Page 109 of Of the Stars and Sea

I open the lapel of my coat and pat the inside pocket. “Right here.”

“Good.” He nods. We stare at each other for a passing moment before his fingers grip my chin and he tilts my head back. Stepping into my space until I can feel my chest brush against his upper abdomen, Grayson takes his other hand and weaves it into my hair. “I have waited a thousand lifetimes for this. For you. Our story does not end here, Rowenya. Do you understand?”

A chill skates down my spine. He’s afraid. Afraid of what lies within those caves and what it might mean for our survival.

Reaching up, I grasp his wrist, letting his warmth seep into my palm. “This could never be our end, Grayson. We haven’t had enough time.”

Taking his hand away from my face, I kiss each knuckle. He shudders, then pulls me into him and kisses me. It’s a calamity. Two stars hurtling towards one another from across the heavens. We’re a mess of tongues and teeth as I stand on the tips of my toes, reaching my arms around the back of his neck to get closer.

A flush of heat passes through my entire body as he deepens the kiss. Slowing his movements, his tongue caresses mine, his fingers gently massage the back of my head, sending an array of tingling sensations all the way down to my toes.

When he pulls away, I’m left breathless and still wanting more. But time is waning and each second that passes is one more moment that brings Blythe closer.

Grayson places one final kiss to each corner of my mouth before taking my hand and guiding me through the door.

“How’re your hands?” I ask Collin as he secures the paddles inside the longboat.

He raises his palms. They’re raw, and blood lines the outer edges of where the skin was rubbed away, but they aren’t open anymore. Doc’s healing potion has worked quickly.

“They’ll heal up nicely, I think,” he says before cleaning away at some of the dried blood.

“That’s great.” I pat him on the shoulder.

“Miss Rowenya!” Tommy’s voice sounds from behind me. I spin around as he runs up to me, his shaggy hair bouncing into his eyes with each step.

“Tommy!” I smile at him. “Keep an eye on Zaos while we’re gone. You know he’s meant to cause trouble now and again.”

We both glance at Zaos, who’s looking even more grumpy than usual as he scowls at me.

Tommy gulps loudly and I laugh. “Don’t be afraid of him. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

I move out of Collin’s way as he works with a few other men to haul the longboat over the side of the ship.

“Miss Rowenya, I wanted to give you this.” I look down at Tommy’s open hand where an old, rusted dagger lays in his palm.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking it from him and eyeing the blade. For all its ruin, the blade still sits straight in the hilt. Running my finger along the edge, I wince when it cuts into my skin. A bead of blood pools on the tip of my finger. I wipe the crimson away on the side of my pants and look back up at him.

“It was the knife I fought with in the cages. I figured it must be lucky if it kept me alive during all those years. I want you to have it. For protection.” Tommy’s gaze skirts the top of my head, trailing upwards to the enormous ebony stone behind me.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes at his gesture. “Tommy, I . . .” Wiping away the stray tears with the back of my hand, I take in his sweet face. “Thank you. I hope I won’t have to use it, but in the case that I do, I know it’ll protect me.”

His smile is sweet. I lean in to hug him and have to stand on my tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek. When I pull back, his cheeks are stained red and he looks away. “Good luck, Miss Rowenya.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” I tell him before he disappears through the crowd of men surrounding us.

Sheathing his dagger in my belt, I feel Grayson come up behind me. His large arms wrap around my waist as he kisses the top of my hair. Spinning around, I have to blink against the bright sun that casts a halo around his striking face.

“I think you just made his entire life with that kiss,” he says with a chuckle.

“He gave me his dagger.” I try not to choke on the words. “For good luck.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“He is,” I agree.

Holding onto Grayson’s hand, I step over the side of theCaelestiaand settle on the middle bench, careful not to rock to either side. Grayson steps in with ease, sitting on the bench furthest to the back.

“Ready?” Collin asks us from above.