Page 57

A n unwelcome chill hangs in the summer air like a grim warning when Grayson and I leave his quarters after dessert and we make our way onto the main deck.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, looking around the unnatural stillness of the ship.

“They took the night off on my orders. They’re all below deck. Getting deep in the bottle, no doubt.”

“You gave them the night off?”

Grayson chuckles as we move closer to the side of the ship. “Despite what you’ve believed about me, I’m not a monster, Rowenya.”

I wince, because that’s exactly what I thought he was. But that was before I knew him.

“What lies ahead . . . is a perilous journey, to put it lightly, and my men work hard every day of their lives. They deserve to have a moment for themselves. Especially knowing that they might not all make it through the next few days.”

Leaning my elbows on the railing, I look into the glimmering darkness.

The moon is high in the sky tonight, casting a silver glow upon the ocean’s surface.

In the distance, white capped waves crash against the protruding rocks of the stone isles peppered along Dead Man’s Passage.

Come the morning, we will be in the midst of it—praying to the slumbering gods that the Caelestia gets us to the other side.

“Do you think they’ve discovered where we are?” I glance up at Grayson. The light breeze moves through his long hair, brushing the strands over his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath in and for the first time I notice the worry etched between his brows. Worry—not for himself, but for his crew. For me.

“Blythe—for all his faults—has always been crafty. When he sets his sights on something he wants, his persistence is unwavering. What we seek is the grandest prize of all. Blythe knows this. It wouldn’t surprise me if he decided to use .

. . alternative tactics to gain information from the people of Emerald Cove to learn where we are. ”

“But no one knows where we are or what is inscribed upon the key.”

“No, they don’t.” The line between Grayson’s brows deepens. “But Blythe doesn’t know that.”

My throat goes dry as the implication sets in.

Harrick.

Collette.

Every eye was set upon us as we moved through the streets of Emerald Cove. All it would take is a pretty coin to get the townsfolk talking about where we stayed, putting Harrick and those he employs at risk.

“Do you think he’d actually torture Harrick?”

The look on Grayson’s face sends a chill down my spine. “I think Blythe would do anything to find the treasure.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. “Grayson, we have to go back. We can’t let Harrick suffer the consequences of our actions.”

His smile is sad as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingertips linger along the side of my neck before he finally drops his hand back to his side. “It is taken care of, Little Pearl.”

“What do you mean, taken care of?”

“I protect what is mine and Harrick has been a friend to me for years.”

The rapid beating of my worried heart slows just a little. “How? How can you take care of him when we are so far away?”

“Every sword bearer on the island was gifted a hefty sum before we left to ensure the safety of Harrick and those in his employ. The prideful bastard nearly had a heart attack when I told him about it, but given Blythe’s tendency to strike his targets at night, I wanted to ensure Harrick’s safety.

He would have been confused when a dozen pirates showed up to guard his inn the evening we spent in the caves if I hadn’t told him. ”

“So, he’s safe?” Relief floods my body.

Grayson lets out a soft laugh that feels like velvet caressing my skin. “Yes.” He tilts his head, assessing me. “To be honest, I’m fairly surprised at your concern for Harrick. You only just met him.”

Shifting my body, I peer out toward the water again. That familiar feeling of a heavy stone weighing down in my stomach comes back. “I don’t want anyone else to die from my decisions.”

Grayson stands at my back and wraps his strong arms around me. I sink into his warmth and feel my body immediately relax. “We do not get to choose who lives or dies by the hands of others, Rowenya. You cannot go through life trying to control everything. The effort alone will drive you mad.”

His words grate on my nerves, and I know it’s because he speaks truth to something I’ve known my entire life. Yet, I keep finding myself reaching for any sense of power that might help me turn the tide for those I care about.

“You do it so easily,” I whisper. Reaching up, I lay my hand over his forearm.

“What?” His voice is low and rough as he kisses the top of my hair.

“Possess the power to control desirable outcomes for yourself and the people around you. There are many people in this world who would kill for that kind of power. Who do kill for that kind of power. There was even a time when I considered selling my soul for it.”

