It was a serene early morning in the middle of the Arctic ocean.
Sounds of whooshing waves and twittering birds as they flew across the deep blue shimmering ocean, looking–through the kaleidoscopic sky illustrated by the rising sun.
The cateraman boat they were boarded on was stable and spacious.
There was reduced rocking and heeling.
Ishmael stood before Neva's cabin.
Fist raised, contemplating if he should knock on the wooden door.
It has been around eleven hours since they harbored on the cateraman boat.
But he couldn't catch any sleep.
He hasn't even unearthed a good look of Neva from the moment they embarked on a sail.
And he couldn't endure this torment anymore.
He knocked on the door.
No answer.
He knocked again.
Heart quickening with each stifling seconds fleeting. Knees weakening, unknown possibilities seeping dullness in him.
He swallowed.
Hand raised to knock when the door opened revealing a shirtless Rhett.
Ishmael stiffened.
Impulsively his gaze slit through to find Neva on the bed.
She was looking at him.
Face peeking through the agape of the white duvet covering all of her but her head.
Messy vines of midnight locks spilled over the cloud like pillow.
She immediately turned her face to the other side.
His heart was numb. His insides were cruxed. An agony so intense and vicious poisoning his lucidness.
He made to step inside but a rough force on his chest impelled to stumble him back.
Ishmael looked at Rhett's blackened face.
Rhett lunged at him, fisting the collar of Ishmael's beige shirt.
Knuckles turning white.
He glared at Ishmael with his jaw locked.
His nostrils flared, breathing heavily.
Debating.
Ishmael stared at him with barren eyes.
Then with a sharp jerk Rhett let him off.
He turned and walked inside the cabin, slamming the door shut on Ishmael's face.
Ishmael just stood there before Neva's cabin for a long moment.
Another man inside the closed door with his wife.
And astray he just stared at the door with blood rimmed veins in those glazed eyes.
---
Neva flinched as Rhett pounded the rims of the door against the jamb.
His back was turned on her.
Head dipped down and fist planted on the door. He was shaking. He was angry.
The muscles in his broad and moderately tanned back clenching.
Augmenting his perfectly virile body were the wide shoulders narrowing down to a lean waist cladded low in a black jogger pants.
Ishmael came looking for her.
As if it was nothing.
That this scenario could be moulded and altered to his preferred imagination.
That the lives he battered and bruised were only a sort of a game of puppetry manipulated by his treacherous hands.
Neva's eyes were somber. How long was this plight to go on?
She knew Rhett was suffering.
All of them were. But she was unaware to how deep this anguish penetrated him.
She turned on her side and faced Rhean who lay beside in an angle facing her.
He was a beautiful boy in deep sleep.
The left of his bread cheek squished and lips agaped breathing evenly.
She caressed his rosy cheek. A thumb tenderly stroking the softness of him. And at that moment footsteps neared the bed.
She looked up at Rhett. Tall frame hovering.
She couldn't help a crimson blush creeping up her warm cheeks at his deep stare on her.
Each inch of his tanned, hardened body dripped in a sensual carnality.
Rugged crafted chest and torso ripped patterned in a rock–hard eight packed abs and enhanced roots of muscles on the sides.
The strong blades of bones down his waist.
"Thirsting for me?" Rhett lifted a brow. Sinewy arms crossed over his chest.
Neva threaded their eyes. She pursed her lips and turned round.
Heat pulsing her face and blushing chest.
Neva felt the bed plunging as Rhett climbed on the bed and slid inside the duvet.
An arm slithering around her waist—closening to him.
Her clothed back colliding with his bare chest.
This heat merging, making her toes curl.
She sucked a sharp breath in. Heart beating cruelly faster.
Rhett removed the lace of hair veiling the side of her face and kissed her jaw.
He moved to her ear and nibbled on the earlobe.
He then lingered slow wet kisses on her neck and down her shoulder. Neva bit her lip to forbid any sinful sound escaping her.
He kissed up on the smooth milky neck and licked and grazed caringly with his teeth on a certain sweet spot.
Neva's breathing became shallower.
Her eyes tightly closed.
Strong arms around her tightening. Pleasure accompanied by a slight stinging on her skin intensifying the fusion of a painful pining.
"If Rhean wasn't here, I would've taken you right here and now." His deep and husky voice rasped in her ear. Melted in passion and desire. Hot breath fanning over her ear.
