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When Brashen was finished, she dismissed her sailors to food and sleep or whatever other amusement they could find.

Her anger had killed her appetite. She went directly to her stateroom, wishing it were truly her own rather than a tiny space shared with two others.

For once, it was empty. Jek would be eating and Amber was probably with Paragon already.

She knew a moment of guilt that she avoided the figurehead.

Then she centred herself in her anger and decided it was for the best. She had removed not only Brashen from her softer emotions, but also the ship and Amber.

It was simpler so, and better. She could function most efficiently as a mate when she let no personal considerations stand between her and her tasks.

Sleep, she decided, was what she needed.

She had pulled her rain-damped shirt out of her trousers and started to drag it over her head when there was a rap at the door.

She hissed in annoyance. ‘What is it?’ she demanded through the wood.

Clef’s voice said something quietly outside the door.

She pulled her shirt back on, snatched the door open and demanded, ‘What?’

Clef took two steps back. ‘Cap’n wants to see you,’ he blurted. His startled face was a dash of cold reality. She took a breath and smoothed her features.

‘Thank you,’ she said brusquely, and shut the door again.

Why couldn’t Brashen have taken care of whatever it was when she was mustered on deck with the others?

Why did he have to cut into what little privacy and sleep she could find?

She stuffed her shirttail back into her trousers and slammed out of the room.

‘Enter!’ Brashen called in response to the thudding on his door. He looked up from his charts, expecting Lavoy or one of his sailors with important news. Instead, Althea entered and strode up to stand before him.

‘You sent Clef for me, sir.’

His heart sank in him. ‘I did,’ he acknowledged and then could find no words. After a moment, ‘Sit down,’ he invited her, but she took the chair stiffly as if he had ordered it. She sat, meeting his eyes with an unflinching gaze. Captain Ephron Vestrit had always been able to stare him down.

‘When your father looked at me like that, I knew I was in for a private reprimand that would leave my ears smoking.’

At the shocked look on her face, he realized he had spoken the words aloud.

He was horrified, yet fought a wild impulse to laugh at her expression.

He leaned back in his chair and managed to keep his face composed and his voice level as he added, ‘So why don’t you just say it and we’ll be done with it? ’

She glared at him. He could see the pressure building in her.

His invitation was too much for her to resist. He braced himself as she took a deep breath as if she would roar at him.

Then, surprisingly, she let it out. In a quiet controlled voice that still shook slightly, she said, ‘That’s not my place, sir. ’

‘Sir.’ She was keeping it formal, yet her tension vibrated through him.

He deliberately nudged at it, determined to clear the air between them.

‘I believe I just gave you permission. Something is troubling you. What is it?’ At her continued silence, he found his own temper rising. ‘Speak!’ he snapped at her.

‘Very well, sir.’ She bit off the words, her black eyes flashing. ‘I find it difficult to perform my duties when my captain obviously has no respect for me. You humiliate me in front of the crew, and then expect me to keep my watch in order. It isn’t right and it isn’t fair.’

‘What?’ he demanded, outraged. How could she say such things, after he had taken her on as a working mate, entrusted his private plans to her, even consulted with her on what was best for the vessel? ‘When have I ever “humiliated you in front of the crew”?’

‘During the battle,’ she grated out. ‘I was doing my best to repel boarders. You not only stepped in and took the task from me, but also said to me, “Get back. Stay safe.”’ Her voice was rising with her anger.

‘As if I were a child you must shelter. As if I were less competent than Clef, who you kept by your side.’

‘I did not!’ he defended himself. Then he halted his words at the flare of fury on her face. ‘Did I?’

‘You did,’ she said coldly. ‘Ask Clef. I’m sure he remembers.’

He was silent. He could not recall saying such words, but he did recall the lurch of fear in his heart at the sight of Althea in the midst of the fighting.

Had he said such a thing? His heart sank with guilt.

In the heat of battle and the chill of fear…

probably, he had. He imagined the affront to her pride, and her confidence.

How could he say such a thing to her in the midst of a fight, and expect her to keep her self respect?

He deserved her anger. He moistened his lips.

‘I suppose I did. If you say I did, I know I did. It was wrong. I’m sorry. ’

He looked up at her. His apology had shocked her.

Her eyes were very wide. He could have fallen into their depths.

He gave a small shake of his head and a smaller shrug.

She continued simply to look at him, silently.

The simple sincerity of his apology had cracked his restraint with her.

He struggled desperately to retain his control.

‘I have great faith in you, Althea. You’ve stood beside me and we’ve faced crimpers and serpents…

We put this damn ship back in the water together.

But during the battle, I just…’ His voice tightened in his throat.

‘I can’t do this,’ he said suddenly. He lay his hands, palms up, on the table and studied them. ‘I can’t go on like this any more.’

‘What?’ She spoke slowly, as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.

He surged to his feet and leaned over the table. ‘I can’t go on pretending I don’t love you. I can’t pretend it doesn’t scare me spitless to see you in danger.’

She shot to her feet as if he had threatened her.

