It’s bigger than I expected, and I pause to take in the space again. I’m no architect but I’m certain the walls go well past where the end of the ship should be. Is this a pocket realm? But then how is it looking out at the water we’ve just sailed through?
My attention goes to the desk. It’s not made of any wood I recognize and the surface shimmers a little. Magic? I try to take a step forward but I’m still bound with the captain’s power.
I glare at him. Gods, but he’s even more attractive now than he was when I first opened my eyes. Dark hair that’s just long enough to be termed roguish. A nice square jaw that probably shatters the fists of anyone who tries to punch him. A well-muscled body that is obviously used to hard work, clothed in fitted pants, a loose black shirt with a V that gives a tantalizing glimpse of a broad chest sprinkled with hair, and a duster I want to steal right off his back. His eyes are almost as dark as Lizzie’s … No, best not to think about Lizzie or how furious she looked when I saw her last. How murderous.
If I can get through a different portal, I really will be beyond her grasp.
I tuck the thought away. It’s a potential plan for the future, but first I have to navigate this mess I’ve found myself in.
The captain surveys me with a critical eye, his expression all forbidding lines that do not give me a thrill. “If I remove your gag, will you behave?”
Absolutely not. I try to look sincere as I nod. He doesn’t seem convinced, but the power wedging my jaw shut eases. I open and close my mouth a few times. It doesn’t actually hurt—he was remarkably gentle, with superior control—but I’ll take any drop of guilt I can dredge up. It’s an excellent lever to get people to do what you want.
Unfortunately, there’s none to be seen on his face. If anything, he looks more irritated. “I didn’t hurt you, so stop playing that game.”
“Maybe I have a glass jaw.”
“You don’t.”
He’s right. I abandon that line of manipulation and move on to the next. “I didn’t mean to end up here. There was a glitch in the portal I was using. I have a family that needs me. Children. Four of them. If I don’t get back, they’ll starve.”
He might as well be carved from granite. “What are their names?”
I blink. “What?”
“Your starving children. Their names.” He snaps his fingers. “Quickly.”
“Dean, Sam, John, and … Cas.”
The captain doesn’t seem convinced. “Even if that were true, which I highly doubt, it makes no difference. We have our laws for a reason.”
“Your laws. Not mine.”
“You’re in Threshold, Evelyn. They’re your laws now.”
The way he says my name is so severe, I don’t know what to do with my body’s reaction to it. I simultaneously want to flee the room and climb him like a grumpy tree. Which is just further proof that my hormones cannot be trusted.
First Lizzie, who was totally willing to let me die and will undoubtedly try to hunt me down and kill me for betraying her.
Now this captain, who gave me the option to join his crew but obviously has no problem killing me if I decline.
The best way to win a fight with a telekinetic is to never start one. The second best way is to knock them silly in a dirty attack and then run like hell. Neither is an option right now. I’m on a ship in the middle of an ocean. I have nowhere to run to, even if my arms were free.
There’s an angle here. I just need to find it. “What’s your name, Captain?”
He clenches his jaw like he might not answer, but finally he says, “Bowen.”
“Nice strong name for a nice strong lad.”
He doesn’t smile. “You have a choice, Evelyn. Make it.”
So we’re back to that. I shift, trying to press against his telekinetic hold on me. The fucker is strong, I’ll give him that. I think I could break the magic around me given the right spell, but the longer he holds me, the more I wonder if that’s even true.
Most people have tells, even if you’ve only just met them. Their faces or bodies give them away, provide leverage to get what I want. Having a conversation with him is like beating my head against a stone wall. I don’t think I can talk my way out of this one.
True fear licks up my spine, putting an edge of desperation into my tone. “Drop me at a portal. Any portal. Or throw me back into the sea and I’ll find my own portal.”
“We’re days away from the nearest island. You won’t make it without a ship.”
If that’s true, then he’s probably right. I could theoretically propel myself through the water for a decent amount of time, but my energy reserves aren’t unlimited, and I can’t hold a spell for days on end. Especially one that would require so much power.
But neither of the other options are good. “Well then, I’m not choosing.”
He flicks a glance over my shoulder to the door we just came through. “Not choosing is still a choice. Any choice that isn’t joining the C?n Annwn is a choice for death.”
I go cold in a way that has nothing to do with the pleasant chill of the room or my wet clothes. “What’s to stop me from joining your little fan club and then betraying you the first chance I get?”
“There are vows.”
Vows were made to be broken. Bunny’s voice whispers through me. Maybe I can work with this? I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, well, in that case—”
“Whatever you’re thinking, discard it,” he cuts in. “In the event that someone breaks their vows and deserts, a hunt is called and the entire fleet participates. The longest a deserter has lived is three days.”
Three days. That’s … not a long time. “So you put a magical tracker on them when they take the vow. That’s hardly sporting.”
Bowen stares at me for a long moment. “This is not a game. I’m sure you’re very formidable, but you are no match for us. Take the vow and take it seriously. Mourn your old life if you must, but let it go.” Shadows lurk in his eyes, but he blinks and they’re gone. “You don’t want the fate that awaits you if you try to run. Trust me.”
He sounds so sincere, it makes me fight down a shiver of dread. I’m good at evasion, but this group is the C?n Annwn. The Wild Hunt exists in multiple folklore traditions, but the general consensus is that they’re unstoppable. When they ride, smart people hide. Getting swept up in the hunt might mean you end up miles—and sometimes years—away from where you started … or it might mean you end up as prey.
The prey never escape.
These C?n Annwn either got their name from the myth or the myth got the name from them. Neither option is ideal for my odds of evading them indefinitely. Three days. I bite down on questions about that person. The way Bowen spoke of them, I bet he was part of that hunt. Were they just a normal person? Were they magical? Surely I have some kind of advantage over them.
I clear my throat. “Why the choice? Seems like guiding people back to their home realms would be just as good an option as anything. Having your crews staffed with reluctant people can’t be good for business.”