Page 90 of Of the Stars and Sea

The wide expanse of his chest rises and falls rapidly. I’ve never seen Grayson look this way before. He’s . . . flustered. His control is slipping.

Slowly, I move toward him again and his nostrils flare. But when I slide my hands up his chest, resting them above his heart, his breathing starts to grow steady.

“I feel as you do,” I whisper. “This burning desire that threatens to overpower me anytime I think of you. You have become . . .specialto me, Grayson.” Snaking my hand upward, I run my fingertips along the smooth skin of his neck and further still until they rest along the edge of his shadowed jaw. The short scruff of hair makes my skin tingle, shooting little sparks down my arm.

“But I am not a pretty bird to be caged.” His eyes flash at my words. “If I am truly yours, then you must let me be free. Free to do as I please. To stand at your side and not behind you—no matter how strong the urge to protect me becomes.”

He pinches the pearl in my hair between his thumb and forefinger and I see his mind working as he mulls over my words.

There is so much he does not know about me, and yet, I have never felt more seen every time he looks at me. What we havewas forged in darkness, but it was made of pure starlight. With every passing day, it has glowed brighter, becoming something beyond what I ever thought possible.

But he must know . . .

That light would turn ashen if he thinks of placing shackles around my heart.

Closing his eyes for a breath, Grayson breathes in deeply. “Forgive me, Rowenya.” He drops the pearl and tucks the lock of hair behind my ear, running his thumb along the cuff. “I find all sense of my control falling away when it comes to you.”

I smirk and he moves his thumb from my ear to the side of my face, where the ghost of my past is etched into my skin by three scars.

Grayson’s voice is low, hardly above a whisper when he says, “I can promise that I will never cage you. That I will never stand in the way of your desires or your freedom. But if I were to ever witness harm coming to you, Rowenya . . .” Those ocean blue eyes turn glacial as he peers down at me. “There is no force great enough to stop me from tearing apart this world and everyone who lives upon it to ensure no harm ever comes to you again.”

Chapter 22

Deep hollers and the sound of clashing metal wakes me from my slumber. Propping myself onto my elbows, I look around the room—Grayson’s room—to find him missing.

Settling back down, I lay my arm across my forehead, thinking of Grayson’s promise to destroy the world for the sake of seeking vengeance on my behalf. He can never know the truth behind the scars that mar my face for I fear he may do exactly as he promised—given that the man responsible still breathes.

But at least we were able to come to an agreement of sorts. I shall have my freedom, despite his instincts to shield me from any possible threat.

I could never live that way. Not when I have fought my entire life to be free of someone else who has bound me to a debt I’m not wholly sure is even of my father’s making.

After our conversation yesterday, we spent the rest of the early evening with Zaos, planning the route through Dead Man’s Passage from Grayson’s memory.

There are only a few routes through which theCaelestiais able to fit, given her size. The large rocks jutting from the ocean’s surface are not the only problem. Much like my learning of the great glaciers of the northern seas, the stone isles pepperedalong Dead Man’s Passage grow larger beneath the surface, making it difficult for a ship with a large hull to pass over without scraping the bottom. It will take more than experienced sailors and a strong ship to make it through the passage unscathed—we will need the wind and the currents andluckon our side as well.

Zaos is still only half convinced that the Solise Mountains are where we will find the treasure. He spent half the night arguing with Grayson about the riddle written on the Serpent’s Key and whether or not my translation was correct.

I told him I had half a mind to sew his mouth shut and tie him somewhere below deck so we wouldn’t have to listen to his unsavory doubts any longer. Much to my dismay, Grayson rebuked my idea.

So, I let the two of them argue it out while I drowned my own worries in half a bottle of rum before passing out in Grayson’s bed.

Looking over to my left, I see his side is undisturbed. The throng of pillows lay exactly where they were last night when I crawled under the duvet.

He must not have slept at all.

Through the paned windows, I see a line of shadowed men standing outside his quarters as another round of hollers sounds through the door.

“What in the hells is going on out there?” I throw the duvet off my legs and dress quickly before heading toward the door.

Thick, hot air hits my face as I open the door and stride out onto the main deck and nearly run into the back of one of Grayson’s men. Stopping myself just as the toes of my boots meet the backs of his, I stumble backward, but catch myself before I fall on my ass. I recognize the man as one of the main deck workers when he sneers at me over his shoulder. Once herealizes who I am, that scowl disappears and is replaced with a strangled smile.

“Sorry, Miss Rowenya. I thought you were one of the men trying to get a free shot in.”

His ruddy nose turns even more red as he shifts to the side, giving me a path forward.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I jut my hip out. “And you think they would start by kicking the backs of your boots?”

He shrugs. “I’ve seen a lot of tactics in my day. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone tried to take my feet right out from under me.”

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