She turned from him but two strides carried him to stand between her and the door.

She stood like a doe at bay. ‘At least hear me out,’ he begged.

The words rushed out of him. He wouldn’t consider how stupid they would sound to her, or that he could never call them back again.

‘You say you can’t perform your duties without my respect.

Don’t you know the same is true for me? Damn it, a man has to see himself reflected somewhere to be sure he is real.

I see myself in your face, in how your eyes follow me when I’m handling something well, in how you grin at me when I’ve done something stupid but managed to make it come out all right anyway. When you take that away from me, when…’

She just stood there, shocked and staring.

His heart sank. His words came out as a plea.

‘Althea, I am so damn lonely. Worst is to know that whether we fail or succeed, I still lose you. Knowing that you are, every day, here on the same ship with me, and I cannot so much as share a meal with you, let alone touch your hand, is torment enough. When you will not look at me or speak to me…I can’t go on with this coldness between us. I can’t.’

Althea’s cheeks were very pink. Her rain-soaked hair was just beginning to dry, pulling out of her queue in curling tendrils that framed her face.

For an instant, he had to close his eyes against the sweet pain of wanting her.

Her words broke through to him. ‘One of us has to be sensible.’ Her voice was very tight.

She was standing right in front of him, not even an arm’s length away.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if she feared she might fly apart.

‘Let me pass, Brashen.’ Her voice was a whisper.

He couldn’t. ‘Just … let me hold you. Just for a moment, and then I’ll let you go,’ he pleaded, knowing he lied.

He was lying and they both knew it. Just for a moment would never be enough for either of them.

Her breath was coming hard, and when his callused palm touched her jaw, she was suddenly dizzied.

She reached out a hand to his chest, just to steady herself, perhaps even to push him away, that was all, she would not be so stupid as to allow this, but his flesh was warm through his shirt and she could feel his heart beating.

Her traitor hand clutched the fabric and pulled him closer.

He stumbled forwards and then his arms were around her, holding her so tightly she could scarcely breathe.

For a time, they did not move. Then he sighed out suddenly as if a pain had eased in him.

He spoke softly, ‘Oh, Althea. Why must it always be so complicated for us?’

His breath was warm against the top of her head as he kissed her hair gently. Suddenly, it all seemed very simple to her. When he bent to kiss her ear and the side of her neck, she turned her mouth to meet his and closed her eyes. Let it happen, then.

She felt him tug her shirt loose from her trousers.

The skin of his hands was rough but his touch was gentle as his hands slid up under her shirt.

One hand cupped her breast, then teased the tautness of her nipple.

She could not move, and then she could. Her hands found his hips and snugged him against her.

He broke the kiss. ‘Wait,’ he cautioned her. He took a breath. ‘Stop.’

He had come to his senses. She reeled with disappointment as he turned away from her.

He walked to the door. With shaking hands, he bolted it.

Returning, he caught up her hand. He kissed the palm of it, let it go and then stood silently, looking down on her.

For an instant, she closed her eyes. He waited.

She decided. She took his hands in both of hers and drew him gently towards his bed.

Amber was speaking gravely and slowly. ‘I don’t think you fully understood what you did.

That is why I can forgive you. But this is the only time.

Paragon, you have to learn what it means to a man to die.

I don’t think you grasp the finality of what you did.

’ The storm wind buffeted her but she clung to his railing and waited for a reply.

He tried to think of something to say that would make her happy.

He didn’t want Amber to be sad at him. Her sadness, when she let him feel it, went deeper than any human’s. It was almost as grievous as his own.

Paragon turned all his senses inward, seeking.

Something was happening. Something dangerous, something frightening.

He had known this before, and he braced himself for the wrenching agony and shame of it.

When humans came together like that, it always meant pain for the weaker one.

What had made Brashen so angry with her?

Why was she allowing it, why wasn’t she fighting him?

Was she so frightened of him she could not resist?

‘Paragon. Are you listening to me?’

‘No.’ He drew a small breath through his open mouth. He didn’t understand this. He had thought he knew what this meant. If Brashen did not mean to punish her, if he was not trying to master her with pain, then why was he doing this? Why was Althea allowing it?

‘Paragon?’

‘Shh.’ He clenched his hands into fists and held them tight to his chest. He would not scream.

He would not. Amber was talking at him but he closed off his ears and tuned his other senses.

This was not what he had thought it was.

He had thought he understood humans and how they hurt one another, but this was different.

This was something else. Something he could almost recall.

Timidly, he shut the eyes he no longer had.

He let his thoughts float, and felt ancient memories soar in him.

Althea held Brashen close to her and felt his heart thundering in his chest. He gasped for breath beside the side of her neck.

His hair was across her face. Her fingers gently walked the long ridge of the scarcely-healed sword slash down his ribs.

Then she set her hand flat to it, as if she could mend it with a touch.

She sighed. He smelled good, like the sea and the ship and himself.

When she held him, she held all those things within her.

‘Almost,’ she breathed softly. ‘Almost, I thought we were flying.’