Page 84 of A Curse of Salt

‘Yes, but . . .’ Not like this. I swallowed, glancing down at my freezing hands. Not when you’re in danger. ‘Going back there just doesn’t feel like freedom any more.’

‘You won’t go hungry again, if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Sebastien’s voice was almost unguarded again, almost warm. ‘I’ll give you food, clothes, gold. Whatever you need.’

I leaned into him with a sigh, letting his familiar smell wash over me, warm like sun-baked sand and salted as the breeze. Why? I wanted to cry. Why is this so easy for you?

He was offering me everything I’d wanted, ten weeks ago: a safeguard against the winter, a way to protect my family. A chance to save them. But given a real wish, and the chance to be selfish, we both knew what I’d ask for.

‘Don’t do this,’ I pleaded. ‘Not with me.’

His fingers gripped my chin and pulled my face slowly to his. He kissed me, fiercely – so hungrily that I almost believed he wanted it. Wanted me. And I melted into him, my eyes squeezed shut, desperate to cling to the moment a little while longer. But it was only a moment, and Sebastien tore himself away.

‘You’re killing me,’ he panted, his voice a broken whisper. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes full of anguish.

I traced the line of his stubbled jaw, trying to swallow the lump caught in my throat. ‘We’re already ruins, remember?’

He shook his head, brow creasing. ‘Not you, blackbird,’ he said. ‘Not yet. And I won’t be the one who destroys you.’

I stepped back, cold air cleaving between us. ‘Coward,’ I hissed, hating the way my eyes burned for him. I knew exactly what he was afraid of – knew he could taste it on my tongue. It scared me, too. ‘You can lie to yourself all you want but I don’t need protecting. Not from you.’

He looked away. I recoiled, hurt more by his silence than his excuses.

‘Fine,’ I bit out. ‘If you want me gone so badly, have a tender ready and I’ll leave tonight. Just know, I’d have fought for you. I’d have given myself over if it meant saving the crew. So don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.’

I turned on my heel and stormed from the deck, cursing every one of those cruel pirates and my foolish heart for letting them in. How naïve I?d been, to think that the Heartless King, whose destruction threatened the very bounds of my world, wouldn?t destroy me, too.

25

The dark sky loomed beyond the windows. Just that morning, it had been a different world entirely – one made bright by something more than the sun. Sebastien had been different, too. Tender, vulnerable. But with the daybreak, the harsh edges of what he was had crept back in.

I slipped his coat to the floor and stepped out of it, into the porcelain tub. Rose petals drifted across the hot water, thoughts swirling through my mind as my fingers traced lazily over the surface. I sank deeper into its warmth, watching the light dance across the ceiling.

It would be my last taste of luxury, one final indulgence before I returned to whatever life awaited me at the cottage. I tried not to imagine what I’d find; whether there would be any money left, any food. Anyone. We’d been getting by a month at a time, stringing out what little we had to last as long as possible . . . At least we’ll be able to face it together.

I rested my head back against the rim of the tub, limbs softening in the water. The roses that adorned the corners of the room were the colour of wine, their thorns gnarled and uninviting. I wasn’t sure when they’d begun to wither – whether anyone else had noticed.

I watched the water evaporate from my arms, steam pouring like shadows from my skin. Sadness tugged at the edges of my mind, but I resisted, refusing to think of everything I was on the brink of losing. If Sebastien wouldn’t fight for whatever this was, for what we’d found in each other, then he’d lose me.

I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat at the thought.

Countless lives already lined the sea floor, a blanket woven from corpses, stitched by the very hands that had set my body alight with desire. That I ached for, even now. He had to know it; had to see that I craved him as much as I ever had the sea.

But I’d served my purpose. I’d brought them Bane on a silver platter. Maybe that was all they’d ever wanted. Maybe this greater good Mors had spoken of really was just revenge and I’d tricked myself into believing it could all mean something more.

A ribbon of light unfurled from the doorway and he appeared, filling the threshold.

I watched Sebastien’s reflection in the window. His presence was like a shift in the wind, his looming silhouette growing as he neared. Even through his echo in the glass, I could see the way his gaze drank in the sight of me, stretched out beneath the water.

I turned around as he knelt by the bath, bringing his face level with mine. He rested his arm on the lip of the tub, the reflection of the water rippling in his eyes.

Steam coiled through the air between us as he reached into the bath and drew out my hand. I watched warily, my frown slipping when he turned my palm outwards and placed a kiss at its centre, so soft it reopened the ache in my chest – speared through it like an arrow. His eyes flickered up to mine and my stomach fluttered.

‘I can’t love you, blackbird,’ Sebastien said huskily. ‘Not the way you deserve.’

My heart clenched. Who had mentioned love? He was the Heartless King, he was . . . I’d known all along what he was. And yet, when he leaned in, my lips were there to meet his, my eyes closed in blind trust of him. Of his murderous hands and cruel tongue.

His kiss was painfully gentle. I curled my palm into a fist beneath the water, feeling the ghost of his lips against it, as if I could cling on to that snatch of affection. As if it could be enough. The ache in my chest grew and grew.

I sat up to face him properly, water trickling over my shoulders. ‘All I ever asked from you was the truth.’

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