Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Near the Entia’s bow, Augustus watched the shadows lengthen in unnatural and distorted ways.
Even with an overcast sky, the darkness clawed for him.
Below, the sea was unnervingly calm, its glass surface reflecting the gunmetal clouds overhead.
Fog crept toward them like a thick blanket and blurred the horizon.
He paced each breath with the calm lap of waves against the hull, but it only made matters worse. There was no rush, no push, no driving force. They’d lost much of the wind hours ago, and the sails were slack.
Lili appeared at his side and swept her gaze across the gray darkness ahead. In the end, she flicked a look at him and back. “I’m sorry.”
Pain shot through his jaw, and he clutched the railing in front of him. “You don’t have to keep saying that. It’s been a week.”
“Well, you haven’t forgiven me yet, so I have to keep saying it.” She spun around and smacked her back against the railing, arms forming a tight bow across her chest. “I haven’t forgiven myself either, so take your time.”
“Lili.”
Her hands came up. “Fine. I’ll stop.” She blew out a breath. “We’ll find her.”
Augustus gave her a pointed look.
“Now I’m done,” she said.
As if sensing the topic of his master, the dronsian climbed up Augustus’s body and perched on his shoulder. His scaly nose nudged Augustus’s cheek.
Augustus jerked his face away. “Stop that, you damned barnacle.”
The barnacle purred, and Augustus resisted the urge to pat the beast’s head.
Lili propped her elbows behind her on the railing and notched her chin toward the current bout of lessons happening only feet away. “Think that’ll do any good?”
Oskar might have left the Guild, but his desire to teach hadn’t.
He and his Blades filled their time instructing Omar’s family in self-defense.
Many of them already had some basic knowledge, but with the ship heading into a war, and so many hurt or dead in the last attack, everyone wanted to be more prepared.
“Every little bit helps,” Augustus said. He nodded at the three teens up front: Emilia, Nik, and Ramon, otherwise known as Bee, Rook, and Fish—the troublemakers. “They remind you of anyone?”
She grinned. “You, me, Blaze…” She shook her head. “Gods, we were a menace at that age, weren’t we?”
“I thought my mother would one day drop us into the sea just to be done with us.”
“Remember the time she hung you by the feet from the yardarm?”
“Bait for a bloodeye. Good times.”
The dronsian fluttered his wings and focused on the movement coming up from behind. Augustus knew exactly who it was before he turned around. The Rangers came together at the top of the stairs, Blaze’s hair half-pulled back the way he used to wear it long ago aboard the Akias.
But something was different about Blaze today. Lines formed deep grooves around his mouth and between his brows, and he folded his arms as if to protect himself from whatever Roslyn was saying. The men, Luc and Xavier, nodded in agreement.
“It’s weird having him back,” Lili said. “I mean, he’s not back back, but you know what I mean. He’s still our Blaze. Only taller. Broader. Those shoulders—”
“Lili.” He caught her dark eyes and shook his head. “He’s leaving.”
Lili’s brows drew down. “How do you know? He hasn’t said anything to me.”
Augustus’s throat tightened. “Look at him.”
She did, and Blaze caught them staring. His arms dropped, and he said something to the Rangers that ended with them nodding. Then, with a final glance at Augustus, Blaze strode down to the main deck and disappeared.
“I’ve seen that look before,” Augustus said, and the dronsian whined.
“If that’s true,” Lili said, her jaw muscles tightening, “I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll talk to you later.”
Augustus strode from the forecastle, stomping down the steps until he reached the main deck.
Everywhere he looked, Omar’s friends and family—strangers—worked and laughed.
They moved with a type of synchronicity unlike anything Augustus had ever seen.
They liked one another, and they were at home on the sea.
This wasn’t a job; it was a way of life.
And they’d somehow managed to suck the Entia’s original crew into their thrall.
Four of the youngest aboard zipped toward Augustus with giant eyes and gaping mouths—Tiny, Mighty, Little, and Scout.
“Can we pet it?” Scout asked.
The dronsian purred, and his tail tap, tap, tapped down Augustus’s back. “What do you say, Little Kraken? Feel like playing for a while?”
“He’s not a kraken,” Little said with a snorting laugh.
“But he is a mighty beast,” Augustus said.
The dronsian, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, leapt and flapped his wings, soaring over their heads. They chased him across the deck with ear-piercing squeals of delight.
