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Chapter Forty-Six

Roan

T he room, which had been a ruckus of noise and men jostling around, grew suddenly quiet around me. I looked up and found faces looking at me, then to the door, then back to me again.

And I just knew.

I dropped the figure I was carving and stood. And there she was, standing in the doorway, her attention already on me.

It was probably Toke alone who kept me standing, she was so beautiful in that moment. My breath hitched. My eyes swept over her, whole and healthy and here in my doorway. And I prayed I wasn’t dreaming.

Her hand was clasping her elbow in front of her, and there was a blush at her cheeks.

Gorgeous .

And it wasn’t until Jory cleared his throat that I realized I was meant to do something. I gave myself a shake.

Running a hand through my hair nervously, I closed the space between us. When I drew close, she stepped back, and I followed her into the dark night, closing the door just as the murmurs and chuckles and whoops took hold inside.

Goose was there, and he jumped happily around my feet. I bent to pet him before I stood, facing Fen .

“Hi,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. I didn’t trust myself with them. Not with her standing there so close. I wanted to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, straighten the clasp on her cloak, rub her arms to see if she was warm enough. Anything. All of it. More.

“Hey.” She took a breath. “How are you?”

“Okay,” I said. “You?”

“Fine.”

I nodded.

I wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in all my life, and I was so glad she was here, and I missed her so much it hurt, like a bruise inside me that Toke had his thumb on.

But I didn’t say any of that. She was free of me, and I needed her to know it.

To know it deep in the marrow of her bones.

She was her own person. And for the first time in her life, she could choose her own fate.

I didn’t want to take that from her. I didn’t dare open my mouth for fear of swaying her before she’d had all the time she’d needed to come to her own conclusions.

But the silence stretched on, and it was growing harder to not pull her into my arms and kiss her.

“I was wondering,” she started, saving me from myself, “if you wanted to go for a walk. With me.”

I blinked at her. I could only just make out her face for all the dark gloom that surrounded us.

“Now?”

“We don’t have to. I just thought it might be—”

“I’d love to.”

She looked up at me. “You sure?”

“I’d love too.”

I’d been nearly breathless when I’d said it, and I cleared my throat .

She smiled. “Okay.”

We walked that night and every night after, sometimes to the moon and stars, sometimes to the light of a lantern.

On the fourth night, she kissed me. One moment she was smiling at something stupid I’d said, the moon on her face, and the next she was closing the space between us, putting her lips to mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And I lost myself in her, just like that. She was a squall, and I was just a lone ship, nothing but her in my sails.

And I’d let her sink me again and again.

All my careful control was lost on me after that, but she didn’t seem to mind.

My hands kept seeking her out, brave words tripped off my tongue before I’d even considered them, and I fumbled over myself for her each and every night.

My brash honesty didn’t scare her away. Her hands sought me as well.

She whispered words that made me bury my face in her hair and thank Toke for all my stupid luck.

And in the end, she chose me.