Chapter 16 Maximus
Maximus
Istared out at the stars, feeling Kaspar’s weight against my chest. The silence between us hung heavy after I’d finished my story. My throat felt scraped raw by words long buried, leaving me hollow, as if I’d purged some toxic growth that had been festering inside me for years.
“So that’s how I lost my leg,” I said finally. “And the job I adored. My friends… My life… And everything, really.”
Kaspar shifted in my arms but didn’t pull away.
His fingers found mine, intertwining tightly.
“You know, I think I sort of remember hearing about it at the time. About the disgraced officer who escaped before his execution. There were searches everywhere for a week or so. I can’t believe that was you! ”
“The one and only,” I said bitterly. The thought of being remembered as a traitor, a cautionary tale told to young officers, still had the power to twist like a knife in my gut.
“And, after all that, how did you end up on The Black Wraith?” he asked.
“Wasn’t exactly planned.” I shifted, rolling my hips slightly, enjoying still being free of my prosthetic.
“For a while, I lived hand-to-mouth, taking odd jobs on merchant vessels. None lasted long—someone would ask me too many questions, or I’d struggle too much with this.
” I tapped my metal leg. “Then one night in a seedy tavern, I ran into Viper. He was recruiting and didn’t give a damn about my past or my leg, just my skills.
Said a man with nothing to lose makes the best fighter. ”
Kaspar’s fingers traced gentle patterns on my arm. “So you joined up… as the Reaper?”
I chuckled, remembering that crazy time.
“At the beginning, during raids, I wore a black scarf over most of my face, in case anyone recognized me. Then, during a battle, someone shouted, ‘He’s like the goddamn Reaper!’ The name stuck.
Viper loved it—said it was good for the Wraith’s reputation to have Death himself on board.
The crew started making up stories about me, and I just…
let them. Added a few of my own when needed.
By the second month, even I was half-believing the legend. ”
“And… was it hard?”
“Creating the Reaper?” I ran my hand through my hair.
“Not as hard as you’d think. I was already broken and angry.
The crew needed someone to fear, and I needed a way to keep everyone at arm’s length.
” What I didn’t say was how sometimes the line between Max and the Reaper blurred, how there were days I wasn’t sure which one was the mask anymore.
“So you just… became someone else?”
“It helped integrate me into the crew, having all these crazy stories behind me. The missing leg helped too—instant war story. I had to smooth out my posh accent, though.” I mimicked my old, refined speech pattern. “Couldn’t very well sound like I’d taken tea with the king, now could I?”
Kaspar laughed, the sound warming something inside me. “It must be exhausting being the Reaper all the time.”
I stared up at the stars, considering my answer.
“It is. But it’s safer this way. Fear keeps people at a distance.
And distance keeps me safe.” I tightened my arm around him, contradicting my own words.
“When no one gets close, no one can betray you. No one can leave you crushed and bleeding on the deck of a ship, sailing out of your life at the snap of a finger.”
Kaspar lifted his hand to my face, his fingers tracing the outline of my jaw. “Not everyone is Eric, Max.”
“I know that. Logically, I know.” I sighed.
“But logic doesn’t heal wounds like these.
My leg… it’s not just metal. It’s a daily reminder of my mistakes, my gullibility.
Every morning when I strap it on, I remember how I trusted the wrong person.
Loved someone with all my heart, only to have it trampled on. ”
“But you survived,” Kaspar said.
“Sometimes I wonder if that’s a blessing or a curse.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Kaspar’s hand stilled. “Max…”
“Sorry.” I forced a smile. “Dark thoughts.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Talk about Eric?” Kaspar said softly. “Before it all went wrong? It sounded like you loved him so much.”
The question caught me off guard. I so rarely thought back to the good parts. Now they were poisoned by what happened after.
“I did,” I admitted, the words feeling strange on my tongue.
“He was… brilliant, charismatic. Could charm anyone. Had this way of making you feel like you were the only person who mattered when he looked at you.” I remembered his fingers tracing circles on my hip that first night in his quarters, how my heart had thundered when he’d pulled me close, how chosen I’d felt.
“Within weeks of being assigned to his ship, he was already saying I was the best first officer he’d ever had, and that I would be captain of my own ship someday.
