Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) Rebecca Grey (first e reader txt) 📖

Frigid wind tries to take my breath with it as I step onto the deck. A few crew members lounge around in various places, doing whatever tasks keep the ship pushing toward our next destination. A dark figure leans against the farthest railing at the bow of the ship. The edges of the large pink fur coat rise up in the breeze and flutter behind him. Marcello's gaze is upcast.

I close my eyes, telling myself I shouldn't. Because I shouldn't care. I don't. I don't care. Then why are you even contemplating going over there?

"Fuck," I whisper under my breath and head for the edge of the ship. Cursing myself for not grabbing my cloak, I wrap my arms around my body. In my hurry to leave the bed and get away from the torment inside my mind, I didn’t even bother to slip into my boots.

Marcello doesn't move from his position, with his hands clasped, as I stop next to him and peer out at the dark ocean. What does he see out there? What does he see up there? The dark night sky and the black waters practically blend together with no beginning or end as they stretch toward the horizon. Even the stars reflect in the crests of the ocean, sparkling and winking without care.

"Can't sleep?" Marcello pulls his attention from above and turns to watch me.

Every single gust of wind, as cold and rough as it is, brings me closer to reality and helps me shake away the claws of my nightmare. I lift a hand and tug my ponytail from my hair. It's messed up anyway. The blonde strands tumble and fall down past my shoulders. It doesn't stay there for long before the winds toss it behind me.

"Bad dream," I mumble and look down at my hands, shoving the tie to my wrist.

"I get those too."

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I tell myself until I believe it's true.

"You don't have a coat." Marcello pulls away from the railing, turning to face me. "Or shoes. Are you crazy? You'll get sick or frostbite or some other minor thing that really, really affects Humans."

Am I crazy? Maybe. Probably. Certainly, yes.

"Why do you care? You don't have to pretend like my life means anything. No one else does."

He shakes his head before he starts to pull his arms from his large coat. "You're on my team now, Nilsa. I need you living to complete the damn Games." He sets his coat over my shoulders. The scent of mint comes with it. "And you can't compete if you aren't in top health."

"Right," I whisper. I stare straight ahead.

"You didn't like that answer?" He sounds so confused.

"I expected that answer."

A large wave crashes against the boat, spraying water up onto us. It freezes on my skin, but I don't move to brush it away like Marcello does. He swipes at his face, then looks at me again. His arm reaches out and he snatches a strand of my hair out of the wind and plucks ice off it.

"Do you want me to take a deeper interest in you, Nilsa?" His voice lowers to a seductive rasp.

"No." I keep my answer short and sweet. You don't care. Stop caring. I don't care. I don't care. I shout the thoughts too loudly inside my head until I'm nervous he can hear them.

"I think you're intriguing. Certainly, you’ve gotten my attention since I came all this way to enlist you for my team."

"Stop taunting me." My head swivels slowly to his gaze. I stare back at him. He really is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and that's what makes this so much worse. He's an Elf. He's a bloody pirating Elf. I remind myself.

"I'm not." His accent makes him sound so innocent.

I snort.

"Really, truly, I’m not. You don't believe me?"

"Why would you have any interest in a Human? Other than my obvious skill set." I fold my arms across my chest. His coat keeps the heat trapped within it.

"I don't know. Because you're one of the last of your kind. You're a total cynic—”

"I'm not a cynic," I interrupt. "My life is fucking terrible. I’m a realist."

He rolls his eyes, still smirking at me. "I don’t know, maybe you remind me of someone. You've managed to survive in the roughest part of our world, in the fucking Bend. I don't know much, but I don't doubt that if you put your mind to something, it takes a lot for you to not complete the task. It's why you looked so damn pissed off when I confronted you outside Geno's Bar. You knew your job was not complete." Marcello tilts toward me, running his firelit gaze over me, over every curve of my body. "You wanted to run me through with your blade. Even now you want to kill me, don't you?"

Surrounded by his fresh scent, it's true. I want to kill him. The plan is to watch my daggers suck the life out of him till he's nothing but skin, bone, and blood on the floor. My job isn't complete until Marcello Torres comes to an end.

"If you want me to care about you, Nils. All you have to do is say the word."

All I have to do is say the word. That's a lie. He's lying. All Hybrids do is lie. But I can't bring myself to say that, even though the accusation sits behind my teeth. I hold myself a little tighter and tear my gaze away from him. His eyes flick up and down my body one last time.

"I know I should sleep. You should sleep too. Tomorrow will be just as long as today." Marcello sighs, but doesn't move to leave. He lowers himself back to the railing, propping