Page 28 of The Garnet Daughter (The Viridian Priestess #3)

“Alright, with your other hand, press the buttons under the landing gear screens.”

I freeze. I know he just told me where those were, but every button is a blur of flashing lights now. All I can focus on is keeping my finger steady on the bar that is lifting us off the ground.

His warm fingertips brush down my arm until they gently wrap around my palm and guide my hand to the location of the next step.

“Right here,” he says calmly.

I press the first button, and even though I know where the other one is now, he still guides my hand, holding it by my wrist and only letting go when the second landing gear button is pushed.

“This is a lot to remember.”

“After a while, it becomes muscle memory. Your body knows what to do, what feels off.”

A mechanical crunching sound begins as the landing gear shuts itself into the belly of the ship. “What was that?”

“Normal.”

“Sounded different.”

“It didn’t.” He chuckles. “You are doing perfectly fine. Lift a little more.”

“We are going higher?” I panic and look out at the landscape in front of us, but nothing seems to have changed other than the spot August launched the drones from no longer being visible.

“We are barely off the ground.”

We ascend higher, the controls becoming a little harder to hold steady when I know we are just hanging in the air. I try not to shift on my feet, using muscles that aren’t necessary for the task, but I am so stiff I can’t stop.

August praises how well I am doing again, coaxing me to relax in a soft voice. The tenderness in his tone should ease my nerves, but instead it forces my spine straighter, a desperate attempt to not be distracted by it.

“Alright, let’s descend,” he finally says and leans forward to switch something to my left. “Go ahead and press the landing gear, better to have that out early.”

I push the buttons more confidently this time, solid ground calling me back.

“Mmm, good job.” He hums.

Suddenly, I’m grateful I am facing away from him, the flush I’m positive is on my cheeks hidden from his view at the tiny bit of praise. It’s nice to be in control of the ship. It is even nicer that he believes I am doing well.

“Fingers on top of that bar now, slow and steady, and push down. I will keep us level.”

I glance back, a little nervous again. I can feel how high we are, at least as tall as a Frithian tree. “Maybe you should take over.”

He is focused on his own controls. “Eyes forward.”

I press down a little too hard and he hisses, reminding me to go slow. I am not paying attention to any other button or out the windows the entire time, just focusing on the gradual pressure I am putting on this thing.

The wind around the ship kicks up as we get close to the ground, and a loud noise ripples through the entire floor. I jump when the landing gear makes an even louder sound and lose my composure. The added pressure makes the ship slam downward so hard on the sand, I tumble backward into August.

He catches me, cradling me in his lap as he leans forward and quickly presses the buttons I was likely supposed to, to finish the landing.

My heart is beating so fast, certain I’ve ruined something, but he is calm and unfazed, working on the command station with one hand and holding my hip firmly with the other.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

He grins on one side as he works, glancing at me for a fast moment. “Don’t be.” He exhales slowly like he fixed whatever I did and leans back in his chair.

“What was the noise?” I’m still a little too stunned to stand on sturdy legs.

“Landing gear.” He tilts his head to look at me with no intention of asking me to get off him.

“I don’t remember it being so loud.”

“You’re probably just more aware of everything.”

And he has no idea how right he is because I can feel every one of his fingers still placed on my hip, his strong hand splayed out and gripping me gently.

I shift a little because it is ridiculous to sit here in his lap any longer.

“We’re not done.” His hold on me tightens, pinning me against him. He points at the buttons on the data pad on his armrest with his free hand. “This one.”

I give him a flat look.

“You wanted to learn. Landing protocols have to be done.” He forces a sincere face.

I press the button next to his arm.

“What does the screen say?”

“100 xc. Twice.”

“Thank the three worlds. I thought for sure you broke it.” He feigns relief.

I smack his arm lightly to stop his teasing, not when I am this close to him and can feel how solid his chest is against me.

“You did well.”

“Thank you.”

A beeping sound comes from the station in front of us, a blinking red light flashing.

“How did you open the cargo hull?” He laughs a little and presses a code in the armrest, and then it ceases.

“I think I bumped into the side of it before I fell.” I do everything I can to not acknowledge I’m still sitting on his widely spread legs. But there isn’t even a speck of strangeness between us. It’s natural, comfortable.

“All shut now.” He nods and looks down, like he doesn’t want to point it out either.

“What does that one do?” I gesture to the large red button.

“That comms the entire ship for announcements.” He entices. “Go on.”

I press it.

“All crew. All crew.” He tilts toward it, his voice echoing in the rest of the ship.

For some reason, it makes me laugh, which only encourages him.

He feigns a serious face. “We have a pilot in training onboard, so be sure to strap in tightly.”

Without thinking, I lean in close and speak into the red button, my cheek pressed against the scruff on his. “All crew. All crew. So sorry about that.”

I barely get out my sentence before he throws his head back and barks a robust laugh. I join in a little, but mostly admire his masculine features contorted in joy and then try to ignore the bouncing motion we make as his laughter dies down.

“I don’t need a separate ship, August.” I pick at my nail bed, and when I am brave enough to look at him, he studies my face.

He reaches up and tucks an escaped curl behind my ear, and his fingertips send a chill across my skin. “That’s right, you said you didn’t want space.”

I nod because it’s the opposite. I want to be near him and that scares me. If we aren’t fully occupied by a task, the tension that’s growing like a diligent vine will slither in and remind me of things unspoken.

His gaze flicks to my lips and my insides twist tightly.

And just like I knew it would happen, he is looking at me again in the same way he did on Frith, after we spent the night pressed against each other, waiting to fold.

“Calliape, if you want me to back off . . .” He exhales like it is painful to think of that possibility, his steady heartbeat pounding so hard, I can feel it on my shoulder.

I touch his face, and he leans into my palm as if there is a current running through it.

The muscle of his jaw flexes under my caress and his hooded eyes flick to my mouth again, lingering there with a wistful edge.

It would take very little effort to lean forward and press into his full lips.

The thought of letting my treacherous body do so takes my breath from me in a thrilling gasp.

But it’s dangerous to get close to August in this way. I am supposed to be fixing the mistake I made and then going back to Frith, where I can’t hurt anyone else.

I felt horrible for leaving him behind to go into the birthlands, but my reasons were correct. He could get hurt and I would never forgive myself, and if we cross this line, I know his judgment will be even more clouded and he will do too much to protect me. He deserves better.

It’s not complicated. I’m too complicated.

“I’m sorry, August. I—” My hand slides off his face. “I can’t.”