Chapter 20
Kressa slams the captain’s door behind her, blocking the view as Julian slaps rhodium cuffs back around my crews’ wrists.
“I told you to keep the gloves on,” she spits.
I grit my teeth, flexing my hands against the rhodium. “That wyvern was going to kill you. If I would have kept them on, you’d be dead.”
“I was almost dead because a blast of fire slammed into my chest.” She shoves my shoulders, her voice rising. “If Julian hadn’t regained consciousness, the ship would be gone and we’d all drown. And now we have to patch a hole in the sail because you are incapable of controlling your power.”
“But there was no other choice,” I whisper, my stomach sinking. “Nicole reached burnout.”
Her hands tremble at her sides. “Frankly, I don’t care how close she was to burnout.”
She steps forward, forcing me back until my shoulder blades hit the wall.
“Are you sure?” I say. “After so many years of not seeing her, you don’t care whether or not she gets hurt? I never read those letters in your room, but there were enough to prove how in love with you she was. And now you’re sharing your quarters with her?”
She slams a palm against the wall beside my head, caging me in on one side. “Is that what this is about? You’re angry because she slept in here?”
“I’m angry because she slept with you.”
The anger on her face washes away, and the muscles in her shoulders loosen. She shakes her head. “I didn’t sleep in here, Briar.”
“But Julian said—”
She pinches my chin between her thumb and forefinger, tilting my gaze to meet hers.
“Listen to me as I say this, because I’m only saying it once.
” Her eyes hold mine, unyielding. “Nicole is a part of my past. We have history together, yes, but that’s all it is.
History. If it were up to me, she wouldn’t be here. ”
“Then why is she? Why would she even want to come?” My chest tightens, and I flick my gaze away from her, hating the defensiveness in my voice—the weakness it holds over me.
“Look at me.”
Swallowing, I force my eyes back to hers. They’re unfamiliar from the ones I came to know over the last few weeks. These ones are unsteady—a war raging behind her irises.
A breath billows out of her mouth, and her eyes dip to my lips, only for a heartbeat. She releases her hold on my chin and drags the back of her knuckles over my cheekbones, sending a chill in their wake. I hold my breath as a current runs across the space between us.
Even with the rhodium coating my hands and hugging the space between my fingers, the tether between us strings taut. With her this close, it’s nearly impossible to deny the bond.
“Yes?” I breathe.
Her exhale is a shudder. “Forcing myself to stay away from you is torture. When you take off those gloves, it’s so painful I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“Then why are we denying it?” But even as the words come out, I know the answer. I have my court, and she has hers—but only if she gives me to her father for execution.
She closes her eyes, her words a whisper away from my lips. “Because I can’t afford to be selfish.”
I scan her face. “But if it were up to you?”
“It’s not up to me. Nothing has ever been up to me, Briar.” She casts her gaze away from me, and I watch as the scar I gave her stretches into her hairline. “There are too many people counting on me.”
“And what about me?”
She tilts her head, as if I should know the answer. “Put yourself in my position. If the fate of your entire court—and another court, rested in your hands, what would you do?”
I lower my gaze. She already knows what my response would be. And even if she apologized for everything and promised an alliance, I’m not entirely sure I’d take her. The trust is already broken. “Our hands are tied, then.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I couldn’t breathe when I saw that wyvern chase after you.”
I let out a weak laugh. “I guess if it killed me, that would solve your problem.”
“And create so many more.”
My mouth goes dry, and she shifts forward an inch, pressing our chests together.
“Don’t think I’m not tempted to give in,” she says, her breath brushing over the curve of my throat. “That I haven’t fallen asleep in my bedroom in Ignata, just to wake up standing in front of your door. Even in rest, my body wants you.”
My palm finds the small of her waist. Her warmth creeps through, climbing up my forearm. My mind screams at me to pull away, or slip out from under her hold, but I can’t—as if my center of gravity needs her to keep it steady. I could fall into her and never reach the bottom.
Her hand falls from the wall and finds a home at my nape, fingers weaving through my hair. She closes the space between us—our bodies and our lips nearly flush. Our breaths tangle together, and I flick my gaze up, only to find her staring at me.
A knock comes from the door.
She stiffens, hands falling to her sides as she steps back. “It’s the bond making us think this way. I told you it would manipulate us—do everything to pull us together.”
The air chills, and a weight settles on my chest. But I swallow back the ache and step away from the wall. I got myself out of Ignata to find Inez and get Isolde to help me. There’s no space for Kressa in my plans.
Kressa strides across the quarters and pulls the door open.
