Her friend laughed. “You grew on me long ago, like ivy on the walls of the Tower.”
“Are you calling me clingy?” Eira grabbed drinks for them both and they wasted no time.
“You’d be lost without me.”
“I would be.” Eira took a long sip of her drink. Whatever they’d tapped into was cold and strong. Citrus flavored—tart and sweet at the same time. “You could stay here.” The moment Eira softly said the sentiment, she wished she hadn’t. Pushing Alyss was the worst idea and she knew it.
Partly because she already knew the answer, and making Alyss say it was worse.
“I could,” Alyss said softly, noncommittally. Even though the words were mild agreement, the tone said,No.
“I suppose it’d be hard to sell any books from an island of pirates. We don’t exactly have a lot of printing presses here for Yonlin to connect you with,” Eira agreed, offering Alyss an easy out. Then, in an effort to lighten the mood, “Though, I suppose I could kidnap some for you.”
That got a laugh from Alyss. “We’ll see.” It was a nice sentiment for Alyss to give, though, in her heart, Eira knew better.
She wanted to beg her to stay. To reconsider. And for all Alyss sounded noncommittal, Eira knew in her heart that it’d likely be best for her friend not to live the life of a pirate. That what they were doing now, for Alyss, was a “necessary evil.” And, if she put her selfishness aside, she didn’t want her friend to change. She wanted Alyss to retain her innocence and good nature. Eira just wished that to do that didn’t involve being around her less.
Yonlin approached, his focus solely on Alyss. “May I have a dance?”
Alyss made a show of considering the question. “I suppose one couldn’t hurt.” She took his offered hand and went back into the fray.
Eira lingered on the edge, situated among the ring of people that framed the dancers. The fiddler was still burning the strings of his instrument with wild fingers while a woman went red in the cheeks working a pan flute. Eira could recognize them, even if she drew blanks on their names. She knew who among the dancers were friends, family, couples, and who yearned to be more.
Everyone here was from theStormfrost. Familiar faces. Which made those absent stand out even more. Olivin was nowhere to be seen. Given their last interaction…she worried what it might mean for him not to be around. She’d need to find time to talk to him again and make sure everything was smoothed over. Eira hated the idea of being at odds with him over what felt like little more than a misunderstanding.
“Want another?” A warm-cheeked Cullen jolted her from her thoughts. He gestured toward her empty cup with his own.
“Oh, no. Thank you.” Eira stepped back and placed the cup on one of the long tables behind her. She had no doubt that these cups might be sitting for days or weeks, collecting rainwater as a washing. Doubtless, none of the pirates would care in the slightest. “I think I’ve had too much as it is.”
“You’re standing pretty tall and your words are even. I don’t think it was too much.” Cullen smirked. Barely perceptible was the faintest slur to his words. “Would you like to dance?”
“I just got off the floor.”
“Since when do you stop while you’re ahead?”
She laughed. Why did saying yes feel like a bad idea? But looking back, some of the worst decisions she’d made had ledher to the best outcomes. Everything she shouldn’t do became everything she’d wanted.
“Sure.”
Cullen downed his drink in one gulp, wincing. The spiced rum was not intended for quick consumption but more ideal for sipping, so she had little doubt it burned the entire way down. He placed his mug next to hers behind them and held out his hand.
“Shall we?”
Her fingers slid against his, curling to a firm clasp. He led her out among the pulsing movement and twirling bodies and they fell into step. She spun. His palm glided over her hip, pulling her close before pushing her away again for another spin.
A smile cracked her lips and her chest heaved. Their feet pounded in time with the rest like distant, rumbling thunder. It wasn’t slow, careful steps that would be found at a ball but barely controlled chaos. Eira nearly bumped into others several times…but the near collisions only widened her smile. Cullen beamed from ear to ear.
The next time he spun her, he pulled her close and a slight yelp of surprise escaped her.
“I should never have let you go that night,” he whispered into her ear, breathless.
“You shouldn’t have,” she agreed easily. “You should have taken me as your bride then and there.” Eira took advantage of his surprise to take a half step away. She appreciated how the shock slightly parted his lips and raised his brows. “I was young, and naive, and thought I was in love. I would’ve done it.”
“Thought?” Out of everything, that was what he focused on, his hazel eyes burning in the torchlight.
“I was in love,” she corrected. Denial was foolish when they both knew better. “As much as I could love, for what I knew and who I was.”
“Was?” One-word questions continued to be the assassins of the coy facade she wore.
