“Something might work.” The words come out slowly. “But it requires getting into the sea caves. Past Oreth’s fleet. Through waters full of wraiths.”
“The route Thalira showed us. The warded passages from the eastern cliffs.”
“And it requires you being close enough to Oreth that he thinks he’s won.” My jaw tightens. “Close enough for him to start the binding.”
“I’ve talked my way out of worse situations.”
“Have you?” I step closer, and she doesn’t back away. “Because this isn’t a debt collector or a rival smuggler. This is a dead man who’s been hunting you for months. Who needs your blood to live again. He won’t bargain. He won’t hesitate.”
“Then I’ll be faster than him.”
“You’ll be in the water. His territory. Surrounded by his crew.”
“With you backing me up.” She holds my gaze. “Unless you’re planning to let me go alone?”
“Never.” The word comes out gritty. Almost angry. “I don’t let people go into danger alone. Not anymore.”
“Then trust me.” She steps closer still. I can count the flecks of gray in her eyes, see the pulse jumping in her throat. “The way I’m trusting you.”
My breath catches. This close, I feel the heat of her body despite the wind off the water. My hands want to reach for her. My whole body wants to close the remaining distance.
“Aviora—”
“Shut up.”
She grabs my collar and pulls me down. I lift her against me. She wraps her legs around my waist, and a sound rumbles in my chest—half growl, half surrender.
She tastes like salt and determination. Her teeth catch my lower lip, and heat spikes through me—sharp and sweet andcompletely overwhelming. I’ve wanted women before. I’ve taken women before. But this is different. This feels like drowning and breathing at the same time.
We break apart, gasping. Her forehead rests against mine, her breath coming ragged, her fingers still tangled in my collar.
“If you die in those caves—” I start.
“I won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.” She pulls back enough to meet my eyes. Her lips are swollen from the kiss, her cheeks flushed despite the cold. “But I can promise I’ll fight. And if that’s not enough—” She takes a shaky breath. “Then at least we tried. That’s more than I’ve been able to say in years.”
I want to argue. Want to tell her that trying isn’t good enough, that I need her to survive, that something has cracked open in my chest that I don’t have a name for, and losing her now would be worse than anything Oreth could do to me.
But the words won’t come. I’ve spent too many years burying everything soft, everything vulnerable. The language of want has rusted in my mouth.
So I kiss her again instead.
This time it’s slower. Deeper. I learn the shape of her mouth, the catch in her breath when my hands slide up her back, the way she sighs against my lips when I pull her closer. She’s warm and solid and alive in my arms, and for one perfect moment, the rest of the world falls away—the drowned fleet, the coming battle, the guilt I’ve been carrying for years.
There’s just her. Just this. Just the impossible thing happening between two people who should know better.
A horn sounds across the water.
We pull apart, both of us turning toward the harbor. The sun is touching the horizon, painting the sky in shades of blood and rust. And below, in the churning water, Oreth’s fleet is moving.
Ghost lights blaze at every prow. The chains at the harbor mouth groan as dead hands begin to work them, testing the mechanism, looking for weaknesses. On the flagship’s deck, a figure in tattered finery raises one rotting arm in a gesture that might be a salute or mockery.
The siege of Dreadhaven has begun.
EIGHT
