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Words hovered on my lips, but I couldn’t seem to get them to move.

“Can I see it?” Coen asked eventually, his eyes trailing from my left shoulder to my right arm.

Knowing exactly what he meant, I nodded, and he knelt before me until we were eye to eye, his pupils swallowing my reflection. Gingerly, he gathered both of my hands in one of his and lifted them until my arms rose above my head.

My breath caught. My pulse thrummed in my throat. He used his free hand to trace a finger around the new brand, never touching the sensitive border but memorizing the shape of it. Murder flickered across his gaze, and I knew he was contemplating the political risks of visiting Mr. Gleekle right here and now.

But the sudden disappearance of the president of the Esholian Institute wasn’t the only thing that would wreak havoc upon the island.

“Coen,” I whispered, shards splintering in my heart at what I was about to say. “I… I don’t think I can stay here.”

The realization had been gnawing at me ever since my feet had touched down on this deck. Merely hours ago, I couldn’t fathom returning to the Esholian Institute with a power I couldn’t control, but now that I wasn’t smashing pillars and breaking glass every five seconds, I couldn’t fathom leaving the island either.

“What?” Coen brought my hands back down, still kneeling before me. “I told you, Rayna, I’m not going to hurt you. My oath doesn’t feel active around you.”

The expression on his face, the pleading… it dug into my chest, chiseling out a sob that stuck in my throat.

“It’s not that,” I urged. “I promise. I trust you with my entire via.” The Sorronian word for heart slipped out without any forethought, and Coen’s eyes widened. “But Dyonisia doesn’t trust me. Not completely. If I disappear on her now, right after she bestowed me another gift, she’ll know exactly who to target.”

My thoughts strayed to Emelle and Lander, to Willa and Felicity and all my other friends—humans and animals alike. The moment my instructors reported my absence to the Good Council, there would be an investigation, and everyone I loved would be in even more danger than they’d been in before.

It was the same predicament as last year, except now Coen was the Fated General who was supposed to be dead, and I was on track to join the very council he was set to destroy. The strings of our fate just kept tangling into further knots, twisting and twining and pulling into something I wasn’t sure we could ever unravel.

“Last year,” I continued, trying to swallow that knot in the base of my throat, “Dyonisia threatened to demolish all of Alderwick if I didn’t stab you in the heart. What do you think she’ll do if I break free of her hold now?”

Coen didn’t answer. He simply glanced away, his jaw ticking.

“And besides…” My gaze dropped to his knees against the floorboards. “You don’t want me on this ship anyway.”

His eyes whipped back to me. He gripped my chin to tug my gaze back up. “Of course I do, Rayna.”

“Then why did you Walk me directly to Sasha and Sylvie’s quarters and then directly to yours?” I whispered. “Why don’t you want any of the other crew members to see me?” Dazmine, Terrin, Barberro, and Nara—they were all on this ship, too, yet he hadn’t made any mention of them. My voice softened. “Why are you so worried that the captain will tell the queen of Sorronia about me at any moment?”

For a moment, Coen simply looked at me like something ensnared. Then a whistle left his lips, and he shook his head.

“You’re getting too good at that mind-reading thing, little hurricane. I barely even felt you slip through my blockade.”

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, but before I could swipe it away, his thumb was there. I smiled through blurry vision. “It might help that my Mind Manipulating magic came from you.”

“Hmmm.” He studied me, his attention zigzagging from the brand on my left shoulder to my neck as if he could see through to the back of it and then to my right arm again. Three brands. Three powers. I could still hardly believe it, and yet in this moment, none of them felt particularly active.

No, right now my body burned and ached for something else. Something better and more, kneeling right in front of me with an expression like a storm on the brink of boiling over.

In a blink, that expression was gone. Coen stood, helping me to my feet with what might have looked like smooth indifference if I hadn’t noticed the tendons tightening in his throat as he swallowed.

“I don’t know why the captain hasn’t told Queen Mydusia about you yet, but the moment she does…” The air around Coen seemed to crackle. “Dyonisia will be the least of your concerns. She, at least, wants you alive for her own personal agenda.”

Her own personal agenda… whatever that may be.

But I understood Coen’s sentiment, especially when his hand absentmindedly rose to his shoulder and skimmed the topmost part of that wretched tattoo on his back—if Queen Mydusia found out about me, there was every chance she’d give Coen a direct order to murder me immediately. One he wouldn’t be able to ignore without dying himself.

He’d known the island was safer for me all along. Yet he’d been willing to let me make that call myself. And for that alone, I rose on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, closing my eyes at the way his lips collapsed into mine.

When I opened them, Coen’s were still closed, his nostrils flaring, his body rigid against me, the hard planes of his chest rising and falling with controlled precision like he’d just gathered every stich of self-control.

Then his eyes of smoky quartz flashed open, pinning me to the spot.

“Let’s get you back to the Institute before anyone notices you’re gone.”