Page 108 of Crossbones
Van sighs. “So we hope we don’t run aground in the Straights, get attacked by Kraken and avoid the potential fleet waiting for us—if we’re lucky we’ll make port before we all starve?”
When no one says anything to contradict him, Caspian gives him a humorless smile.
“Looks like you have the gist of it, mate.”
“Once we reach the mouth of the Straights, I want silence on deck at all times; no lanterns and all reflective surfaces covered,” I state. “No one is to have a spyglass up top—understand? No glass, no gold, nothing that could be seen from afar. If someone so much as sneezes on deck they’ll get a dagger in the throat.” I look around at all of them. “No excess noise, no splashing—I need this ship to be a ghost.”
Tensions ran high on the ship as we drew closer and closer to the reckoning waiting for us on the other side of the Straights. Everyone knew how high the stakes were and no one was very happy with the current odds of getting out unscathed. The stress took its toll on everyone and in consequence, I didn’t see much of Caspian. I spent most of my nights on the quarterdeck or pacing my cabin, going over every possible situation and outcome we could come into contact with between the Straights and Foxhollow.
I’m on the quarterdeck now and while I tell myself I’m not purposefully avoiding Caspian, I can’t deny I haven’t been seeking him out either. Therevelation that we are nearing the end of this journey together has put the reality of this thing between us front and center in my mind.
What am I supposed to do after this?Continue on with my vendetta to kill the King? Find a place to sit on my gold for the rest of my life? But how can I do that when it isn’t really about the gold anymore? In fact, I’m convinced it probably never was—because the only question I really care about is what does this mean for Caspian and I?
A very unsettling feeling has been popping up the last few times we’ve been together—a feeling in my chest that gets stronger each time he gives me that small smile I know is only for me. I’m afraid the reality is, if we part ways after this, he might just take a piece of me with him and I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.
So, I’ve been avoiding him. Because I don’t know what question I want to ask; is he going to leave? Or is he going to stay? And worse—I don’t know what my answer will be when he inevitably turns it back on me like he always does.
In a few hours we’ll enter the Straights. I’m leaning against the railing on the bow, looking out over the water. A brilliant sunset is happening on my right, all deep purples and blues with streaks of fire in between, and maybe that’s what distracted me because I don’t hear him come up next to me until it’s too late to run.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve just been trying to make sure we get out of this alive,” I grumble.
“You mean you haven’t been spending all this time daydreaming about how you’re going to spend all your money?”
I glance over to find him smirking at me, humor in his eyes.
“Trying to avoid thinking about that actually,” I admit.
For once, Caspian just nods and looks back out over the ocean.
“I don’t want to think about it either,” he says quietly.
We stand in silence until the sun dips below the horizon and the colors deepen, then he grabs my arm and pulls me away.
“How about we gonotthink about it together.”
CASPIAN
I drag Blackwell to his cabin. The minute the door shuts, I push him back against the door. He’s frowning—the same frown that’s been on his face since we sailed away from Grythmoor. I know he’s been avoiding me. I know why. If I’m being honest, maybe I’ve been avoiding him too.
My thumb presses on his lower lip, sliding the pad across his skin, memorizing every line of his face, the fullness of his lips—
“Stop looking at me like that.” His voice is nothing but a breath between us.
“Like what?” I’m still looking at his lips, tracing my thumb along his jawline.
“Don’t make me say it.”
I look up at his eyes, shimmering with all the questions I don’t have the answers to. I close the few inches between us, my lips brushing against his.
“Then show me,” I whisper.
I suck his bottom lip, tugging it between my teeth. His breath hitches and he shoves me backwards, gripping my shirt as he comes with me. There’s a flurry of clothing being ripped off, hands on warm skin and lips that don’t ever want to leave each other.
His tongue finds mine, the kiss deepening until I can’t breath—the tightness in my chest won’t let up, and when he pulls back and looks at me with those dark eyes full of my ruin, my heart lurches into my throat. The words are on the tip of my tongue. Words that confess my truths and bare my feelings.
Words that ask him to stay.
