"Alrik, faster," I said breathlessly.

"This is as fast I can go or else you'll be sore."

"Who cares about me being sore? We–"

I paused for a moment to breathe, "We need to get there by noon so row faster. My grandma moves faster than you and she's probably eight hundred years old."

Alrik stopped rowing and turned his head to glare at me, "Has anyone ever told you that you are extremely bossy?"

"That's a little rich coming from you, Mr. Refill-my-coffee."

He made the smart decision of choosing not to reply and returned to his silent rowing. Even if we spent much of our time groping each other, he never failed to remind me that there was a cocky side to him that I did not appreciate. It was as if he was brought up to believe that everyone would work for him, and he would not have to return the favor.

I could already tell he ruled his pack with an iron fist from his interactions with his pack warriors and based on the information Reece told me and prior knowledge, he did not have a sympathetic bone in his body for anyone who disobeyed him.

It was his way or the highway to your own personal hell.

"Why are you always staring at me? I know I look good, but that doesn't mean you can stare at me like a piece of meat." I could hear the humor in his voice.

I snorted loudly, "We're in the middle of nowhere. What am I supposed to look at?"

"The water, the sky, the clouds, the seagull–"

Just as he mentioned the seagull, a splatter of white liquid landed on his shoulder along with a little bit of questionable grey squishy stuff.

We both were frozen in shock before realization hit me, "Oh my god, Alrik!"

"That despicable bird–"

"The seagull means we're close to land!" I exclaimed, waving at the squawking seagull excitedly like a mad woman at the park.

Alrik swiveled his head in my direction once again, allowing me to see the pissed look on his face.

"I have just been used as a public urinating device and all you care about is that we are close to land?" He growled out through gritted teeth.

If I wasn't so excited about being close to the island, I would have found this whole situation comical. The big, bad, domineering Alpha was peed and pooped on by a little seagull.

His reaction was surprisingly humorous as well– he could handle his enemy's blood and guts all over him but a little bird poop on his shoulder got him riled up.

"Don't worry, Alrik," I said, barely concealing my urge to laugh, "I'm sure the seagull was just claiming his or her territory."

He narrowed his eyes, "That's what dogs do."

"I mean, you are..." I trailed off as he stood up and ripped his shirt off, causing his bronze skin to shine under the sunlight from the light sheen of sweat that covered his chest.

This was the first time I had seen him shirtless, and I was at a loss for words.

He wasn't perfect, and I loved that his blemishes could make him even more attractive in my eyes.

Like how women worried about stretch marks, a lot of men were insecure about their battle scars, both internally and externally. They didn't realize that women loved them scars and all because six packs did not represent strength, the scars that riddled their body and told the story of the battles they conquered and left behind were the real definition of strength.

And when men were confident enough to show off those scars with pride, they immediately became more captivating, which was the perfect word to describe Alrik.

He had faint scars scattered across his chest and arms, and I could finally see what the enticing tattoo on his neck was. It appeared to be a tribal design with no specific part that was supposed to draw attention. The tattoo was subtle but beautiful, and I had an inexplicable urge to trace my fingers over every curve.

"Would you like me to piss all over you?"

His crude words snapped me from ogling, "I beg your pardon?"

He was stepping over his seat carefully, making sure not to rock the boat too much, "You were insinuating I'm a dog. So I'm assuming you're into golden showers instead of marks."

When he stood in the tiny space for my feet, he crouched and leaned forward to grab his bag from behind me.

I rolled my eyes and tried not to squirm as his breath tickled the crook of my neck, "I'm fine with any other shower but that one."

Any other shower.

The meaning behind my words echoed in my head, and my cheeks started to burn as Alrik stopped moving behind me.

It wasn't a lie, but I didn't need to be so blunt about it.

I cleared my throat softly, attempting to get rid of the obvious tension in the air. Alrik pulled away and stared me down with dark, curious eyes. I blinked back at him nonchalantly as if I didn't just imply I would be fine with a cum shower.

His hand appeared in my line of vision as he squeezed my bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. My eyes widened as he gently tugged my lip and almost leaned his forehead against mine.

"You need to watch that mouth of yours before you get exactly what you ask for," he muttered huskily before releasing my lip from his tight grip.

I huffed and pushed his chest away, "You need to stop distracting me. We're on an important world-saving mission, and we keep acting like horny rabbits."

He raised an eyebrow at my quick dismissal and moved back to his seat as I exhaled deeply.

We needed to get a hold of ourselves, at least until we were off the island.