“We’re waiting for orders,” Julian says, glancing at me over Kressa’s shoulder. He raises a brow.
Kressa clears her throat and strides out to the deck, and Julian holds the door open for me, watching each of my footsteps.
As I pass, he dips his head. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me.”
I shrug. “Thanks for stopping me from burning the entire ship down.”
“It was a mutually beneficial decision.”
He gives me a weak smile that disappears as we join the others in the center of the deck. Elayne, Thea, and Celia stand across from me, their hands bound in rhodium cuffs. Celia’s eyes meet mine, and my stomach curdles. I don’t need her to speak the words to know what she’s thinking.
Isolde never came.
And if she hasn’t come, we aren’t going back to Ignata.
“So, what’s the plan?” Nicole says. “Do you have an idea where this emerald went?”
Kressa nods. “I have good authority that it’s being taken to Callum.”
“To Atlas?” I step forward. “The Sky Court stronghold?”
Kressa nods. “Ideally, we would approach the recovery of the emerald in a different way. Stealth, perhaps. But we have limited time before we need to get back to Ignata.”
“Then we should go back now.” I hold my spine straight as the others study me, doing everything I can not to show the panic prying at my ribs.
I only brought the others with me thinking I’d be back to free the others with Isolde.
When Golan finds another three are missing, he could very well kill the rest.
Kressa’s eyes narrow on me. “We just left, Briar, and we haven’t even began searching for your crew mate. Under what reason would we return?”
My heart hammers, and I stare out at the horizon. “The wyvern were headed back in that direction. What if they attack Ignata again?”
“Then so be it.” Kressa steps closer. “We are not returning to Ignata without the emerald.”
My chest pinches, and I glance between my three crew mates. Perhaps a wyvern attack is the best we can hope for—give Golan a reason to think they were killed in the attack and spare the others.
I nod at Kressa. “Fine. But if you’d rather have a lead on who has the emerald and where it might be, you should ask Elayne.”
“Why?”
“She’s a seer. She has the ability to determine if someone or something has passed through a certain place, or where they might be headed.”
Nicole crosses her arms over her chest. “We can’t even trust you not to burn the ship down. Why should we believe anything you say?”
“Because I have a feeling whoever took Inez also has that emerald.”
Kressa chews on the inside of her cheek. “Why Inez? Why would someone take her and leave everyone else behind? What’s so special about her?”
I share a glance with Thea, then lower my voice—as if whispering it into the wind would pose too much danger. “She can manipulate time. She’s young and untested after spending almost half her life behind bars, and she can’t stop time completely, but slow it to a crawl for a short amount of time.”
“Long enough to get the emerald,” Kressa whispers.
I nod. “And long enough to have the upper hand in battle.”
Julian lifts a brow at Kressa. “Does your father know that?”
She shakes her head. “If he did, he would have used her a long time ago. They were prisoners to him. Bargaining chips. Nothing else.”
“We should probably be thankful he never thought to find out,” Nicole says, her voice lowered. “It sounds like Inez is just as valuable as your brother.”
“And if he had both of them…” Kressa says, her voice trailing off as our eyes lock.
I tilt my chin, studying her. “Are you scared of what your father is capable of?”
“I’m scared of anyone who thinks they’re entitled to that much power,” she says. “We all saw what Caelus was capable of. And if Callum gets a hold of the emerald, along with Inez, we might not stand a chance.”
Nicole sucks in her cheek, looking out over the ocean. There’s so little shared with me about the Fire Court, but if they’ve been in hiding for as long as they say—a ruler like Golan would be catastrophic for their people.
“There’s a war, Kressa,” I whisper. “And right now, we’re on the losing side. I can’t force you to trust me, or any of my crew members, but you have my word. Our word. We want peace just as much as you do.”
Something shifts behind her eyes, and a swallow works its way down her throat. “Fine, but you’re in charge of patching the sail. There’s extra fabric in the hull that Nicole can help you pull out.” She turns to Thea. “Can I trust you to help me translate with Elayne?”
Thea’s gaze lands on me for a heartbeat, then it settles on Kressa, and she nods. “You have my word.”
“Thank you.” Kressa holds her hand out, and Julian presses the key into her palm. Sliding it into the keyhole on Elayne’s cuffs, Kressa glances at me over her shoulder. “We can’t go anywhere until that sail is mended.”
Nicole glares at me, her lip curled away from her teeth. “Let’s go.”
I tilt my head up and scan the mast, and my skin goes cold. Clinging to the rail of the crow’s nest is the falcon.