Page 51

The wounded look on his face makes my chest tighten, but I refuse to give in.

“I—” He stops himself and bows his head.

The silence is deafening and I can’t stand that the only sound I hear is the roaring of my blood rushing in my ears.

“I told you about my father and his dealings with Red Beard. I told you how my father’s mistakes destroyed our family, and you?—”

“I was wrong!” he bellows, then strides toward me and takes my face between his hands. “I was so terribly wrong, Rowenya.”

Silver lines the rims of his eyes, making my heart crack a little more.

“I know that having your father’s reputation restored means the world to you.

To know that he didn’t make the wrong decision in getting himself entangled with an evil man, but that he was forced to do what was necessary to protect you—well, that would change everything.

But the truth is that I don’t know if that was what happened.

” He pauses, letting his words sink in, and I feel as though I’ve been punched in the gut.

“Not with your father, at least. I didn’t want to give you false hope in thinking your father was forced to do the things he did when he may very well have done them of his own volition. ”

My entire body aches from his words. Each one is like a tiny cut stricken across my skin. Each one is a reminder of my past and just how afraid I’ve become because of it. Afraid for how I might be seen for the things I’ve done. For the things I’ve had to do in order to survive.

“You should have told me. From the moment you made that vow, you should have been honest, if that is what you wanted from me. But you weren’t and now .

. .” I try to look away, but he keeps my face firmly between his hands.

And when he runs his thumb along my cheek, my eyes flutter from the sensation.

The longing to just let go of this fight and let everything be okay nags at me.

But I can’t.

Not when trust is the most important thing our kind has to offer . . . and receive.

Right now, that bond has been broken between us. Shattered before it even had the time to gain strength.

“Now I know the wrong, I have to make right. And I will spend every day making sure it is done. Making sure that you believe in me—in us.”

I let out a shuddering breath and when I try to step away from him this time, he lets me. The absence of his warm skin against mine is a cruel thing, but I can’t think straight when he’s that close. Hells, I can hardly think straight when he’s just in the room with me.

Grayson stands still as stone, but I know he watches me as I pace back and forth in front of his large mahogany desk, sifting through my thoughts until I finally stop and bury my face in my hands as a storm of conflicting emotions barrel through me.

“Rowenya,” Grayson breathes. The sound of my name on his lips is tortured and broken.

When I look at him, his hands flex at his sides, like he’s doing everything in his power not to reach out for me again.

“Rowenya, you must know that it was only my intention to protect you. Not to keep secrets from you.” His head lowers and his dark locks fall around his face.

When he looks back up at me, the devastation written across his face shatters my resolve. “I see now how wrong that was.”

He takes one step toward me. Then another.

He moves slowly, like I’m some wild animal that might flee at any given moment.

When he finally reaches out to palm the side of my cheek, I don’t run away.

I let the searing touch of his skin against mine ground me as I bring my hand up and rest it over his.

The column of his throat moves as he swallows and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so . . . fragile .

“You must know that I have searched the heavens and earth for you and now that you’re here in my arms”—he snakes his other arm around my waist—“I’m . . . afraid.”

My breath hitches on his final word.

Afraid .

But Grayson Tyde isn’t afraid of anything. He is ruthless and cunning. Ready to do what must be done. But never . . . afraid .

“Grayson,” I breathe, and he places his thumb over my bottom lip, running it along the edge.

“Please,” he begs. “Just let me say this and then I promise I will hear whatever you need me to hear.”

I take in a breath and stay silent—allowing him this moment.

“I have never allowed myself to care about anything or anyone beyond the simplest notion of what is right. I have tried to do my part to extinguish the evil in this world and I’ve been far from perfect in my attempts.

But even as I gazed upon our victories to see the wicked destroyed, there has been a piece missing.

A piece that I have searched for for far too long. ”

The flecks of stardust in his eyes glimmers so stunningly I forget that I am not looking at heaven itself.

“Then there you were. The brightest light amongst the darkness. The most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, baring your teeth in the face of grave danger, and I knew you were mine—even if I couldn’t be yours.

