A Ship of Bones & Teeth Read Online Karina Halle

Categories Genre: Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
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“Edonia,” I whisper, the realization dawning over me.

Maren nods, sucking on her bottom lip. “Yes. It was Edonia. We were taught to fear the sea witches and to revere the sea witches, and I knew she could grant me my wish. I wanted to be able to be on land, as a human, and make the man, the prince, fall in love with me. I wanted a life that didn’t seem attainable in Limonos.”

My eyes widen. So that’s how she met that pathetic prince.

“She granted me my wish but not before I had to pay the price. She cut out my tongue because she believed it would help with her book of magic.”

My heart stills. Not only because that witch cut out her tongue, a grotesque act of violence even for me, but because it was for her book. For my book, the one that Venla wrote for me, the one that Edonia stole right after she killed my daughter.

“She also told me that I could never return to the sea again and would be destined to be human forever,” Maren goes on. “And it all sounded so fine to my ears because she tricked me. She told me that women were revered on land, that we had all the power, that I would never be under the thumb of a man. She lied to me, and it was that lie that sealed the deal because that’s all I wanted. I had no idea that what waited for me on the shore was what would condemn me to hell for the next ten years.”

She clears her throat, her eyes welling with tears, and presses on. “Hodges, Aerik’s manservant, found me…naked, missing a tongue, unable to talk, barely able to walk. He brought me to Aerik and the prince fell in love with me. Or should I say lust. Of course he did. Because I was mute and I was pretty and I was weak. He loved all of those things but he never loved me. I don’t need to tell you that.”

“So that’s how you came to be a princess,” I say thoughtfully.

“I was a princess in Limonos,” she says with a raise of her chin, her tone defensive. “My father was the king. But I traded that crown for one I had no right to, in a world I didn’t belong to.”

I should have figured. There is something about Maren’s posture and the way that she carries herself that hints to a royal past, even when her monstrous side is coming through. “And how were you able to get your tongue back? I know firsthand you have one from the way you kiss.”

She shrugs, giving me a quick, shy smile. “It grew back. You know when our tails get chomped by curious shark or we lose one during battle with a neighboring kingdom, they grow back. Same happened with my tongue. But other than that, there was no way that anyone would ever believe what I was. In fact, there was no sign of it at all except for the lines on my neck. I didn’t get any of my old self back until I saw Asherah on the Nightwind, and only then did I feel a partial return to my Syren state, or whatever I am now.”

She looks down at her hands, her fingernails normal again. “Aerik never knew the truth about me, neither did Daphne. They all believed my story about being kidnapped from a faraway land by pirates.”

“Pirates?” I chuckle. “I should be so honored.”

“Well, you did kidnap me, Captain Battista,” she reminds me. Her gaze darkens. “And if I’m not mistaken, I believe I’m still kidnapped by you.”

I swallow. “Aye. You are.”

“You could just…let me go,” she says, her tone slightly pleading, eyes soft. “You could find your way back to the Nightwind and you could just leave me here.”

“On Nerissa’s island? I think not.”

“Then you could take me to the nearest safest port and I could finally be free.”

“You are free, my dear. But you also belong to me.”

“That’s not freedom.”

“It is if you want me.”

“But I don’t want you,” she snaps.

I’ve experienced rejection here and there, but this is the first time it’s actually hurt, like a knife between the ribs, finding my soft spot.

“Whether you do or not, I claimed you,” I tell her stiffly.

“But what does that even mean? So you branded your name on me. It’s not magic.” Her eyes slowly widen. “Is it?”

“Some might say it is,” I answer carefully. “Regardless, my name on you means that you belong to me. It’s not just in a spiritual or soulful or sexual manner. It’s keeping you safe from others. It’s a code of the Brethren.”

“You mean to say that had you not branded me with a skull and your initials, I’d be passed around and violated by all your crew? You act so proud of them and yet they’re all a bunch of madmen and rapists.”


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