’s good at conversation, or keeping people entertained. I’m best alone.

But the moment I saw her digging around in my sacks, I forgot everything I planned. And from there, it just got worse. She kept talking and talking, and before I knew what I was doing I was lowering my loincloth just to catch her in a lie. To prove that I knew that she was full of stories, and that she didn’t need to pretend around me.

Instead, my actions just made her frantic. She clung to my leg and begged me to whip her.

Whip her.

It’s absurd. Why would I strike her just because I’m annoyed? If anything, I’m annoyed at myself. It’s my fault we’re both in this situation, all because I couldn’t say to the human captain, actually, no, give me your gold instead of a woman.

So I swim again, because at least if I’m swimming, I don’t have to look into her pleading gaze, her hungry, desperate-to-please eyes. I don’t want to hear more about the terrible fate that was awaiting her and why she thought being with me would be better for her than staying on the boat. Of course she spoke up and volunteered to be with me. I might be hideous and have too many limbs, but like she said, one master is better than a hundred.

I feel like a churl for scaring her. I feel like a churl for keeping her.

Tomorrow I should call to Akara, touch minds with her, let her know that I want to head to shore. We can get close to a human city with a morning’s easy travel.

We’ll set the woman on the beach there and forget we ever laid eyes upon her. Let her be the problem of the land dwellers.

Decided, I haul myself up on the turtle’s back once more and shake the excess water free from my skin. The red moon is high and there’s a distinct chill in the air that isn’t felt under the warm waves. I contemplate going back under the water and drifting in sleep. I can sleep as the whales do, automatically coming up for a breath when my lungs are emptied. But curiosity makes me approach my tent, because she will no doubt be there adorning herself in the many necklaces and gold jewels I’ve taken from others that have passed through my domain. I want to see her reaction when I wake her up and kick her out of my tent. I want to prod her and remind her that she’s not safe with me, because I didn’t want her in the first place.

I don’t even make it to my tent. Underneath Akara’s back spike, huddled around herself, is the small, shivering form of the human female. She’s not in my tent. She’s not wearing my stolen jewels. She’s a small, pathetic lump out in the open, with no blanket, and her teeth are chattering loud enough to raise the dead.

I stop in my tracks and stare at her. I don’t know what I feel, looking at her so pathetic. Is she doing this to earn pity from me? Or because she is truly afraid of me? Does she truly think I’m that much of a monster?

It doesn’t matter that I was planning to kick her out into the night a mere moment ago. A mere moment ago, she was draped in jewels in my mind’s eye, reveling in my riches. This is just…pitiful. A doomed soul should be sent to Vor’s arms with a quick slice to the throat, not forced to endure a long, painful death by freezing. I might not like the female, but I am not cruel.

Kneeling at her side, I jostle her shoulder rudely.

She comes awake with a start but makes no sound. Her eyes blink large into the darkness and then focus on me. “Husband⁠—”

“No,” I growl. I don’t want to hear that. Not from her. Not right now. I point at my tent, indicating she should go inside.

The female opens her mouth to speak and her stomach growls so loudly it comes up her throat. Horrified, she claps a hand over her mouth. “Well, that was a wretched sound. Apologies…master? Can I call you master?”

I get to my feet and glare down at her. Did she not see me pointing at the tent? Are we truly going to talk about names right now? I just want to sleep.

“I’m Vali,” she tells me again, tapping her chest. “I don’t expect you to remember it, so I’m happy to help out until you do. Let me serve you, master. It’d bring me great joy. Can I⁠—”

She breaks off as I stab a finger at my tent, indicating she should go into the shelter and out of the cold wind.

“Yes. Your tent. Of course. Time to earn my due. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that.”

Vali hops to her feet and heads for the tent. Finally. By the gods, it’s like trying to steer Akara when the stubborn hamarii is in a wandering mood. Relieved that we’re finally getting somewhere, I put a hand on her back and guide her into my tent.

It’s a mess, I realize, as we step inside. The red moon is bright, casting enough light to see by near the entrance. I have no bed in here because when Akara and I are on the seas, I sleep in the cradle of the waves. It’s only when I’m in my grotto that I use a bed with blankets and padding. I use my tent for nothing but storage, keeping bags tied and primed for a submersion. A few of them have spilled open because I chased her out earlier, but nothing in here looks comfortable or warm enough for a human woman who’s shivering with cold.