Aesira stepped forward, moving around Stone blocking the walkway. “My sister may have faith in you, but–”
“I’m offended, Commander,” he said. “I thought I’d earned your respect.” A few Boneyard workers shuffled past, carrying crates and heavy ropes.
“If you try anything,” Aesira said, “I won’t hesitate to enforce the power I’ve been given.” She glanced down at the sword at her hip and the restraints on the opposite side.
“Fair enough.” Stone shrugged. “But I’ll remind you, that while the idea of being tied up by you is tempting, I’m afraid I’ll need both of my hands to do my job well. Now, make yourself useful and grab that crate.” He nodded to a stack nearby.
“I don’t take orders from Odegas.”
Stone smiled, crossing his arms across his chest. “We’ll see about that.”
Heat bloomed over Aesira’s neck and cheeks and despite how hard she tried, the memories of the first night she met Stone at The Phoenix came rushing back. Hands and skin. Tongues and teeth.
“Listen,” Stone said, his tone softening. Maybe he was also remembering that night, which only made Aesira’s fevered skin scorch hotter. “You’re a commander and I respect that. But we don’t know what lies beyond the Outpost. All I know is we’ll see things.” He stepped closer. “Hear things.” Another step until it was just the width of the crate between them. “Feel things we can’texplain.” He’d dropped his voice and in a place that was so loud, she found it confusing that all she could hear was him. “The things that dwell in the desert only have one goal and that is to kill you or drive you mad enough to do it yourself. So, unless you have a death wish, I’d suggest taking some of your sister's faith and instilling it in me and my crew. I’m not after anything other than what I was promised.”
At some point when he was talking, he’d handed the crate to a passerby. Or maybe he set it down? Aesira wasn’t sure but what she was absolutely sure of, was how close he was standing to her now. Close enough that she could feel the heat from his body mixing with hers. She took a step back.
“What kind of things?” She’d grown up in Novaria alongside her siblings in a comfortable, albeit small, kingdom in the east. Aside from her training with the knights and her travels to Vargah, she hadn’t seen much else of the world.
“Things not even your nightmares could imagine.”
She picked up a lone crate and followed behind him. Aesira wasn’t afraid of Stone’s promise of deadly and terrifying things. He had no idea the types of nightmares she had or even worse, the things she’d witnessed when she was awake. But she was curious and she made her sister a promise. Find Desmond. Bring him home. So with every instinct not to trust Stone gnawing at her, she stamped them down. “Fine,” she said. “We both agree to find the king and nothing more.”
“Nothing more.” He smiled again before turning and heading straight into the belly of the ship.
Six
Stone
It wasn’t necessarily the Commander’s presence on the ship that bothered Stone, but more so what she stood for. A reminder of who he’d made a deal with.
The royal crown of Vargah.
News would spread to the Outpost that he was a sellout. Working for the very people they’d resented their entire lives. Royals. Living in excess, bathing inastraand water like it was luxury. As if people didn’t die for the goddess they worshiped. Weren’t slaughtered on stage while a crowd cheered.
Stone picked up the last of the rations and made his way below deck, setting it on a counter to sort through later. Aesira had gotten distracted by her knight, Stone hadn’t caught her name, and he wasgrateful for a few minutes alone without her breathing down his neck.
“Stoney.”
So much for a moment alone.
He fucking hated that nickname, but considering Birdie was the only one who used it, he let it slide. She set down a matching crate on the counter and crossed her arms.
“Provisions?” He nodded at her crate. Her dark eyes narrowed as she swept a lock of silky blonde hair away from her hollowed cheeks.
“Yes,” she said. “The queen was generous.” She plucked an overripe plum from the crate and juggled it between her hands. “She’ll be disappointed to find out this all goes to waste considering the likelihood we live long enough to eat it.”
Stone leaned against the wooden counter. He knew out of the crew, Birdie would be the most difficult to convince of his plan. But that’s why he loved her. She was sharp, lethal, and the only one who called him on his shit.
“I told you last night, the amount she offered to pay us will change everything, Bird,” he said. She tossed the fruit again, but he snatched it from the air before she could catch it and took a bite. “Look how much it’s already changed, you’re out aren’t you?”
A smirk tilted up her thin lips. “You should have consulted usfirst,” she said. “We always have a choice, remember?” He froze mid-bite, the soft flesh of the fruit sweet on his tongue. He hadn’t expected her to use his own words against him. He chewed slowly, buying himself time.
Of course they always had a choice. He made sure of it, especially after their days of smuggling came to an abrupt halt. Growing upwithout a say in how they chose to live their lives, who they worked for. That was the one thing he swore to do differently when they got out of the Outpost. Out from under Vic’s pressing thumb.
“Cut him some slack.”
Salvation had a name and it was Bee Odega. Bee shot Stone a wink before she wrapped her arms around Birdie, tugging her close.