” I swallowed hard. “Goddesses, I would have done anything for that man. Did do anything for him. That’s what made the betrayal so deep.
I never thought he was capable of hurting me like that. ”
“I’m so sorry,” Kas whispered, his face pulling into a scowl. “I hate him, Max. I hate what he did to you.”
“I spent years hating him too. And I still do. But mostly, I hate who I was—na?ve, trusting, blind to what was happening right in front of me.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Kaspar said, his voice fierce with conviction. “He was your captain. Your… lover.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust, prompting a shallow laugh from me. “You were supposed to trust him.”
When I only sighed, Kaspar turned in my arms, his face illuminated by starlight. Those green eyes studied me with a new intensity. No pity—just understanding.
“He didn’t deserve you. Not your loyalty, not your heart. None of it.” His fingers brushed over my collection of rings, pausing on Eric’s. “It’s this one, isn’t it?”
I stiffened. “How did you know?”
“It’s the one you play with the most.” His face scrunched up in distaste. “I’ve seen you spinning it when you’re lost in thought.” His eyes never left the ring. “And… well, you still wear it after all this time. So I can’t help but wonder…” He trailed off, but the implication hung in the air.
I gently removed his hand from mine, bringing it to my lips. “As a reminder, Kas, nothing more. It reminds me to never trust completely. Never give anyone that kind of power over me again.”
Kaspar reached up, his palm warm against my cheek. “He took so much from you. Don’t let him take anything more.”
My breath caught in my throat. The simple truth of his words hit me. I’d been so focused on what I’d lost, I hadn’t considered what I was still surrendering—my ability to trust, to connect, to love without reservation.
“I don’t know how to stop,” I admitted.
“You’re already starting,” Kaspar said softly. “You trusted me with your story.” He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “Thank you for telling me,” he finally said. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
“You deserved to know.” I hesitated, then added, “I haven’t told anyone the full story. Not even Ariella.”
“Why me?”
It was a fair question. One I’d been asking myself since I’d started speaking tonight. Why had I opened these old wounds for him? Why lay bare the ugliest parts of my past?
“Because,” I said slowly, “when I’m with you, I don’t feel like the man I became after Eric. For the first time in five years, I feel like maybe there’s something left of the person I used to be.”
It was only as I said it that I fully appreciated the truth of it.
These last few weeks with Kaspar had transformed something inside me.
Each secret smile across the deck, each brush of hands when passing tools, each night spent talking in hushed voices—they’d stitched together pieces of me I thought were lost forever.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this light. This… happy. The word itself felt foreign, like a language I’d forgotten how to speak. But there it was—happiness—sneaking into my life when I least expected it.
Kaspar looked up at me, his lovely eyes reflecting starlight. My heart immediately kicked against my ribs like it was trying to escape. This reaction to him still caught me off guard every time. One look from him, and I was gone.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“You,” I admitted. “How different everything feels with you here.”
A slow smile spread across his face. Without warning, he untangled himself from my grasp, only to climb onto my lap.
His weight settled against me, familiar now after our sky-drop adventure.
His arms wrapped around my neck, and I instinctively pulled him closer, my hands finding their place at his waist.
“You mean it’s better?” he asked, his face inches from mine.
“Very, very much so,” I murmured, feeling slightly guilty that I wasn’t actively scanning the skies through my telescopic.
But it was a clear night, stars scattered like diamonds across black velvet, and we were in relatively safe airspace.
The ship’s instruments would hopefully alert us to any approaching danger before my telescopic would even spot it.
Though the warmth radiating from Kaspar’s body overrode any thoughts about it not being worth the risk.
His weight on my lap felt like an anchor, keeping me tethered to this moment, to him.
Years without human touch, and now I suddenly felt like I couldn’t live without it.
The thought should have terrified me, but with his arms around my neck and his eyes reflecting starlight, fear seemed distant and unimportant.
“I should be keeping watch,” I said, making no move to shift him from my lap. My hands stayed firmly at his waist, thumbs tracing small circles against the fabric of his shirt.
“You are,” he replied with a mischievous grin that sent my heart racing impossibly faster. “Just not of the skies. You’re keeping watch of me doing this…”