Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
The Entia cut a graceful path over a calm sea, her sails catching the soft golden light of the waning sun.
Like he did most days, Augustus made his way to the bow.
This time of day, the horizon burned with vibrant color.
His mother used to say it was like watching a painting take shape, the way the colors blended seamlessly with the shimmering gold of the water’s surface.
Today, he paused to lean against the mainmast and folded his arms. The view on the quarterdeck above was much more to his liking.
Selene stood at the railing outlined by the amber light, hair dancing in the breeze.
She had been quiet over the last week, taking it all in as if she were the stranger aboard and not the other way around.
Not unlike what she was doing now, her gaze sweeping over the lower deck, halting every so often on a few key people.
There was a soft, knowing smile for Lili—she and Rosyln often found small ways to touch one another, thinking no one noticed. Selene had.
Her expression darkened whenever Blaze barked orders at the crew—something he did often lately, his tone filled with frustration. Augustus decided days ago that wherever that emotion came from was none of his business.
Roman, she skipped over entirely—maybe a little too entirely.
Petrina always earned a wry smirk.
Oskar, a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
Felix and Pavle, friendly little finger waves.
Then there were Bee, Rook, and Fish, who were supposed to be in Okos. The troublemakers had hidden aboard and revealed themselves almost a full day from the shore. Selene always had a good laugh at their antics.
Selene’s gaze lingered longest on those she didn’t know: the deft hands of Omar’s family handling the day-to-day routines, and the wary glances of Roman’s people, who were still unsure where they stood amongst the crew.
The longer she stood there taking in the entire scene, the deeper her brow furrowed.
Augustus knew that look well—it was the one she wore when the guilt became too much. Come tomorrow, it was likely that many of these people wouldn’t be here. If Thorne had his way, none of them would be.
If Augustus had his way, all of them would see a full life.
Petrina popped up to his side, flipping a small knife end-over-end. He’d liked this girl from the beginning. She antagonized Roman; it was that simple. After all she’d done to keep Selene safe, he counted her among the few he’d guard with his life.
“You two good?” she asked, following his stare.
“You tell me.”
He had yet to earn Selene’s trust back since reuniting, and Petrina had become Selene’s sounding board. He was determined not to let that get to him—he’d earned this punishment and would suffer it with grace.
Petrina’s eyes narrowed in thought. “She’s my first friend, you know?”
“You without friends? With that charming personality? I don’t believe it.”
“I tell you that to say I’m not going to ruin it by sharing anything she told me in confidence.” She turned and drummed the knife hilt on his arm. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. She’s working through it.”
Relief poured into him like an upended bucket of cool water. “Thank you.”
A slanted smile broke across her face as she started away. “Keep doing that thing with your tongue, too. She really likes that.”
Augustus laughed and pushed off the mainmast. “Aye, aye.”
He passed Oskar near the starboard side.
The man was sharpening a blade with slow, deliberate movements, his keen eyes darting to Selene every so often.
He followed her around much like he had in those early days aboard the Soris.
The Drynopians put everyone on guard after they learned the details of Selene’s narrow escape.
The only reason Augustus agreed to their help at all was because Roman fought the Mother on Selene’s behalf.
“At ease, old man,” Augustus said, slapping Oskar on the shoulder. “I’ll take over from here.”
Oskar lowered his chin in a nod and started off. “You know where to find me.”
Augustus paused at the bottom of the stairs, startled by how the setting sun painted Selene in hues of fire and light, making her seem almost otherworldly. A goddess rooted in the chaos of his world.
Selene’s gaze brushed his, and her lips quirked in a smile she’d only ever reserved for him.
Augustus lingered in the rare moment, anchored by the sight of the woman he loved after weeks apart.
She crooked her finger to guide him up the stairs, which he did like a man in a trance. She watched his every step, every rise and fall of his breath, until he moved into the space directly behind her.
He didn’t touch her—not yet. Instead, he caged her in his arms, bracing his hands on the railing to either side of her, and lowered his lips to her ear. “You look like a girl in need of a distraction.”
“Do I?”
He swept his nose over her hair, the strands tickling his skin. “Maybe it’s me who needs it. You smell divine.”
“Surely, Captain, you have better things you could be doing to occupy your time than sniff my hair.”
