Page 41 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

I can understand that. My eyes raise up to Hala’s moons.

“I was so desperate to come back.” My throat is dry. “To set my feet on Asterian soil. I wanted revenge, Callan. Part of me still does. And yet you ask this of me.”

He doesn’t get angry at my words, and his response holds no judgment. “Revenge would be easily done, if that is what you seek. All you have to do is nothing.”

They’re already dying. Hala’s punishment is greater than any I could have dreamed up. Our gods are cruel, and callous, and their justice is swift.

But they are also generous, and benevolent. Or they once were. I wonder if they could be again. If there might be a reason that Hala’s punishment has stretched out for so long, only for the noose to close as I found my way back home.

If perhaps my fate might be something different to what I had imagined.

My question spills into the air. “Are your people worth saving?”

Perhaps the question is not if I can save them, but whether I should even try.

Callan doesn’t rush to answer. “There are good people in Asteria. People who lived there before the Shift remain. Children who were born there and have no memories of what occurred. But the men who killed that day walk among them also.”

The metal men. I remember them well. And Callan, Merrick—all of them were part of that faceless army.

“Good people do good things. Desperate people do desperate things.” Callan’s voice is hollow. “But evil people do evil things, and you will find all in Asteria, Selene, in the same way that you would wherever you go. If it were down to me, I wouldn’t let you off the ship.”

My brows crease. “Why?”

He studies me, the wind pushing his hair back, away from his face.

“Petyr is desperate. He tries to continue the old Caelumnai traditions though there is little need for them, while at the same time turning his face away from the gods who did this to us. We have a dying stolen land, a forced military, people on the edge of starvation and revolt, and yet Petyr holds feasts every night and pretends all is well because he cannot bear the thought of failing a man who died ten years ago. He relies on the broken pieces of a royal court for advice, and at the same time he openly despises them for their gluttony and greed in the face of so much loss. I’m worried about how far he will go in his desire to prove himself as a stronger king than his father. ”

A knot forms in my stomach. “He is no stranger to you.”

It’s not a question. Not when he spills the intricacies of this Petyr’s soul in such detail.

“He’s my brother,” Callan says heavily. “Petyr is my brother. Half-brother, in truth, although I have never recognized the distinction. My father—in name, though not in truth—was the King of Boreas, Selene. He gave the order that day.”

Callan doesn’t hide from my gaze. He gives me the truth, not in broken words and fumbled sentences but steady, unflinching lines.

“And every time we have set sail since that maiden voyage, my brother has given me orders to find a faeyte. To find one who might have survived and bring her back to fix what we have broken.”

A punch would have hurt less. The truth does not hurt. But the lie —that cuts into my chest far deeper than any wraith ever could, even with its sharp claws and screams of agony. “You should have told me this.”

I have been fumbling along in the darkness, trying to make sense of who I am in this world that no longer belongs to me, and all along, there was a plan .

“It was not my intention to keep it from you.” Callan’s breathing turns ragged. “But I didn’t know that this would happen. I didn’t know that you would happen, Selene. Any of it.”

I am a means to an end. I don’t even blame him for it. “Were you the one who found me sneaking on board? Did you chain me in the storage room?”

Bronze eyes flash. “ No .”

Someone did. Someone who knew they needed a faeyte, and when they found me creeping around the ship, they ensured that I would remain here. It’s a reminder I needed—a reminder that despite it all, despite the small acts of kindness, these people are not mine.

He is not mine.

They do not need to be cruel to make me do what they want. It is true that honey catches far more flies than vinegar. And I have spent so long without any kindness, any kinship, that perhaps even the smallest amount felt like it could be something more than a manipulation.

Perhaps I wished to feel part of something bigger than myself again, to no longer feel quite so alone, and so I imagined a connection that did not exist.

He inhales. “Selene—,”

I twist, swinging my legs back over and placing my feet firmly on the deck once more. “You cannot choose your family. But you can choose the person you want to be.”

I steady myself. Tell myself that it does not matter.

“I’ll do what I can to help you. For those like Leo, and the others.

I am not so unreasonable that I would let this dictate what I know to be right .

For I was taught better than that, Callan.

And I would be insulted at the question on your lips, except it only proves that we do not know each other at all. ”

There is no point in feeling anything. I imagined a friendship that was not there, and now it is clear. But I don’t understand why my chest aches so badly.

I know my role now, at least. What they expect from me. “How long before we reach the ground?”

Callan jumps back over the railing, intent in every movement. I take a step back, but he follows. His jaw tightens, fists clenching. “Gods damn it, Selene, stop backing away from me.”

There are so many emotions battling for space inside my chest that I don’t know which to address first. Some of them I wouldn’t even know how to give voice to. My voice is cool. Distant. “I understand your reasons.”

“Stop saying that,” he snaps. “It’s self-sacrificing bullshit, Selene. Be angry at me for keeping it from you. Shout at me. But don’t turn away from me.”

“I don’t understand what you want from me!

” My voice raises then, high and trembling.

