Cael guided Xenia into the hull, tucking his wing as Ohan led them through a cramped maze of low-ceilinged hallways and staircases. They arrived at a tiny room lined with narrow bunks.
“Normally, a few of the crew would be sleeping in here, but they’ve agreed to stay up on deck to give you some privacy, my dear,” Ohan said.
“Oh, that wasn’t necessary. I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“It’ll do, Ohan,” Cael said. “And thank you for the privacy. Trust me, Zee, you’re going to want it. Even though the trip is only three days, you don’t want to be shacked up with a bunch of randy, smelly Fae sailors.”
“Wouldn’t be any different than the past few days,” she quipped, smirking. Though the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Right,” Stolia said, clapping Cael on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes. Ship launches in thirty minutes. I’ve let Captain Krieger know you’re on board, my dear. He’ll make sure his crew leaves you alone, but will send meals down for you. Head’s back there.” He motioned towards a small door at the back of the room.
“I trust that we can keep this quiet?” Cael said. “My father can never know about her.”
“Of course, of course. Bon voyage!” The hulking Beastrunner ducked through the door, shutting it with a metallic thunk.
Cael turned to Xenia, pulling Ker from the sheath at his hip. “Here. Take this with you. For protection, and also to return it to Cassandra when you see her. And tell Tristan—” his voice wavered on his friend’s name “—that I’m sorry I lied to him about returning to the colonies.”
A war waged across Xenia’s face. She was clearly ecstatic at the thought of being re-united with her friend, but something was holding her back.
She’d grown too attached to him. He couldn’t bear it. He’d brought her nothing but danger and misery. And even if, by some miracle, he could find a way to keep her, all that likely awaited them was an ending exactly like the one he’d had with Killian—a rift that had grown wider and wider with each of Cael’s subsequent episodes. He’d battle Vestan the Warrior God himself before he’d put anyone through that misery again. He would not be Xenia’s emotional vampire.
She reached for him, then halted when he took a large step backwards.
The hurt darkening her emerald eyes gouged his heart.
He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his own startling tears, kept his expression as cold as possible.
“There was never anything between us, Xenia,” he ground out, the lie hammering through his chest. “Real life doesn’t have as many happy endings as your ridiculous stories. It’s dark and cold and cruel. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”
Her gaze guttered, her beautiful, bow-shaped lips pinched tight as she wrapped her arms around her chest. Closing herself off to him. Thank the High Gods.
This was the right thing to do.
Right?
So why did it hurt so fucking bad?
She stared at him, as if she could read every emotion churning beneath his granite surface. She opened her mouth for a retort, then closed it, shaking her head and turning away to sit on a squeaky bunk.
A beam of sunlight broke through the porthole, lighting her up like an angel and nearly shattering his resolve.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Cael.”
He stormed out of the suddenly claustrophobic berth, needing to get off this ship before he did something incredibly stupid.
Like rushing back into that tiny room and sweeping the gorgeous, sunny, sassy woman there into his arms.
And confessing that he’d already found it.
CHAPTERFORTY-NINE
Cael’s clanging footsteps faded to a ringing echo.
Though his harsh words stung, Xenia didn’t believe he meant them.
She was sure they’d been some misguided attempt tosaveher. Keep her from getting too close. Still believing himself broken despite all the good he’d done, all the good he was capable of doing.
And she’d be damned if she let him give up on himself that easily.
