Page 13 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

Chapter seven

Selene

T he boy left the lantern behind in his panic.

Sighing, I settle awkwardly back against my section of wall, lifting up one knee to rest my arm on and watching the flicker of the flame inside the glass as it dances back and forth.

I don’t have to wait long.

There is no quiet scurry this time. The door bangs open, crashing back against the wall. Despite myself, I flinch.

This is no child. The footsteps are heavier as they tread the wooden floorboards, slow but steady as my new visitor navigates the pathways.

Instincts war with inertia, and I keep my eyes on that flame, even as a large pair of boots step into view beside it.

They have chained me effectively enough that the only weapon I might deploy is my mouth. So I keep it closed, unwilling to show any form of hand so soon.

A deep, inhaled breath. And then words—deep and smooth, reverberating around me.

“ You ,” the male says quietly, “are not a wraith.”

His voice is even enough, the low timbre surprisingly not grating. Although after living with Boralas’s nasal tones for ten years, any change is a relief.

I consider my words carefully. “Would it be better if I were?”

My eyes lift from the flame. I blink away the lights left behind to dance in my vision, taking him in.

This is not a child.

This is a man. Broad of shoulders, tall enough that I’d likely need to look up at him, even with my own height.

The light of the lantern illuminates the sheen of golden skin, so deeply kissed by the sun that it almost shines , and I blink as I study it.

There’s a flush in his cheeks as he drops to his haunches, staying well beyond my reach as he examines me just as closely with blazing bronze eyes that almost match his hair, flecked with gold in the warm light.

His movements are graceful, almost feline as he rakes back strands of gold and brown that threaten to fall over his face. I drop my gaze to the weapon at his waist. A replica of the child’s wooden sword, but far sharper, I would wager.

I keep my words short. “Where am I?”

He rocks back slightly, the scar that bisects the right side of both his upper and lower lip vanishing as his lips press together before he responds. “How did you get onto my ship?”

So, this is his. I file the information away. “We both ask questions I assume you would be able to answer, not I.”

The faintest lines appear at the corner of his eyes at that. He’s young, for a captain. Not that I know enough about it to truly know. But I would have imagined one as older.

If I had to guess, I would place him as not much older than my twenty-six winters. Thirty, perhaps.

“You don’t know how you got here?” There’s skepticism in his eyes, and my hackles rise at the sight of it. “A little hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want.” The words come out vaguely snappish.

His lips twist upward. “I always thought faeytes were cold.”

I raise my hand. “Touch my skin, inritus. I assure you, I’m as cold as any other faeyte.”

His head tilts, his expression changing into something that makes my stomach churn. “Do you know any other faeytes? Perhaps I’ll find some lounging up in the galley? Asleep in the bays? Dancing across the deck?”

His words are light, a direct contrast with the shadows that dance over his expression. As if he knows something I do not.

My blink is slow. “I know many faeytes. How many do you know?”

Nyx. Celeste. Kamaria. Aylina. Deva.

Other faces. Other memories.

Maiden. Mother. Crone.

The longing is a sudden, vicious tug that hurts. They still dance across my mind’s eye.

The male sighs. “My name is Callan Edgeborn.”

We stare at each other in the lantern light.

“It would be polite to give yours in return,” he says calmly.

My heartbeat sounds again. Louder, this time. The name sits awkwardly on my tongue, as it always has. “Selene Amaris. You didn’t answer my question.”

I stare up at him as those shadows flicker again. When he speaks, his voice is heavy.

“There are no more faeytes, Selene Amaris. Not in Asteria, at least.”

The words threaten to buckle my defenses, to smash them, to scatter them to the ends of the world. “You’re wrong.”

The pity in his face only makes it hurt more. “For whatever reason, you are on my ship. Volatus returns to Asteria. I assure you, you’ll find no faeytes there. The Caelumnai wiped them out ten years ago.”

“Clearly not.” My words are icy. Emotionless. “For I am here.”

“Yes, you are.” His eyes sweep over me again. Assessing. “And you are the last, it seems.”

The last.

Gone.

All of them, gone to Ellas, to join Hala in the sky.

I knew it to be true. In my heart, I had known. But knowing and understanding are two very different things.

They’re gone.

And they left me behind.