A promise to indulge her fantasies with his tongue came to mind, but vanished as Roman hopped onto a crate below. Of all the places to sit, he chose one directly in Selene’s line of sight and made sure to catch her eye as he reclined back into his hands.
Roman’s gaze shifted to Augustus, and his mouth turned up on one side.
The wood railing cut into Augustus’s palm. “Doesn’t that man own a shirt?”
“The men rarely wore shirts in the village. I think it’s just their way.”
“Well, he’s on a ship right now, and our way is to wear a godsdamned shirt.”
Selene chuckled. “Why do you let him get to you? I thought you were here to distract me.”
“He’s staring at you like you’re his.”
“No, he isn’t.”
He barely heard her. “Maybe I’ll scoop his eyes from his head. That’d be a fun distraction.”
“Here’s a thought—we ignore him and—”
“I have a better idea.” Augustus brushed her hair over one shoulder, baring her slim neck. “You stay very still while I whisper all the things I want to do to your body right now.”
She gave him her profile. “We’re surrounded by crew.”
“Are you afraid they’ll see you blush?” He swept his nose in the space along the scoop of her shoulder to her neck, careful not to touch her. Then, lips to her ear, he whispered, “Or that they’ll sense how wet you get for me?”
“Augustus.”
He smiled. “It’s been a while since you said my name like that, i psychi mou. I missed it.”
Selene turned in his arms and gripped his waist, eyes dancing with the last of the golden sunlight. “I missed hearing you call me that.”
“As long as you don’t doubt that I mean it.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You are my soul, my heart, my breath. My everything. My…”
The word locked in his throat, and it pissed him off that Roman had said it first.
“Soul mate?” she asked.
His lips quirked—she could always read his mind. “We’ve been avoiding that particular word for a long time, haven’t we?”
“Seems silly. We acknowledge so many other ways we’re connected, but that one word…”
Augustus shifted his weight closer. “Are you suggesting we stop fighting it?”
“The word itself doesn’t have to matter as long as we go into tomorrow knowing where we stand.” Her palms climbed his stomach, sternum, pecs… “If you leave me in this world alone, I’ll chase you into our next life, Triarius. There is no me without you.”
Her final word barely escaped before his mouth descended on hers. The din of the ship faded, and all that remained was the rhythmic crash of the waves against the hull.
And Selene. The rise of her chest, the thread of her fingers through his hair, the heat of her sweet breath and tongue. Her body stretched against his, languid, her hips filling his palms, her spine an instrument beneath his fingertips.
Her kisses slowed, and her lips stretched into a smile against his mouth. “Take me to bed. Remind me what else you can do with that mouth.”
“With pleasure.”
Augustus didn’t just worship Selene’s body that night—he gave his entire soul to her. He was hers, and she was his, and no one would ever look at them again and think otherwise.
In those final hours before dawn, she released the walls and shackles between them—they laughed, they fucked, they whispered, they slept for minutes at a time. They watched the sun begin to rise from the balcony in nothing but a shared blanket and their bare skin.
“Phya is just a money man,” Augustus said. He sat with his back to the glass wall, Selene settled between his legs, and an early morning sea dotted with the Bladesworn’s ships in the Entia’s wake.
Now that the hours were closing in, Selene’s anxiety was starting to voice itself with a lot of questions. To his surprise, she’d already known Taran Phya was funding Thorne’s war.
Augustus kissed the top of her head. “I’ll offer him whatever he wants to end this war. Men like him always have a price.”
“Will it matter? Thorne has his ships and weapons. He’s—” Selene’s body quaked with a full-body shiver, and she absently touched the scar on her cheek. “He’s mad, Augustus.”
A year ago, he’d have brushed off a comment like that. He was a Triarius. He was Cassia’s Bane. He came to this war armed with mercenaries and a gut full of revenge.
But his mother had once warned that it was impossible to win a battle against madness. He learned Cassia’s full meaning the hard way—they might have escaped Orestis Vidalatos with their lives, but they lost much more in the process. Losses they would never recover from.
So, no, he wouldn’t brush off her concern. He’d witnessed how far Thorne intended to go, and Selene had lived aboard his ship for weeks.
“I don’t know what more I can do.” Augustus rested his chin atop her head. “I just want to protect my dad and whoever’s left in the fleet, and if I have to sell my soul to Taran Phya to make up for my mistake, I will.”