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His canines gleam in the moonlight when his lips pull back into a dangerous grin that has my toes curling in my boots. “But now you do have me looking out for you. Which means you can survive better .”

I roll my eyes and take a bite of the apple. He watches me intently and I don’t miss the way he wets his lips with his tongue. My entire body shivers when I think of what that tongue might be capable of doing.

Grayson chuckles when he sees my body react.

“You’re terrible!” I half-laugh before I throw the rest of the apple right at his face. With a quickness that shocks me, he catches the apple before it makes contact. His large hand squeezes around the fruit, and I can’t help but laugh as rivers of juice wind down his forearm.

He lowers his hand to reveal a dangerously mischievous look on his face. “My Little Pearl, for all your beauty it never ceases to amaze me just how violent you are.”

Grayson takes a bite from the apple. Seeing his lips move over the fruit has me clenching my thighs together and sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

The column of his throat shifts as he swallows the bite, then he tosses the rest of the apple back to me.

I nearly miss it and have to lean forward to stop myself from dropping it on the floor.

“It’s a sweet one. But not as sweet as you , Little Pearl.”

“Bastard,” I mutter and he laughs.

I finish the rest of the apple as Grayson settles the bed roll on a smooth part of the cavern floor.

He motions for me to sit next to him. Tossing the apple core into the water, I watch the rings emanate from the center.

Tiny waves crash onto the stone all along the edge of the basin.

It’s just as Grayson said. One small decision can impact so much more than we think.

Sitting cross-legged next to Grayson, I’m careful not to let my knee touch his thigh as he sets out the bread and cheese Harrick packed for us.

I take out the Serpent’s Key and start fiddling with the sides to find more release triggers. With Blythe being so close to finding us, I need to solve it tonight—before we leave for the Caelestia at dawn.

“How long have you known Harrick?” I ask.

From the corner of my eye, I see Grayson look down at the Serpent’s Key. His face is unreadable, the mask of stone slipping into place with ease. Then he reaches for the dagger set in the bandolier across his chest and starts cutting the bread and cheese.

“I knew Harrick’s father before he married his mother.”

“Right.” I huff. “I forget just how old you are.”

“Old.” He snorts. “I’m sure there are far better words suited for me than old .” His eyes skate over me and a flush creeps up my neck. He spins his dagger in the palm of his hand. “Charming, intelligent, divinely handsome . . .” He draws out each word with annoying intention.

Rolling my eyes, I add, “And perfectly humble.”

“Yes, I do believe that word fits as well.” He catches the hilt of his blade and sheathes it before extending a piece of bread and cheese to me.

Careful not to let our fingers touch, I take the offering and feel thankful Harrick had the forethought to pack a heartier loaf. My stomach grumbles and I regret not eating very much for lunch.

Grayson leans back on the cavern wall and extends his long legs out in front of him. I look down at the bedroll Zaos found for us. It’s hardly large enough for one person, let alone two. I’d have to sleep on top of Grayson if we both want to fit and that . . . just won’t happen.

I take a few bites of the bread and cheese before Grayson says, “Harrick’s father was a good friend of mine for most of his life.

He wasn’t much for sea faring adventures, but he loved a good ale and every time I came back from hunting a prize, I’d recount the events to him over a pint.

I think the stories made him feel like he had lived through them too.

Almost like he could imagine himself being braver than he was. ”

Finishing the last bite of bread, I start searching for another release on the Serpent’s Key.

“I think living a simple life is brave. To know there’s a large world out there, filled with unseen wonders, and to still choose to be satisfied with what’s right in front of you .

. . I can only imagine what it must be like to not have the constant desire to search for something else. ”

“A pirate’s life,” Grayson says, his voice dropping low. “Our kin’s blood runs through your veins. Deeper than most.”

I look over at him. His dark locks frame his face. “I am made of water and salt. Born to the sea herself?—”

“And she will be the one to claim me,” Grayson says with me. “The Code,” he says with a sigh, “is a complicated thing.”

“We’ve both broken our vow to the ink etched onto parchment. Sometimes I wonder if The Code holds any meaning at all. I wonder if we aren’t just barbarians trying to convince ourselves and the rest of the world that we’re more civilized than we really are,” I say.

My fingers slip across the right side of the Serpent’s Key and another notch releases inward. I look at Grayson then to the golden artifact in my hands with anticipation, but nothing happens.

We both start breathing normally again as I continue to work the sides of the puzzle box. Grayson reaches for one of the packs and pulls out a leather strap, then unsheathes the dagger at his chest. The sound of the metal blade moving against the leather is familiar and soothing.

“We’ve broken The Code because the other choices made available to us were unsavory,” Grayson says, his voice low.

“I’m pretty certain anyone who breaks The Code would say that in their defense.”

He stops sharpening his dagger. “And does that make it wrong?”

Looking at him, I shake my head. “Not wrong. Just . . . difficult.”

He moves the blade against the leather strap again, his arm working forward and backward in long smooth strokes.

“The world is painted in shades of light and dark. There are some things that are so bright, so pure , that not even the depths of the hells could taint their glow. Like the first smile a new born babe shares with its mother. Or a promise of forever shared between two souls.”

His eyes meet mine for a single moment before he looks back down at his blade.

“Then there is evil so dark it would consume the light of even the brightest star. What Tommy went through . . . what all the children sold into slavery go through . . .” His lips are tight as he shakes his head and I feel the rage washing off him as if it were my own.

Grayson’s chest expands as he inhales deeply. “Most things in this world have hues of grey and it is up to us to make decisions based on the information given to us. We won’t always get it right, Rowenya. And sometimes dark things must be done to give way to the light.”

“Like killing an entire crew without putting them on trial,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he says, without remorse. “And if I have to live with their blood on my hands to ensure the safety of innocent children—that is a burden I will happily bear.”