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His hand drops from the back of my head to my shoulder.

“It starts with the knowing that you made a choice—good or bad, it was yours. You must own the decisions you’ve made instead of running away from them.

Once you face them . . . you can look at yourself in the mirror and know that your intentions were sound.

And if they weren’t, well . . .” He takes in a deep breath.

“You can rest assured that my intentions are rarely ever pure. Yet, somehow, you still manage to find something good in me. Something worthy of your affections.”

Leaning back, I take him in. Remembering that moment when he told me he would be the villain in my story should I need it.

Here he is now, willing to do the same for the sake of my own well-being.

He would sacrifice his integrity. He would willingly allow himself to be seen as someone terrible if it means making me feel better.

My heart swells as I look at him. This magnificently beautiful male who does not shy away from darkness, but instead laughs at it as if it were something trivial and benign. As if it holds no power over him when most would crumble under the weight of what he has done.

“You are good, Grayson.” I trace the outline of his scar with my finger and he shudders. “You once said you would like to destroy the one who gave me the scar on my face. I think I would very much like to do the same to whomever did this to you.”

Reaching up, he takes my hand in his and presses my fingertips to his lips.

“My Little Pearl shows her teeth again. I must say, you look divine dancing amongst the shadows.”

His words are a reminder of something I’ve intended to ask him for a while. “Speaking of violence, I want in on your dealings with Seger and Hawke.”

Grayson’s face drops just enough for me to know that he doesn’t like the idea.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What do you mean, no?” I try and fail at hiding the bite in my words.

“I don’t trust them. And I certainly don’t trust that they wouldn’t sell you to the highest bidder if given the chance.”

“ Sell me?” My brows pinch together.

“You are a precious thing, Rowenya. Your beauty is striking and the people we are after are in the business of selling pleasure ,” he spits out the last word as if it burns his tongue.

“During the meeting you spoke of saving children. I don’t understand.” I cross my arms over my chest wondering if his wariness is just another display of possessiveness.

“That is our intention, yes. But we have encountered many ships that have had captured women and men, as well as creatures. We have done our best to save as many lives as possible, but there are only a few of us concerting our efforts to stop the trafficking trade. Over the years, we have had to focus on the ships we know have children, or at least knowledge of where they capture and trade them.”

“If you’ve been doing this for years, then why don’t you trust Seger and Hawke?”

Grayson’s jaw ticks and I roll my eyes.

“You do trust them,” I realize. “You just don’t trust them with me .”

Grayson sighs and I take another step back, frustration licking up my spine.

“Yes,” he responds, sliding his hands back through his hair with an exasperated look on his face. “You’re right. I don’t trust them with you. Not when I know what they are capable of and given the right opportunity, what they might do to you.”

The wide expanse of his chest rises and falls rapidly. I’ve never seen Grayson look this way before. He’s . . . flustered. His control is slipping.

Slowly, I move toward him again and his nostrils flare. But when I slide my hands up his chest, resting them above his heart, his breathing starts to grow steady.

“I feel as you do,” I whisper. “This burning desire that threatens to overpower me anytime I think of you. You have become . . . special to me, Grayson.” Snaking my hand upward, I run my fingertips along the smooth skin of his neck and further still until they rest along the edge of his shadowed jaw.

The short scruff of hair makes my skin tingle, shooting little sparks down my arm.

“But I am not a pretty bird to be caged.” His eyes flash at my words. “If I am truly yours, then you must let me be free. Free to do as I please. To stand at your side and not behind you—no matter how strong the urge to protect me becomes.”

He pinches the pearl in my hair between his thumb and forefinger and I see his mind working as he mulls over my words.

There is so much he does not know about me, and yet, I have never felt more seen every time he looks at me. What we have was forged in darkness, but it was made of pure starlight. With every passing day, it has glowed brighter, becoming something beyond what I ever thought possible.

But he must know . . .

That light would turn ashen if he thinks of placing shackles around my heart.

Closing his eyes for a breath, Grayson breathes in deeply. “Forgive me, Rowenya.” He drops the pearl and tucks the lock of hair behind my ear, running his thumb along the cuff. “I find all sense of my control falling away when it comes to you.”

I smirk and he moves his thumb from my ear to the side of my face, where the ghost of my past is etched into my skin by three scars.

Grayson’s voice is low, hardly above a whisper when he says, “I can promise that I will never cage you. That I will never stand in the way of your desires or your freedom. But if I were to ever witness harm coming to you, Rowenya . . .” Those ocean blue eyes turn glacial as he peers down at me.

“There is no force great enough to stop me from tearing apart this world and everyone who lives upon it to ensure no harm ever comes to you again.”