I said I would be your villain, Little Pearl, because I would rather you hate me and at least feel something for me than nothing at all. ”

There it is. His proclamation laid bare before me with nothing more to hide behind. No mask. No sneering remark to win the game we’ve always played. Nothing but him. In all his dark and broken glory.

Reaching up, I thread my fingers through his ebony locks and pull him down to me. Then I kiss him like he is the answer to every prayer I have whispered to the stars.

A deep vibration rumbles in his chest as he brings me closer, pressing his open palm into the small of my back. His lips are soft against mine and he takes his time exploring, as if we aren’t being chased to the ends of the earth. As if there is no one else who exists in this world.

With every brush of his lips against mine, I feel the significance of those long years while he waited for me. The loneliness . . . and the hope that it might all be washed away the moment he saw me at the docks.

Opening for him, he deepens the kiss and the first stroke of his tongue against mine sends a cascade of shivers down my spine, electrifying every inch of my body.

Grayson Tyde is not the villain in my story.

He is my awakening .

A whimper crawls up my throat as he breaks away to look at me. Those oceanic eyes drink me in like I am the storm to replenish their depths.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

A blush crawls up my neck and into my cheeks.

“Grayson, I?—”

Looking away, I clamp my mouth shut, as too many thoughts whirl through my mind.

That familiar touch lands beneath my chin as he pulls my face back to look at him. “Tell me,” he commands.

I sigh, unsure of the words that are about to leave my lips. “You said there are to be no more half-truths between us.”

He nods once as his eyes search mine for the words I can’t seem to say.

Another moment passes and I finally gain the courage to speak my truth.

“There is a part of me that was angered by your omission. You made a vow and then broke it.” He flinches, but I grasp his hand and squeeze it.

“But there’s another part of me that feels .

. . thankful . . . for your protection.”

Peering down at the floor beneath us, I try my best to gather my thoughts. When I meet his gaze again, I feel the weight on my soul wash away, because there’s no judgment in his eyes. There’s nothing but patience and . . . perhaps something more that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“I am thankful because the belief that my father might have made a mistake made the burden of my own mistakes not feel as insurmountable. I’d always placed my father on a pedestal.

He was the light in my life and I loved him so very much.

” Tears fill my eyes. “And when I first discovered that he had dealings with Red Beard, I initially thought that my anger for him would last forever. But it didn’t.

It made me realize that he was still the person I always thought he was, but he’d made a mistake.

And that meant that I could live with all the mistakes I’d made myself, because he wasn’t perfect, either. ”

“But now . . .” Grayson strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Now you’re not sure if everything you based yourself and your decision making on was real.”

Those tears creep to the corners of my eyes and my lips tremble as I nod. Splaying his palm over the back of my hair, Grayson brings me to his chest. Curling my hands into the fabric of his tunic, I let the slow, steady beat of his heart ground me as a sob catches in the back of my throat.

I do not want to cry.

Not over this.

Not while I’m in his arms.

Grayson smooths his hand over the back of my head again and again in slow, soothing strokes. “Even if your father had been coerced into his dealings with Red Beard, that does not mean you should be ashamed of the decisions you’ve made.”

“But—”

“But nothing, Rowenya. We do not live in a just world. There is evil around every corner, beckoning us toward it. Evil that forces our hand, making survival the only thing we think we’re capable of.

You did what you had to do to survive. Whether your father was compelled by Red Beard to save you and your mother’s life has no bearing on you.

You have to forgive yourself. You have to, Rowenya, or the guilt will lay waste to the rest of your life. ”

The pain of my past is a living, breathing thing inside of me and every time I try to take my dagger to it, it grows.

And maybe that’s been the problem all along.

I thought my only choice was violence, if I wanted to eradicate the guilt and shame that has darkened my heart every time I brought a new crew member aboard the Trinity .

Maybe Grayson is right. I need to replace the hatred I’ve had toward myself with forgiveness.

“I . . . don’t know what that looks like.” I peer up at him and loosen the grip I have on his tunic.