“Keep an eye out,” I said to Destin and he nodded, excusing himself as she began to approach.
When the witch reached me, the smile on her face disappeared slowly. It made my shoulders tighten. Why didn’t she smile around me? Did I scare her, just as I scared everyone else?
“Were you talking to someone?” she asked.
I hesitated, and her cheeks colored. “You’re most welcome to dance with any of the women here if you’d like, Alaric. I think I’m going to walk home now though.”
I didn’t want to dance with any of the women here.
Just her.
“Let’s dance,” I said, not thinking, and she blushed again.
“I don’t dance. I mean… I haven’t danced in years.”
“Good.” I took her hand and led her into the circle. My mother taught me to dance when I was younger, and, much to my surprise, Malia seemed to know the moves as well. It was an island waltz, which was fast enough for things not to get awkward, but slow enough that I could hold her close to me and we could talk.
She danced like a princess, as if she’d been trained to do this.
“Was that the prince you spoke to?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes. He was my first customer to buy baked goods and he’s enjoyed them ever since.”
My jaw tightened.Stupid prince.Well I’d been enjoying more than just her baked goods. She made meals and snacks and if only he knew what an incredible cook she was…
Stop, Alaric.But I couldn’t.
“Is something bothering you?” Malia asked. “You seem… tense, like someone’s going to rob your ship.”
Oh yes. I was very tense. “Maybe someone did rob my ship.”
Then her eyebrows raised, as if she realized something. “What would you do if I kissed you?” The question came out of nowhere, and it sent my head reeling.
“What? You wouldn’t?”
“Wouldn’t I?” She leaned in, just a fraction. Enough to make my hands curl into fists.
“Don’t.”
She leaned back, then said. “I want to try something.” And just like that, she pressed a soft kiss to my jaw. I inhaled sharply, my whole world turning upside down. Shesearched my face, and then the softest smile touched her lips.
I was done for.
I grabbed her hand and led her out of the circle, walking through the quiet streets until we reached an empty alley.
I’d had all these plans to leave. I’d rehearsed what I’d say, a hundred times over. But the words slipped away the moment I silently admitted my feelings for her.
I braced one hand on the stone archway behind her, caging her in—not to trap her, but to keep myself from falling apart.
“Tell me to stop,” I whispered.
Her eyes looked past me, wide and unreadable. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Her silence undid me.
“Tell me to leave, Malia.” My voice cracked. My nose brushed hers. A breath of contact, nothing more. But she leaned toward me.
“Tell me...” I said.
I knew this was impossible—me, the whaler. Her, the witch. A life divided by sea and spell.
