Page 87 of Of the Stars and Sea

There’s a glint in his eyes that I notice before he clears his throat and turns away. That’s when I realize he’s probably never had someone tell him that they’re proud of him, that everything will be okay if he just continues to work hard and doesn’t give up on himself.

That is one of the things I’ve always been grateful to have received from my parents—their love and respect. But having grown up in The Pit with no one to look out for him, this might very well be the first time he’s ever heard someone say anything kind about the work he’s accomplished and will continue to accomplish.

“You’re welcome,” I say, letting my hand fall from his knee.

After a while, we both settle into a silent routine and there’s only a few potatoes left in the pile. My hands are sore from the effort and my lower back yells at me as I sit up straight on the stool to stretch out.

Someone opens the hatch door and a stream of bright sunlight spills into the kitchen, nearly blinding me. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I squint up at the intruder and the hairs on my arms rise when I see Grayson’s black boots descending the steps. Bathed in an orange halo of light, his bright blue eyes meet mine. My throat goes dry, but there’s no hint of the anger I felt when I first left his chambers. That doesn’t stop me from reaching for it, though, because Ishouldbe mad. And he doesn’t deserve to get off that easily. But the rage is too far away now, and when I feel that familiar flutter in my heart as he extends his hand toward me, I know I’ve lost.

I feel pathetic as I set the knife down and slip my hand into his. They’re rough and callused from the endless years of hard work he’s done and I wish for nothing more than to have themexplore every inch of my body so that I might feel the very power of what they’re capable of.

“Come with me.” His voice is low and gruff as I rise from the stool and try not to wince as my muscles awaken for the first time in hours.

Stopping at the bottom of the staircase, I turn around and say to Tommy, “You made my day brighter. Keep up the good work.”

He sits up a little taller and his gaze flicks up to Grayson for a moment, then back down to me. He nods and gives me a tight-lipped smile, but there’s a bright shine to his eyes that tells me all I need to know.

Then I turn back around and follow Grayson to his chambers.

The door snicks shut behind us right before I whirl on him and shove a finger into his chest, forcing that anger to rise, if only to ensure he doesn’t do this to me again. “You told me once we kissed that things would be different. That we would join together and there would be no more half-truths. No more lies! Did you only expect formeto uphold those expectations? Or does everything that’s happened between us mean nothing to you?”

My breaths come quick, and now that I’ve stoked the ember of my rage, I don’t find it as hard to feel the betrayal that stung hours ago.

Grayson reaches for the hand I poke him with, but I swat him away and step back. I don’t want him to touch me—to risk falling prey to what his touch does to me.

The wounded look on his face makes my chest tighten, but I refuse to give in.

“I—” He stops himself and bows his head.

The silence is deafening and I can’t stand that the only sound I hear is the roaring of my blood rushing in my ears.

“I told you about my father and his dealings with Red Beard. I told you how my father’s mistakes destroyed our family, and you?—”

“I was wrong!” he bellows, then strides toward me and takes my face between his hands. “I was so terribly wrong, Rowenya.”

Silver lines the rims of his eyes, making my heart crack a little more.

“I know that having your father’s reputation restored means the world to you. To know that he didn’t make thewrongdecision in getting himself entangled with an evil man, but that he was forced to do what was necessary to protect you—well, that would change everything. But the truth is that I don’t know if that was what happened.” He pauses, letting his words sink in, and I feel as though I’ve been punched in the gut. “Not with your father, at least. I didn’t want to give you false hope in thinking your father was forced to do the things he did when he may very well have done them of his own volition.”

My entire body aches from his words. Each one is like a tiny cut stricken across my skin. Each one is a reminder of my past and just how afraid I’ve become because of it. Afraid for how I might be seen for the things I’ve done. For the things I’vehadto do in order to survive.

“You should have told me. From the moment you made that vow, you should have been honest, if that is what you wanted from me. But you weren’t and now . . .” I try to look away, but he keeps my face firmly between his hands. And when he runs his thumb along my cheek, my eyes flutter from the sensation. The longing to just let go of this fight and let everything be okay nags at me.

But I can’t.

Not when trust is the most important thing our kind has to offer . . . and receive.

Right now, that bond has been broken between us. Shattered before it even had the time to gain strength.

“Now I know the wrong, I have to make right. And I will spend every day making sure it is done. Making sure that you believe in me—in us.”

I let out a shuddering breath and when I try to step away from him this time, he lets me. The absence of his warm skin against mine is a cruel thing, but I can’t think straight when he’s that close. Hells, I can hardly think straight when he’s just in the room with me.

Grayson stands still as stone, but I know he watches me as I pace back and forth in front of his large mahogany desk, sifting through my thoughts until I finally stop and bury my face in my hands as a storm of conflicting emotions barrel through me.

“Rowenya,” Grayson breathes. The sound of my name on his lips is tortured and broken. When I look at him, his hands flex at his sides, like he’s doing everything in his power not to reach out for me again. “Rowenya, you must know that it was only my intention to protect you. Not to keep secrets from you.” His head lowers and his dark locks fall around his face. When he looks back up at me, the devastation written across his face shatters my resolve. “I see now how wrong that was.”

He takes one step toward me. Then another. He moves slowly, like I’m some wild animal that might flee at any given moment. When he finally reaches out to palm the side of my cheek, I don’t run away. I let the searing touch of his skin against mine ground me as I bring my hand up and rest it over his. The column of his throat moves as he swallows and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so . . .fragile.

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