Page 24 of Of the Stars and Sea

Then I remember exactly who stands at my back and my body stiffens.

“You will learn that I stay true to my word, Little Pearl. No man is to cause you harm on this ship unless provoked. So, I suggest you try harder atnotprovoking them.” His embraceslackens and I’m left to stand on my own once again. His lingering scent wraps around me, muddying my senses.

I shake it off.

Turning around, I drop my dagger at my side, and face him.

Taking his finger beneath my chin, he tilts my head back. I feel the brush of my long hair sweep over the curve of my rear beneath my trousers. I try to shake off his hold, but he grips me firmly, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You have marked me as the villain in your story, so it is the role I shall play.” His voice is gruff as he chuckles quietly. “There may even be a part of me that enjoys it. Some part of me that enjoys the fight you so willingly give me.”

A storm rages across his face and I know there is truth to his words. A truth that buries itself deep inside of me—its claws latching onto some weary part of my soul.

“Sails to the west!”a voice bellows from somewhere on deck.

He drops his hold on my chin and turns his back to leave. I watch with a roaring need to both throw something at his face and chase after him.

I do neither. Standing exactly where he left me, I close my eyes for a moment and suck in a refreshing breath. When I open them again, Grayson is looking at me over his shoulder. He nods toward the bedside table. “Let me know if you discover anything new.” His intentions are clear. He wants me to uncover the secrets behind the Serpent’s Key—if there are any.

Then he leaves.

The door swings back and forth with the swell of the waves and that’s when I realize I was never locked in.

A villain he might be.

But so am I.

He should have locked the door.

Chapter 7

The hinges creak as the door continues to swing, never fully closing.

More shouts ring from outside. We’re either being pursued or Grayson is about to plunder another ship.

Grabbing my bloodied tunic off the bed, I grit my teeth and pull it over my head and slip my arms through. The fabric pulls at my stitches but I pay it no mind as I sheathe my dagger and head out the door.

Tommy is nowhere to be found as I make my way through Grayson’s quarters and open his door. A bright assault from the sun has me shielding my eyes. Blinking, they finally adjust and I see the crew organizing themselves for what appears to be an attack, given that the quartermaster is yelling at them to man the guns.

Warm wind licks through my untucked tunic as I move to the starboard side. There’s a medium-sized ship with limited gun ports. Squinting, I can see the black isn’t raised. It’s probably a merchant ship sailing west of the Narrow’s Passage on its way back from the Northern Realm. TheCaelestiawill catch up to her in no time. She’s hugging the sandy banks of the coast and the wind is in our favor.

Keeping to the side of the ship, I head toward the quarterdeck. The crew is more organized than most other I’ve seen, especially in a time of pursuit. Most of the men must be lifelong sailors with how readily they man their stations.

Taking the stairway up to the quarterdeck, the breeze grows stronger without the cover of the wood walls below. I’m greeted with a fowl look from Grayson’s quartermaster. I return it with a scowl of my own. Grayson is eyeing the distant ship with a spyglass and noting course adjustments to his helmsman below. My knees bend with the turn of the ship as the helmsman maneuvers us starboard side.

When Grayson lowers the spyglass, his gaze settles on me and he smirks. “You’ve decided to join us.”

“I like to see what I’m up against. The last thing I want is to die from some merchant ship’s cannon fire blasting a hole through my room. A room, I might add, that has no windows. I wouldn’t even see my death coming.”

“And that’s what you desire, Rowenya Stone? To see your death coming?” he asks, his voice low. Crow’s feet spread along the edge of his right eye as he closes it, and peers through the spyglass again. Satisfied with our course, he lowers it. “Most men would run from the chance to know their fate.”

I raise my chin. “I’m not a man.”

Those eyes rake me up and down. A blush stains my cheeks. I will it away to no avail.

“You most certainly are not.”

“Captain, it would better suit us if the captive stayed below deck once we near the prize,” his quartermaster says, not bothering to even look at me. He’s tall and slender. The perfect body of a skilled marksman, giving him the agility he needs to make a quick kill with his throwing knives. His blond hair is cropped short on the sides, with a sweeping wave of longer locksthat run down the middle of his head. At first glance, he looks perfectly normal. Quite handsome, even.

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