“It’s called torture.” His thumb traced my lower lip. “Having you so close and not being able to touch you.”
Five months we’d been together, and still his words could make my heart race like we were in freefall. I’d never expected this—never imagined that my appointment as First Officer would lead to anything beyond professional advancement. But one late night reviewing battle plans had turned into shared whiskey in his quarters, which had turned into confessions, and then…
“I have something for you,” Eric said, reaching into his pocket. He produced a small silver band, simple but elegant.
My breath caught. “Eric…”
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He chuckled, taking my right hand and sliding the ring onto my finger. “Though perhaps someday. This is just a token. Something to remind you that no matter what happens, I’m yours and you’re mine.”
The metal felt cool against my skin, a perfect fit.
“You know why we can’t be open about this,” he continued, his expression growing serious. “The board would separate us immediately. Your career would suffer more than mine.”
“I know.” I twisted the ring on my finger. “I don’t mind the secrecy. Not if it means I get to serve with you.”
His smile returned. “Good. Because I need you, Max. Not just in my bed, but at my side. I trust you more than anyone.”
The words filled me with pride. Eric Cunningham, the rising star of the fleet, trustedme. Wantedme.
“We should get back,” he said reluctantly. “The cargo inspection is in an hour, and I need you to oversee the manifest verification.”
Reality crashed back like a cold wave. Duty called, and with it, the masks we wore.
I nodded. “Of course, Captain.”
His eyes softened at my formal tone. “Tonight, my quarters. I’ll have the galley prepare something special.”
“I’ll be there.”
With one last lingering look, he tugged twice on his harness, initiating his ascent. The mechanisms whirred as they pulled us upward. I followed his lead, letting my own line retract.
We landed side by side on the deck, the metal clips of our harnesses clicking as we detached from the safety lines. With a single nod, Eric strode toward the ladder that would take him to the bridge, every inch the commanding officer once more. Iwatched him go, fingers unconsciously twisting the new ring on my hand.
The cargo hold buzzed with activity as crewmen unloaded crates from the merchant vessel attached toThe Valiant. I stood at the entrance, clipboard in hand, checking off items as they passed.
“Twelve barrels of preserved fish,” Torres called out, marking each barrel with chalk.
I frowned. “The manifest says six.”
Torres shrugged. “Twelve came aboard, sir.”
I made another note, adding it to the growing list of discrepancies. Three crates of textiles were also missing from the paperwork, plus we’d noted double the expected shipment of medicinal herbs. Either the merchant’s record-keeping was abysmal, or something wasn’t right.
“Lieutenant Commander.” A voice at my elbow made me turn.
Sail master Jenkins stood at attention. “Captain requests your presence on the bridge, sir.”
“Now? We’re in the middle of inspection.”
“He was most insistent, sir.”
I sighed, handing the clipboard to Torres. “Finish the count. Note any further discrepancies.”
The bridge ofThe Valiantwas a marvel of engineering—a spacious command center with windows that offered a 180-degree view of the sky. Eric stood at the helm, deep in conversation with a man I didn’t recognize. The stranger wore expensive clothes in the latest Sunada fashion, his fingers adorned with gemstone rings.
Eric looked up as I entered. “Ah, Lieutenant Commander Blackwood. May I introduce Mr. Hadrian Wells, representative of the Merchant’s Guild.”
I saluted crisply, then extended my hand. “An honor, sir.”
