Page 37 of The Garnet Daughter (The Viridian Priestess #3)

I don’t know which part of his words to focus on, the way my name sounded as he laughed in that deep, throaty way when he thinks it is ridiculous but loves it, or the second part, where he emphasized the words in a way that tells me he means a specific thing.

I busy myself with cleaning the sand from under my fingernails instead, and a comfortable silence falls between us again, so much that I forget we are both nude.

“We could go home right now. Get dressed and fold right back into the ship’s mess hall. What do ya say?” His voice is so close now, I’m surprised I don’t feel his back pressed against mine.

I want to remind him of what happened in the ritual, who was hurt. How I have yet to confess to the people I love most the monster didn’t just escape, that I let it out. There are many mistakes I am trying to balance out, and I don’t have the luxury of giving up now.

But he is here with me, helping and trying to keep my spirits up for what comes next. I know he is joking, but the twist of guilt in my stomach manifests into a frustration that he doesn’t deserve. So instead, and maybe even for once, I lean into it.

“I’m happy to take you back. Realizing you actually have to climb this time?” I tease.

He snorts, and I don’t even want to admit how much that stupid sound affects me.

But then what I assume is going to be more teasing and distraction from the danger we face turns into seriousness I was fully ready to avoid in favor of flirting with him more.

“Last night, when we were talking about the plan.” His voice is monotone and unsure.

He is hesitant, but I don’t think it’s from the memory of Sav dying in front of us.

“Just please don’t offer to bargain with it, alright?

Don’t take it to the space between, Calliape, or the moon or wherever the fuck these things are from.

Don’t do something heroic that will get you killed. ”

It’s not what I expected him to say, well, half of it at least.

“I’m trying to avoid death, I assure you.”

“Good.”

“Folding is one of the only things I have to offer though.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not true.” His voice is deadly serious.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“August.”

He doesn’t answer. He wants me to promise I won’t do anything to stop this creature from balancing scales the priestess order tilted.

But if I can stop hundreds from being killed, including someone I love, I’m not sure there is something I wouldn’t do.

Ferren would do the same for me, so would 99, and so would he.

“August?” I say softer.

“We still have to finish your flying lessons, and after the conjunction, you can go and be wherever you want, any world with or without anyone.”

Oh.

Is that what he thinks? That I’m ok getting myself killed because I have no one tying me to this life, or that I could easily leave because I don’t want to be with him?

Of course he thinks that. Every time he has been honest about his feelings, I have retreated.

Even after I kissed him and liked it, I still couldn’t face that reality when he brought it up.

“It’s not about . . . I want to finish our flying lesson.

” It’s impossible to explain, to skirt around the details and yet still make sure he knows what I am referring to.

I take a big inhale and wipe my eyes with the crisp water to compose myself.

The least I can do is tell him how I’m feeling, and maybe he will understand instead of taking my vagueness as disinterest.

“You know how we said we would wait until after the conjunction to . . . talk?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly.

“Can I say something about it now?”

“Anything.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. But I think you deserve better.”

“Alright, anything but that,” he teases, but I know he’s serious.

“I—Too many things keep happening, a lot of them my fault. Doesn’t it seem foolish to be distracted by . . . it?” My words come out all wrong.

“Things are always happening or going terribly. But—” His tone changes so abruptly, a chill runs over every part of my skin exposed to the air. “If you were mine, we could face it all together, comfort each other better than we can now.”

“August . . .” I can feel my eyes almost drop out of their sockets. His voice is clearer, like he has turned toward me.

“Deeper. Without having to hold back. Without the wall you put between us.” His fingertips graze my shoulder, sliding a water-drenched strand of hair into place. “And I have put very little thought into what I deserve, only what I want.”

I stare at the shoreline, dumbfounded. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak like this.

I have definitely never heard his voice sound like that before.

If this were my first impression of him, I would never guess he had a lighthearted side, only this low baritone version that is making my heart pound so hard it’s likely making more ripples in the surface than the waterfall.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” he says so close, I swear it’s right in my ear. If I leaned backward, would I feel his chest against me?

“No,” I reply meekly. “I, um, think that covers it.”

This is not how I expected this conversation was going to go.

“Good.” He sounds pleased with himself at my reaction.

And then the current around me churns in small rapids, sloshing against my shoulders from quick movement.

He stands without announcing his departure and walks to the shoreline.

His corded back flexes and the sheen from the water highlights everything in annoying detail.

The water level gets lower and lower on him until his perfectly sculpted backside is visible.

I yelp and turn toward the cliffside, but my eyes move on their own, locking onto his glistening form and betraying me.

He smirks over his shoulder. “You said you wanted privacy, not me.”