Before the attack in Perean, when Augustus saw his future, he and Selene lived with a loyal crew. The days were regimented. Rules kept everyone alive. But the nights…those he spent worshipping the woman he loved. They’d have years like that, sailing wherever the winds took them.
He knew that life by heart, and it was one he wanted to share with her.
These last few weeks opened his eyes to another version. The expanse of a single family that began with two people—Omar and Eliza—and stretched outward like a net of golden thread. Children raised into strength. Strangers welcomed without condition. A legacy forged not in blood, but in choice.
This was what he wanted with Selene. To helm a family, not just a ship. To forge relationships that were stronger than loyalty. This was what their love might eventually bloom into.
The hair prickled on the back of Augustus’s neck.
Blaze stood at the entrance to the officer’s quarters and motioned for Augustus to follow.
Augustus entered his cabin to find Blaze already pouring himself a shot of whiskey. The Ranger tossed it back.
“Where are we dropping you off?” Augustus asked.
Blaze poured another and stepped outside onto the balcony. His silence a confirmation.
Augustus paused at the threshold with folded arms. “Why did you even bother coming?”
“You know why.”
Guilt. Love. Hope.
The kind that lingers too long. Twists itself into duty and doesn’t let go.
Did it matter? The result was the same. Augustus would always and forever belong to someone else, and Blaze couldn’t sit still long enough to allow that level of connection.
Augustus stepped out and peered over the railing. The murky daylight reflected off the ship’s wake, and the air felt cooler this close to the water. “What’s changed?”
“They agreed to come on a rescue mission. This is no longer that.” Blaze faced him. “They came because I wanted to be here.”
His honesty cracked the ice beneath their feet.
Augustus lowered his gaze, heart thudding. They’d been sidestepping this moment, protected behind veils of fury and distraction. Selene. The war. The mission. Excuses collected behind thin walls.
Walls that were gone now.
Augustus let out a slow breath, steadying the tremor in his chest. “And now you don’t?”
Blaze’s voice dipped. “And now I see I was delusional at best…and a complete idiot at worst.”
He stepped in close, and Augustus turned into the smell of the man he once loved. Into the familiarity of leather and whiskey and just a hint of rosemary soap.
Blaze reached up and cupped the side of Augustus’s neck, thumb grazing his pulse. “Right?”
Love, history, memory…a noose. Augustus should have stepped away. Should’ve said yes, or don’t, or stop.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Gods, it’d been too long since someone touched him like this. Right or wrong, he needed…something. To feel…anything else. Just this once.
Blaze’s grip tightened, slow, possessive. Then he pulled him in.
Their mouths collided like the last gasp of a storm. Familiar. Practiced. Messy with desperation. Augustus closed his eyes and leaned into it, let it flood him, let it take the sharpest corners of his grief and sand them down.
The taste of buttery caramel swept across his tongue, and he kissed harder. He clutched at Blaze’s jaw, the scratch of stubble, the unforgiving angles of his face. Nothing soft. Nothing yielding. Just salt and heat and the memory of belonging.
He knew this body. These lips. The exact rhythm of this kiss. He knew the ache it left behind when it ended.
But—
This wasn’t right.
Not anymore.
Her name echoed through him like a prayer—his soul was already spoken for.
Augustus wrenched free. Their breath tangled. Their foreheads brushed, and he couldn’t let go.
This was his Blaze. His first if. His almost. His what-might-have-been.
Blaze kissed Augustus again, softer this time. Slower. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Augustus huffed a laugh, his voice thick. “Why exactly are you thanking me?”
Blaze stepped from his arms and tipped the last of his whiskey down his throat. “We never got a proper goodbye.”
“Whose fault is that?”
His smile faltered. “You could have come with me.”
Blaze always had an explorer’s spirit that a life at sea couldn’t quench; he’d known that. Augustus just didn’t think at the time Blaze would choose that life over him.
“I waited for you,” Blaze said.
“You should have known I wouldn’t follow.”
They were both stubborn, and Augustus’s life was at sea. The last six months only proved he wasn’t built for land. But it also proved that, for the right person, he would do just about anything.
“A year ago,” Augustus said, “we might be having a different conversation.”
“But?”
Augustus met his eyes. “Selene.”
Her name was the answer to every question, and a weight released from his chest.
Blaze nodded once. No anger. Only grief.
“Blaze, look at me. I need you to hear me.” Augustus waited for those brown eyes to rise. “The depth of what I feel for her can’t be set aside or dismissed. She’s the air I breathe and the heart I lost along the way.”