Page 29

M y breath hitches and my stomach coils into a tight knot. “A trafficking ship,” I breathe, and he turns toward me fully now. “How did you know?”

A darkness sweeps across his face and his lips turn down.

Solemnness etches itself into the sharp planes of his face—a look I’ve never once seen before from Grayson Tyde.

Some part of me knows he is no longer wearing a mask.

What I see in front of me is the truth of him.

And somehow, he’s even more devastatingly beautiful.

He exhales a long breath and scrubs his face with his hands before he looks down at me. “I received word before we left Silvermoon Landing that a merchant ship was on its way through The Narrow’s Passage to make port in Esoros. The captain had booked a sizeable coach to travel out west.”

I move to sit on the edge of the bed, my mind swimming with countless thoughts, but one thing rings the loudest. “The Pit.”

Grayson nods. “Yes.”

“They were selling children into the sex slave trade?” I ask.

“The children of The Pit have no one to look out for them. Most are orphaned from the moment they’re born, making them easy targets for trafficking traders to snag them.”

Bile rises in my throat as memories of Raven’s dirty face peering up at me as I walked by her brothel all those years ago assault my mind. She was just a child when she was sold as a sex worker—forced to do things no child should even have knowledge of.

My body grows cold as my mind jumps to Tommy and what it must have been like for him living in The Pit for so many years. Every day he had to fight for survival. Every day he probably woke up thinking it would be his last.

“Where were they intending on bringing them once they left The Pit?” I rasp, feeling my throat grow thick with emotion.

“I’m not sure. We know there’s an active sex slave trade in Esoros and parts of it make their way down here, to Emerald Cove.

Due to The Code, pirate law tends to keep it at bay for the most part, but there are still some cases of children going missing from the island from time to time.

” The bed dips as he sits down next to me.

His long legs sprawl in front of him and I try not to think of how both of us will manage to fit on the mattress to sleep.

Grayson sighs heavily. “Word has spread that the traffickers are trying to deliver more to their contacts in the Northern Realm to eliminate risk of discovery. My crew and I have been working with a few others to keep the trade contained, but it requires severe and swift brutality. If we let even one of them escape death?—”

“It puts the children at risk.”

Turning his gaze on me, he nods again. Sadness creases the edges of his eyes and mouth, and I feel it radiate deep in my bones like a screaming echo that has no end.

Hiking my legs onto the bed, I cross them and shift so that I’m facing Grayson. A lingering buzz from the alcohol makes my eyelids feel heavy. I rub at them with my fists and blink the sleepiness away.

“How long have you been after them for?”

“Since King Renard was put on the throne and Esoros has fallen into darkness.”

King Renard’s coronation was thirty years ago and Grayson has been fighting the trafficking trade all that time.

For as long as I can remember, Grayson’s name was feared, even by the most notorious pirates.

His ruthlessness and tendency to kill on a whim have always been perceived as pure evil by everyone who caught word of his endeavors.

We all thought there was something innately wrong with him and the smartest of us did what we could to avoid his attention shifting onto us. With this new information though . . .

“How many have there been?” I ask.

His dark brows furrow.

“Trafficking ships. How many have you destroyed?”

He looks forward and his face hardens. “Hundreds, but the trade is always evolving and we haven’t been able to discover the main source that keeps it going.

Whoever heads the trade creates enough of a smoke screen around themselves to prevent anyone from finding out who they are.

It doesn’t matter if we destroy thousands of their ships.

If we don’t cut the head off the snake, the children of this realm will never be safe. ”

I place my hand over his and his eyes dart to where our bodies connect. I jerk my hand back, realizing my mistake and clear my throat. “It does matter, Grayson. Every ship you destroy is a child’s life you save. And there is no greater thing you can do in this world than defend the innocent.”

“Careful now,” he purrs. “One might take your words as kindness toward me.”

I roll my eyes. “With the way you behaved tonight?”

Sorrow and despair is replaced with a feline smirk that pulls at something deep in my core. “I would do it again if it meant protecting you from that vile man. He should not have touched you, Rowenya.”