“You keep looking at me like that , and talking in riddles, and I do not understand you, Callan. You tell me there is a plan for me that I had no involvement in, and in the same breath scold me for agreeing to participate. What is it that you want ?”

“You just saved my life.” Bronze eyes glitter, swirl as he snarls the words.

He takes another step, closing the distance between us as we face each other on the deck of a ship in the midst of an endless night.

“I felt you. I had one foot inside Ellas, Selene, and you pulled me back. You don’t do that for someone you barely know. ”

“Interesting, since I’m apparently going to try to do it for thousands of people that I do not know at all.” I fight for air as his eyes threaten to steal whatever is left in my lungs.

His hands grip the tops of my arms. Not enough to hurt, but enough to hold me still, to stop me running. Callan leans in, close enough that I have to tilt my face up to his. Our breathing mingles.

His hands slide. From my arms, up. Past my shoulders, to my cheeks.

He cradles them carefully, as though he holds something precious.

“I dreamed of you,” he says roughly. “Every day and every night for ten damned years, Selene. And now you are here. Don’t tell me that this is a coincidence, you and I.”

“There is no you and I .” My heart stumbles, and cracks.

His eyes turn flat. Muted. “Say that again, and mean it this time. Explain to me why I cannot seem to breathe unless you’re close. Explain why we’re here now, when every event that has happened should have made it an impossibility.”

The rough pad of his thumb drags across my cheek, his voice lowering until it’s as though he’s sharing a secret. “Tell me why you still smell like my soap, when the pretty bar you brought with you sits unused beside the bed.”

Every word that leaves my lips seems to drag. I force them free, try to force him to listen. “I have known many men—,”

The low sound that rumbles in his throat makes my knees weak. “Do not equate me with them .”

I shake my head. “You see what you want to see, Callan. It’s happened to me before. I can’t… if you talk of emotions, of anything deeper than friendship, I don’t possess that capability.”

Even if up until this moment, I almost believe that I could.

Perhaps I have it wrong. The thought pricks at me, needles slipping beneath my skin.

“I don’t believe that.” Callan’s words are hoarse. “I know you think that’s the case, Selene. But I think you’re wrong.”

I’m almost numb as he takes my hand and presses it against my heart.

I know he can feel it, just as I can. “A heart that beats as strong as yours is endless with possibility. Nothing about you is cold, Selene Amaris. Nothing. Whatever Hala did to your sisters, it does not extend to you. You burn so brightly with your emotions that it lights up every soul around you.”

My head keeps shaking. “I don’t deny that we feel—but we don’t feel that . I know what you’re referencing, and it is impossible.”

“Do you?” I have the sensation of being trapped. Of arms closing around me, as he leans in. “Then tell me what I’m referencing, Selene. Because if you do recognize it, if you can name what it is that I’m speaking of, then that’s proof enough for me. The pounding of your heart is proof.”

He inhales, his nose brushing my hair, and his slow smile claims my shivers as a victory.

“The scent of me in your skin is proof. And the sheer number of stars in your eyes right now is proof, all of it. So I want you to explain to me what it is that I’m referencing , and then tell me I am wrong. It will only prove me right.”

My lips part. His hands are on my back, against my wings. His thumb strokes down the centre, directly over the sensitive membrane. “I cannot think like this.”

He is too close.

His groan is quiet. “And I cannot think when you are around me at all. Say it.”

“Callan!” The shout makes us both stiffen.

He doesn’t look away from me as he shouts back. “Whatever it is, hold it.”

Sol’s voice comes closer. “I’m very glad you’re alive, Cal, and clearly feeling yourself, but if you two could hold off on whatever in Ellas this is, for just a few damned minutes, there’s a ship that needs landing. We’re days overdue as it is.”

The skin around Callan’s eyes tightens as I shift. His fingers stop my chin as I attempt to twist away. “Wait. Please. This is important.”

“Not as important as that.” I’m drowning in him, in his words, in sensation that I cannot name as his thumb strokes down my wing once more. It becomes hard to form words, to think clearly. “Please. We cannot go from an argument to—whatever this is.”

His eyelids lower, becoming almost hooded. “In the future, I’ll make sure our arguments end differently.”

“Fine. Good.” My hands land on his chest, and I push him back. “Go.”

“You didn’t answer me.” He steps back, but his eyes still feel like a physical caress against my pebbled, overheated skin.

I keep my lips firmly closed.

“We both know you’re thinking it, Selene. This conversation isn’t done.” He turns, striding over to join Sol as his voice rises to carry out across Volatus . “Everyone hold on!”

He turns, watching until Esme joins me before turning away, and my breathing finally begins to steady. Salt fills my nose from the raging waves above us instead of Callan’s scent.

Rio slips in on my other side. “Did I just see—”

“No,” I blurt.

Esme hisses. “Shut up, Rio.”

I swallow. “There’s nothing to see.”

His brows fly up, hands raising in apology before Volatus lurches and he grabs the railing to steady himself. “Well, that seemed like a whole lot of nothing to me, if anybody asked.”

“Nobody asked,” Esme and I both snap the words in unison.

Rio only grins. “If you say so.”