Page 64 of Blood of the Stars

Breeve faltered. “I am carrying on his work. He died at sea when I was twelve. Aboard one of your father’s vessels.”

The image that came to Gaeren this time was fuzzier, faded with years and probably altered by the boy’s grief and adoration. He didn’t recognize the man, but then he would have been seventeen or eighteen when Breeve’s father had died. Still, he felt chastened. He should have known this about Breeve.

“Well, it’s an honor to have a second-generation sailor on my ship.”

Breeve stood a little taller. “Fourth generation, sir.”

Gaeren raised an eyebrow. “No wonder you climb the rigging like a spider.” He slapped Breeve on the back once more.

He moved on to Thallahan, who had passed his fiddle off to an older sailor. He smiled as easily as Breeve, but his burly physique and shaved head made Gaeren think he’d be more like Larkos in a few years. He even had a few tattoos on his arms, working up to a fine sailor’s collection.

As they watched the other sailors dancing, Thallahan’s memories of a woman were so vivid they left Gaeren yearning to meet her. It didn’t take much to get Thallahan talking about her, his mind recalling how they’d first met and where they liked to take walks. Gaeren pulled back on his starlock’s power when the memories became too private.

“She’s waited through three voyages for you?” Gaeren asked, stealing a glass of ale from on top of a barrel as they walked past. “Why haven’t you proposed already? Not many women are patient enough to deal with the comings and goings of a sailor.”

“I plan to.” It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but Gaeren thought Thallahan’s face might have turned a shade of pink. “You promised us enough this time around that her father should say yes.”

Thallahan’s words struck that same guilty nerve that Enla often hit. Gaeren paid his men well, far more than average, but he hadn’t realized it still wasn’t enough to guarantee supporting a family. He took a sip to hide his uncertainty over whether an apology or congratulations was in order.

“Must be nice to not have to worry about the father or the daughter saying no,” Thallahan said, elbowing Gaeren with a cheeky grin.

Gaeren choked on his ale before glancing at the closed door to his quarters. Lenda had made more appearances over the last day, but he doubted she’d come out for tonight’s revelry. A longing to sweep her in his arms for a dance flowed through him, and he frowned at the bond’s insistence.

“Or not,” Thallahan said, wincing. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

Gaeren felt their easiness slipping away as Thallahan rebuilt the wall dividing their stations. He didn’t want to lose the ground he’d made, especially not over his sour attitude toward his bondmate.

“Would it surprise you to know I envy your freedom?” Gaeren asked, tensing at his admission.

Thallahan’s gaze swung to Gaeren, his mouth slack. He quickly closed his lips, licking them nervously.

“Yes.” The word came out more like a question, a fear of saying the wrong thing. “Does this mean”—he lowered his voice conspiratorially—“that you really do wish to be bonded with Orra?”

Gaeren barked out a laugh.

“I guess that’s a no.” Thallahan’s shoulders drooped.

“Correct. Orra is more of a business partner. Like Larkos.” Gaeren took another sip. He could never break his bond, not after seeing it happen to Enla. But in some ways, wanting another woman made sense considering how much he resisted the bond. Instead, he was left wanting something he couldn’t have with a woman who likely didn’t exist.

Thallahan grunted his understanding. He would probably dispel the rumors later that night, and then what would the men have to speculate about?

“What’s it like to fall for a woman of your own will?” Gaeren’s gaze returned to the closed door as he mused out loud. “To know that she loves you, not because magic deems it so, but because her mind, soul, and body choose to?”

Thallahan didn’t say anything for a while, and Gaeren didn’t expect him to. They watched the men grow louder as they finished eating, more of them laughing and singing along with the fiddler.

“My pa once told me it was like earning his starlock.” Thallahan’s voice was so low Gaeren almost missed it. “He described it as a rush that left you equally empowered—invigorated by desire—and vulnerable. Deeply aware of your weaknesses. Except instead of growing used to it, growing into the feeling as you do when you learn to wield the source of magic”—he eyed the bulge beneath Gaeren’s shirt—“love makes you feel the same old fool every time you lay eyes on her.”

Gaeren let his eyes slide shut, the memory of his Awakening flooding through him. It had been his fifth time at sea with Starspeed and the worst storm he’d seen in his life. The boat had risen and fallen with every swell, filling faster than they’d been able to pump it out from the bilges. He hadn’t felt brave climbing the main mast to untangle the sails. He had known it could snap at any moment, and it would be the end of him. He’d been scared senseless.

But he’d done it anyway. He’d seen the sailors beneath him cheer, but the wind had taken away the sound of their voices, and then the next wave had taken him away from the ship. He still wasn’t sure how he’d survived the thrashing waves to wash ashore. But he would never forget the euphoria of waking with the silver teardrop squeezed so tightly in his palm that it drew blood. The grin that split his face from relief at having survived not just the storm but his Awakening. The warmth of the metal spreading through to his toes.

“At least, that’s what he said about my ma.”

Thallahan’s voice pulled Gaeren from the memory, forcing his eyes to open and refocus on the man beside him.

“And when I met Fay, I understood. I have to take his word for it when it comes to the starlock.” Thallahan’s voice was laced with a wistfulness. “Having never experienced an Awakening.”

Gaeren’s smile felt strained. “It’s a perfect description. And I’ll have to take your word for it when it comes to falling in love.” He couldn’t keep the same wistfulness from tainting his words. “Having never experienced it for myself.”

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