Her face became hotter and cherry red.
A forest of butterflies fluttering in her belly. She clenched her thighs together.
"Maybe if you were quieter we could still—" "No!" Neva immediately cut off Rhett's forthcoming lascivious remark. Her voice stern but hushed.
She met his darkened eyes.
She caressed his cheek, feeble stubble in his unshaved jaw rough on her palm. His expression soft and meek.
"Not yet." Neva whispered.
"I know. I was just kidding." Rhett revealed a small smile and rubbed the tip of their noses together.
She just smiled, brushing away strands of his tousled hair falling down the forehead.
"How long will it take to reach there?" Neva asked.
"If the weather window doesn't fluctuate, it'll likely take another day or two with the speed we're going." Rhett said, lovingly drawing over Neva's velvet lips with a thumb. "I have to go. It's my turn to keep watch." He leaned and captured her lips.
Neva just hummed in response.
He detached from her warm embrace.
The duvet falling as he got off the bed.
"I'll follow you in a moment." Neva said as he pulled over a grey sweatshirt over his head.
"Alright." He closened to her and kissed her forehead. Once more down on her lips before he finally left the cabin and closed the door behind.
Neva sighed and turned to her son again.
She booped his little nose that resembled a smaller version of his father's.
Rhean was a deep sleeper and wouldn't budge even if she lightly pinched his cheek.
Rhett came to her cabin four hours ago for a quick nap after Ace took over the ocean's route observation.
He had shown her the unclaimed Island allocated in the Arctic ocean on the satellite map that Ishmael brandished as Miraeth.
Back in the Courtyard house, they had discussed certain prospects over Miraeth and she grasped further unknown to her.
Miraeth was 3,000 nautical miles distant afar from Erriador.
The Island was closed off and cryptic. They depended on visual cues and natural landmarks, the waves and swell patterns in the ocean resultant to Ishmael's instigation.
Sky stayed behind for apparent reasons. She would monitor the situation from Erriador and sort out with Elk if the need arised.
It was secure to have someone Rhett could trust on the mainland to cover for them.
Neva climbed off the bed.
After she adjusted the slipping duvet over Rhean and mounted a hill of pillows on the edge to prevent him from falling—she draped a red shawl round her body and walked out to check on the twins who slept with their father.
Fortunately, none of the children suffered sea–sickness and were rather ecstatic to be in the boat.
Neva knocked on the door and internally prayed for Ishmael's abscence.
She didn't want to talk to him or even see him.
"They are still asleep." Ishmael said from behind.
Neva taken aback immediately turned around.
She locked eyes with him.
And his withering face from before when he was at her cabin's door flashed in her eyes.
She dreaded this pang of abysmal in her chest which she should not have a reason to feel.
She could not have betrayed him.
For it was him; his avarice and narcissm that she was shoved this malicious position.
Neva averted her gaze and made to head towards the cockpit where Rhett would be.
But Ishmael caught her wrist. As though he charred her skin she reflexively broke away from his grip.
"Love—" "Don't call me that!" Neva brutally remarked.
Hastened footsteps reverberated and before she could discern the scene a punch landed on Ishmael's jaw.
Neva gasped as Rhett rammed Ishmael to the wall.
"Stay. Away. From. Her."
Ishmael looked at Rhett with indifference.
Rhett to him was a naive fellow and unworthy of utilising his energy on.
He refused to acknowledge him even as his face turned blue from Rhett's hands roped around his neck.
Smothering him.
And he realised it too late when his legs lost strength. Arms uselessly attempting to fracture Rhett's cemented chokehold.
Tears streamed down Neva's face. Yelling as she squeezed Rhett's arm, attempting to remove him off Ishmael.
But he wouldn't listen.
Rhett was deafened... He was blinded with rage.
Before he could commit a murder in the middle of nowhere with her children sharing the same shelter, Neva barged in Ace's cabin.
.
.
.
Ishmael was coughing.
Grasping his neck as his body arched forward.
"You almost killed him." Ace frowned at his Boss.
There was a menacing entity about how Rhett looked at Ishmael with eyes driven by a thirst for massacre.
Neva was shaken and confused at what just happened.
Rhett would have killed Ishmael if Ace didn't make it on time.
"Lock him in." Rhett said and took Neva's wrist, heading up to the short flight of stairs to the cockpit.