Stricken by Grayson’s words I feel that incessant tug to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his touch caress my face. To get lost in those oceanic eyes that always seem to enchant my wary heart.

“No, he shouldn’t have. But you must understand that I am fully capable of handling myself. I do not need anyone to defend me.”

Ever since I was a little girl, my father enlightened me to the cruelty of this world.

Around every corner is a threat lurking in the shadows, waiting to seize the opportunity to strike.

He taught me that I must be ready to shield myself against those who would relish in causing me harm.

He showed me the truth of what the monsters in the night are capable of.

And in his death, I witnessed the most terrifying lesson of all—that the people closest to you, the ones you trust implicitly, are those whose deadly strike you will never see coming.

“I know you are capable of protecting yourself.” Grayson’s voice is low and gravelly as he slides a lock of hair behind my ear.

Heat flushes my cheeks. “But that does not mean you have to do everything on your own. I have brought you onto my ship and I do not take that lightly, Little Pearl. For when someone is under my care, I intend to keep them safe.”

Safe . Such a foreign word, given the world we live in and the journey we are about to embark upon.

“You speak of fairytales, Grayson.”

He moves his hand to cup the side of my face and I hold my breath, allowing myself this single moment of peace as his warmth seeps into my skin.

The silver cuffs in my hair clink together as I nuzzle my face into his open palm.

The column of his throat works as he swallows and when he moves his face closer to mine I feel my heart skip a beat.

Like the high tide moving closer to shore, I cannot help my body’s reaction to him. It comes from some unknown place inside of me. Some ancient thing that awoke the moment he claimed me as his on the docks of Silvermoon Landing.

His gaze shifts to my lips and I feel myself leaning closer to him—I feel myself wanting for him to close the gap between us. To kiss me.

And just as my eyes flutter closed, a loud knock lands against the door and I jolt back, springing my eyes open again to see an annoyed look on Grayson’s face. He growls in frustration as I sit up tall and right my tunic to busy my hands.

He moves toward the door and cracks it open. I can’t see who’s standing on the other side, but I hear Zaos’s voice as he whispers something just low enough so I can’t fully make it out.

Grayson glances at me over his shoulder and I don’t know why, but I give him a small smile.

The right corner of his lips tilt upward and just with that small gesture, I feel a lightness flit through my chest. The feeling is foreign and strange and it makes my head spin a little, like I’ve slipped under the waves of the ocean for too long and my lungs are desperate for air.

I sit quietly and fiddle with my thumbs like a child as they exchange words.

What just happened between us? Was I truly about to kiss Grayson Tyde? The thoughts come too quickly, making my head spin.

Grayson has always been one who utilizes his power to take advantage of others—or so I thought.

What he spoke of this evening—his mission to intercept the sex slave trade and save children from a life of torment and despair—is the first time I have heard such a tale, and it makes me question whether his story is true or if he has used it to exploit my vulnerabilities.

It is no mystery that most of the members of my crew are survivors of some egregiously inhumane acts.

It would be a master manipulation indeed for him to use that knowledge as a way to pacify me.

I also understand that if his deeds of pursuing undercover trafficking ships were widely known, it could send those involved further underground, making it much more difficult to identify them and thus, more challenging to save the children involved.

As Grayson closes the door and walks back toward me, I decide to trust his story.

But that does not mean I should give in so easily to his charms. He is still dangerous and I’ve allowed myself to become too complacent in this endeavor toward finding Thaeto’s treasure.

Too consumed with my own grief of losing Raven and the disdain for myself in cultivating a poor plan to steal the Serpent’s Key.

Taking the golden artifact from the inner pocket of my coat, I run my fingers over the indented lines until I find the notch that I discovered a few days ago. A small rectangle juts out just as it did before and I extend it toward Grayson.

He just stares at it. A mixture of emotions dance across his face so quickly I’m unable to identify them before he dons his usual mask and whatever thoughts he has become unreadable to me.

Something like disappointment settles in my chest when I realize that he won’t tell me what he’s thinking—even after everything he just shared.