Lili laughed. “Any celebration we have has to include your birthday.”
He waved a hand. “No, we don’t have to do that.”
Mettius shifted until he was turned as far in his seat as he could feasibly go. “I recall you making a huge deal out of the last one.”
A year ago, he’d expected a ship and a captaincy for his birthday. He’d been untouchable, the sea wide open before him. Cassia had been alive. He’d been cocky, foolish, with the world in his palm.
Now? He was sitting in his father’s shadow, watching everyone else take to the wind while he remained tethered to the wreckage.
Mettius placed a hand on his knee. “We celebrate the wins, son. This is one of them.”
Augustus smiled. Nodded.
This wasn’t a win.
These were chains.
The tavern reeked of spilled ale, and laughter filled the room all the way to the rafters. Augustus nursed a half-empty tankard, watching Lili dance with Roslyn, her cheeks flushed, hair unraveling from its braid.
An ache filled his chest—this was their last night together.
A shadow dropped onto the bench beside him.
Blaze shoved a fresh drink into his hand. “Don’t look so damned morose. You’ll sour the beer.”
Augustus snorted. “I was hoping you’d trip over your own boots and decide to stay.”
Blaze threw an arm across the bench, a grin flashing. “Boots like these were never meant to stay planted, brother. You knew that the day you met me.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The noise of the tavern swelled around them—tankards slamming, Lili’s laugh ringing like a bell.
A cheer went up across the room, and both turned.
Selene stood in the crush near the bar, Oskar leaning in to say something over the din. Firelight gilded her hair, her smile quick, unguarded.
Blaze elbowed Augustus in the ribs. “You’re a bastard, you know that? Cocky, reckless, impossible. But quite possibly the luckiest man alive.”
Augustus scowled, though warmth curled in his chest. “Lucky?”
Blaze tipped his chin toward the bar. “You’ve got a woman like that standing with you when the rest of us are chasing shadows. Don’t waste it.”
The tavern noise swelled again, and the music stumbled into a faster tune.
Blaze raised his drink in a mock toast. “Try not to die before I get back.”
“And you—try not to get eaten by another siren before you can brag about it.” Augustus clasped Blaze’s wrist hard, rough enough to bruise. “You’re family, Blažej Kašpar. Don’t you forget it.”
Blaze squeezed back, then released with a grin that was half-wicked, half-fond. “Save me a seat for when I come home.”
And just like that, Blaze was up again, swallowed by the crush of bodies and laughter.
Selene’s eyes found his across the room. A smile curled, soft and sure, before she tilted her head toward the door. Her fingers flicked in the faintest beckon.
The celebration roared on, but for Augustus, the only sound left was the thrum of his pulse as he pushed to his feet and followed her out.
The tavern’s roar dulled the moment the door closed behind them. He followed her down the slope toward the shore, her hair gleaming in the moonlight. The night air was cool and salt-sweet, the sand damp beneath their boots.
