Page 19 of Starchaser
His smile threatens to break me—it twists itself into something wretched and small and utterly defenseless. Right now, in this moment, he looks nothing like a nightmare. He looks, instead, like a battered dream. A long-forgotten wish. An unanswered prayer.
“I am no hero, love.” His lips twitch, and the shift in his expression is so subtle I almost miss it, but I see it this time—see him switch, swapping the mask of the tragic pirate to the arrogant prince. “Besides, you made your feelings perfectly clear when, rather than accept that thegreat Captain Shadewasme, you dived headfirst into the ocean.”
I wince, but I don’t back down. “Perhaps I didn’t make my feelings clear enough.Youare a lying, manipulative, spoiled—”
He takes a step toward me, crowding me until the back of my knees hit the bed frame, his brow furrowed even as he flashes his teeth in a biting smile. “Go on.”
I shove against his chest, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall. “You’re the most confusing person I’ve ever met! One minute, you’re kind to me, and the next, I feel like—like I’m just some pawn for you to control. You make me feel important—you save my life—and then I find out it’s only because you plan to use my curse to your advantage!”
Just like Will, I think, but I don’t say the words out loud.
“And I hate that I can’t hate you,” I whisper. “As hard as I try, I just… can’t.”
He glances at my lips, his voice gruff. “You should.”
“I don’t.”
He grits his teeth. “Why are you making this so difficult for me?” His voice breaks, and he leans in, so close I can feel his warm breath on my face.
A shiver runs up my spine. “What do you mean?”
“You were never supposed to come here,” he says, his eyes drifting shut. “You were supposed to stay far, far away from the Eerie.”
“Why?” I ask, but I think I know the answer. After he saved me from theDeathwail, I was supposed to remain at sea, safe aboard my family’s ship, theLightbringer. I lift my hand, as if to touch his face. “Titus—”
Before my fingers can skim his cheek, his eyes go wide, and he jerks away, putting two feet of distance between us—distance that feels like a gaping chasm that’s just opened up to swallow me whole.
He sighs heavily, running his hands over his face. “You should get some sleep.” He turns his back to me, taking a crystal bottle from the small bar and pouring two fingers of amber liquid into a glass. He knocks it back in one gulp, pours another.
I want to argue, but at the very mention of sleep, my body yearns to curl up on this plush mattress and surrender to the obscene comfort that is Titus’s bed. As I slide under the covers, I watch him turn off the lamp and settle into his chair, having traded the glass for the bottle itself.
After a little while, when my eyes have adjusted to the dark, I look toward the foot of the bed, where Titus sits in his chair like a statue, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, the empty bottle clutched to his chest.
“Titus?”
“Yes, love?”
He sounds just as tired as I feel. Sleep overtakes me, but before I go under, I manage to whisper words I’m not sure he can hear.
“Thank you for the pajamas.”
It’s too dark.
And I’m falling again.
I claw at the emptiness of the void, trying to gain purchase, but there’s nothing to grab hold of—nothing solid I can cling to.
There’s just…
Nothing.
No stars. No light. Only me. Only darkness.
Until it isn’t.
A pair of glowing red eyes materializes in the void. Then another—and another, until hundreds of red eyes fill the darkness, watching me, waiting for me to hit the ground.
But there is no ground here. When I look down, all I see are teeth.
