Page 23 of Of the Stars and Sea

“Are you trying to poison me?” I shove the cork back into the tube before extending it Doc.

“I just spent a long while cleaning your wound and sewing you up. Why would I waste all that hard work just to poison you?”

I scowl at him and he raises one bushy white eyebrow at me.

“I have no idea why you would do such a thing, but there’s no way I’m drinking . . . whatever that is.”

He sighs loudly before setting the vial next to the Serpent’s Key on the bedside table. “Suit yourself, but there is internal damage to your shoulder that I cannot repair with the other tools I currently have at my disposal.” He pats the side of his leather medical kit.“That”—he points to the vial—“is the only thing that will heal the torn muscles in your shoulder. And it’s costly. So, if you decide not to use it, come find me so I can save it for someone wiser.”

Rolling my eyes, I snort, but still refuse to reach for the vial.

Doc pauses for a moment, likely wondering if I’ll wizen up and do what he says. Once he realizes the depth of my stubbornness, he shakes his head before grabbing his bag and making his way for the door.

“Thank you,” I mumble before he opens it, not wanting to make a mortal enemy of the one man capable of saving lives on this ship.

“You can thank me by drinking that potion.” Then the door opens and closes and I’m left alone once again.

Unwilling to let the events of this past day drag me under, I rise from the bed and snag the Serpent’s Key off the table. Feeling a resurgence of that hunger for freedom, I move thegolden box over in my hands, assessing for any clues that might reveal where Thaeto’s treasure may be hidden. TheCaelestiawill make port soon for resupplies and Grayson will likely give his men a respite after the work they did the other night, plundering theSea Dragon.

If I can get a message to Amara and Wells about the Serpent’s Key clue, they may be able to intercept Grayson and take the treasure for themselves. A small reward for the grief this venture has already caused us.

Raising the box to the lantern light, I take note of the faint lines that run in various directions along all the sides. Digging my nail into one of the grooves, I try to see if there’s some way of opening it. With a flick of my nail against the metal, nothing comes loose. I try again and still nothing changes.

The door opens behind me again and I whirl around to see who it is, my right hand reaching for the dagger on my hip.

Grayson fills the doorway. The beat of my heart kicks up a notch as he moves into the space with feline grace that shouldn’t be achievable for someone his size. The long locks of his black hair frame his chiseled face and when amusement dances in his ocean blue eyes, I find myself wanting to laugh with him. But I stomp out that feeling immediately and stoke the flames of my hatred for him by letting the weight of the golden box feel heavy in my hand. It is because of him that my entire crew has lost their ticket to a life of freedom and I will not allow myself to be bewitched by Grayson Tyde and whatever games he intends on playing.

“Shouldn’t you be captaining your crew?” I ask, before setting the Serpent’s Key back on the table.

His full lips tilt upward. The scar on his cheek crinkles. “I have full faith in my crew and their ability to navigate our way home.”

Home. A chance for me to enact the first step of my plan.

“How do you like your accommodations?” The leather of his coat creaks as he settles his hands against the dresser and leans backward. Relaxed. Like he isn’t in a confined space with someone who would slit his throat if given the chance.

I shrug. “I’ve stayed in much finer places.”

His eyes narrow on me for a moment. “Careful. I don’t take kindly to the ungrateful.”

“AndIdon’t take kindly to being shoved in the corner of someone’s ship where I can’t see the light of day.”

Pushing off the dresser, the full force of Grayson Tyde strides toward me and I find myself taking a step back. His chest nearly touches mine and heat rises along my cheeks when I realize my tunic is still strewn across the bed. Nothing but the thin fabric of my undergarment hides the swell of my breasts. But he doesn’t pay them any mind. Instead, his gaze is heated as he stares directly into my eyes. “Have my men not treated you fairly? Has Tommy not shown you to a quiet and safe space? Has Doc not tended to your wounds?”

Grayson reaches out for the pearl in my hair and runs his fingers over it. I stare at his large hand, knowing how easily he could wrap it around my throat and end me. And maybe that’s why I can no longer keep the words in my mind at bay.

“I clearly possess something you need or my corpse would be lying on the cobblestones of Silvermoon Landing. Your niceties are nothing more than a façade. A pretty dream cloaked in wretched darkness. There will be a time when that darkness seeps in, revealing the truth of what game you’re playing.” I lean closer, rising slightly onto my toes so that I might close the distance between us just a little more. “I’ve lived and triumphed through nightmares you can’t even imagine. This one will be no different.”

I swear a bolt of lightning crashes through his stormy irises, the blues and whites swirl in defiance, and I try not to get lostin the alluring beauty of them. The danger that always seems to beckon me closer.

His head dips low. Goosebumps rise along my flesh and my hand grips the hilt of my dagger just as a loose strand of his hair tickles the side of my face. His breath is warm against the cuff of my ear when he speaks, “Such strong words from such a pretty little thing.”

Ripping my dagger from its sheath, I place the edge of the blade against the side of his throat. Snarling, I dig the point into his skin. A spot of blood beads before it trickles down the side of his neck. Grayson laughs. His voice gravelly and rich. It only grates my nerves more, so I whip my blade back and rush it forward, right at his stomach. But before my dagger cuts through the milky white of his tunic, the room spins around me and my back is pressed flush against his front.

Jolting forward with all my strength, I try to break free of his arms but find they only grow tighter around me. My shoulder screams at me from the pressure of his torturous embrace and I can’t help the harrowed groan that rips from my throat.

Grayson’s voice deepens as he says, “You should have drank the potion,” before he eases his hold and I find myself leaning into the firm pillar of his body. The pain is too great. My vision blurs from the sheer sharpness of it.

“And—trust—that he wasn’t trying—to poison me or put me into some kind of slumber?” My words are strangled, but Grayson stands steady at my back and some part of me enjoys the stability, feels comforted from someone else holding me up, even if it’s just for a moment.

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