Grayson is silent as I continue. “You tell me not to go through life desiring the very control you have in abundance. Do you know how desperately I wish I could protect Amara and Wells the way you’ve protected Harrick? It’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s the very reason I’m on your ship.”

“And you have seen only a fraction of how that power corrupts, Rowenya,” Grayson snaps, his nostrils flaring wide.

“There is blood on my hands. I have done things— unimaginable things—to protect the people I care about. To try to right the wrongs I have made in my lifetime.” The flecks of silver speckled in his irises burn brighter when he looks down at me.

“The power you seek is a heavy burden to bear. Do not forget that if you have the power to protect, that comes with the price of picking whom you protect. And not even I can protect everybody ,” he says, and for a few seconds, we stare silently at each other.

“You think it a gift, this power, but I would not wish it upon my greatest enemy, let alone the woman I . . . ”

He trails off and my heart skips a beat.

Was he just about to say that he loves me?

A feeling I have never known settles deep in my soul as I run a hand over his heaving chest, right above his heart.

Grayson’s eyes flick back and forth between mine. Searching.

There’s so much I want to say to him. So many questions that I want to ask. But I can see the wild desperation on his face. The longing for me to put an end to the one question that reflects in his eyes.

Taking a step back, I unbuckle the belt at my waist and let it fall to the ground.

And when I kneel, I keep my gaze trained on him as I unlace my boots and slide my feet out of them.

Rising slowly, I stand before him and move my fingertips to the edge of my pants.

When I move to pull them down, Grayson’s hands shoot out and grab mine, stopping me from moving them down any further.

“What are you doing?” he growls. “Any one of my men could come up from below deck and they’d see?—”

“As you said, they’re deep in the bottle. None of them are coming up for air anytime soon,” I whisper.

We stay still like that for a moment, hesitation sweeping across his face before he finally drops his hands away from mine.

Goosebumps rise along the skin of my legs when I bring my pants and undergarments down to my ankles and step away from the pooled fabric.

Grayson’s eyes darken as his gaze dips down to my bare flesh.

Extending his fingers out wide, I know he’s longing to touch me, but he stands there instead. Still and watching.

Another moment passes before I reach behind me and pull at the laces of my corset. Relief soars through my ribcage as the corset loosens, falling down to the ground. The edges of my lips quirk upward when Grayson sucks in a sharp breath the moment I lift my chemise over my head.

He trails me with his gaze as I step up to the railing. My long hair sweeps gently across my back when I look at him over my shoulder. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

Then I dive over the side of his ship into the murky depths below.

Warm water engulfs me like a welcoming blanket as I open my eyes to the surrounding darkness.

Salt burns them just for a moment as I peer up at the shimmering rays of moonlight casting through the water.

Bubbles rise with me as I swim toward the surface, and when my face crests, my lungs burn as I inhale deeply.

Grayson peers down at me from the ship and I notice his bandolier and shirt are already off. His golden brown skin is radiant in the moonlight and shades of silvery blue shine across the strands of his onyx hair.

“Magnificent,” I whisper to myself, feeling that ember of desire flare to life in my core. He’s the most beautiful male I’ve ever beheld.

Dangerous.

Cunning.

Powerful.

Mine .

Raising my hand from the water, I crook a finger and beckon him to jump in. His smile is a wicked display right before he dives in beside me.

Kicking my feet, I tread water and watch the expanding ripples, waiting for him to come up. One breath. Two. Three.

Nothing.

“Grayson?” A flurry of panic hits my chest as I scan the water, but it’s too dark to see anything below the surface.

“Hello, Little Pearl,” his rough voice sounds from behind me.

I spin around and there he is. Long wet locks frame his face as he shoots that same mischievous smile at me.

Silver ignites the flecks of stardust in his eyes, and despite the moonlight, they begin to glow just as they did in the caves at Emerald Cove.

As I take him in, something cracks open in my chest. A swell of emotions swarms me like a tidal wave I never saw coming.

What he said on the ship above . . .

What he had implied . . .

Grayson has claimed me as I have claimed him. He’s mine, for now. What the future holds for us, only time will tell.

But could this be more? Could this strange sensation swirling about in my chest mean that what I feel for Grayson is?—