“Fine. Maybe I don’t know exactly what I want,” I admit. “But you know what Idoknow? That I’ve spent my entire life being the Thorne who follows every rule, never takes risks, and always does the logical thing. And where did that get me? My brother’smissing, maybe dead. There might not be a tomorrow, and there might not be a ‘right’ time. There might just be this boat, these monsters, and the very real possibility that we all die before we get home.”
He doesn’t step back, and the fact that Kieran Cross is choosing to stay in my space when every instinct he has is very likely screaming at him to retreat tells me more than words ever could.
“The last time I let someone close...” He stops to center himself, and his eyes squeeze shut, then open again. “I couldn’t protect them. They died, and I had to watch.”
The air leaves my lungs.
Someone.Not a friend. Not a colleague. The way he says it... the devastation in his voice...
He loved them. Whoever they were, he loved them.
“How long ago?” I whisper.
“Six years.”
And just like that, the pieces click into place.
“You’re afraid. That’s what this is about. You’re afraid of getting close to someone again because you’re scared of losing them.”
His whole body goes rigid.
“Don’t,” he says, although the way he’s looking at me—as if my words are cutting through his walls like steel—says the opposite.
“You use the rules as a shield.” I’m on a roll now, and I refuse to let up. “You keep everyone at arm’s length so you never have to feel that kind of loss again, and now you’re doing it with me. You’re hiding behind professionalism because admitting you feel something would mean risking?—”
“I can’t lose anyone else.” The words explode out of him, and my ribs ache, like he reached in and squeezed my lungs.
I don’t have time to formulate a response before the door opens.
Kieran and I spring apart so fast that I slam my hip into a water barrel, pain racing through me.
“Hey.” Callie steps inside, looking from Kieran, to me, and back to Kieran. “Is there anything in here that might help with navigation? Charts? A working compass?Anything?”
Kieran drags a hand through his hair. His chest is heaving, and there’s a wild look in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
“No,” he says, sounding surprisingly controlled given what he looks like, and what his heat signature feels like.
“Are you sure? Because I could swear I saw a chest earlier, and we could really use?—”
“There’s nothing.”
“Fine. Whatever,” she says. “But if we sail in circles until we starve, I’m blaming both of you.”
She gives us a pointed look, steps out of the room, and closes the door.
Neither of us moves. His breathing’s ragged, mine matches it, and the two feet of air between us feels like a live wire I’m both afraid to touch and desperate to grab.
I should say something. Anything. But my brain’s stuck onI can’t lose anyone else,replaying it over and over, trying to extract meaning from the words like they’re a research text I can annotate.
“We should go up,” Kieran says, flat and distant.
The change of demeanor stings more than it should. But at the same time, I understand. I pushed too hard, demanding answers he wasn’t ready to give, and now he’s retreating behind the walls I was trying to cut down.
“Okay.” The word comes out quieter than I intended.
He gives me a single nod, turns, and climbs up the ladder, closing the hatch behind him.
I stay where I am, surrounded by thirty-six hours of food, three barrels of water, one conversation that changed everything and solved nothing, and the heat that Kieran Cross leaves in his wake everywhere he goes—especially when those places involve me.
