41. A Thousand Stars
A Thousand Stars
CASPIAN
Acombination of light and warmth assaulted my lids, a sensation I firmly believed I would never experience again.
While the icy chill of a shadow-shrouded abyss wasn’t unfamiliar, that piercing sheen of illumination I’d found myself drawn to dissolved into nothingness.
The darkness I was accustomed to became my comfort, and it hadn’t taken me long to accept my fate—one cradled by my father in the aftermath of extinction.
But somehow…
Fingers brushing over something soft, I contemplated its texture.
Silk, perhaps? A blanket? Instinctively, I tested my consciousness and fisted my hand with enough pressure that my nails pierced the tense flesh of my palm.
A sharp sting flared, and I savored its confirmation of my continued existence.
With a graveled groan, I adjusted myself on the plush surface beneath me.
My lashes fluttered, a blurry film clouding my vision and warping my surroundings.
Everything fused into a collision of color and the golden rays of dripping sunlight.
Mind failing to conform with my sight, I blinked with languidity, and the haze lifted to reveal a well-kept room.
As my senses returned, the familiar scent of dried herbs, clean linen, and salt lingered in the air.
Golden beams spilled through the windows to my left, washing the space in a warm glow that danced across the polished floor with each gentle sway of the ship.
Nestled in front of the clear glass was a desk cluttered with open journals, anatomical sketches, and what appeared to be half-finished notes detailing treatments.
Along the walls, sturdy shelves held neatly arranged bottles and ceramic jars filled with tinctures and powders.
Bundles of lavender, quassia, ammiadamon, chamomile, sage, and willow bark hung from the rafters above, left to dry before use.
The heavy mortar and pestle responsible for grinding their properties down for use sat on a nearby workbench still dusted with the remnants of what, I had no clue.
Having half expected to wake up in a cell, I couldn’t stop the words from spilling with just as much confusion as I harbored. “What the fuck?”
Silence hung for a breath, interrupted by a voice I recognized—Sapphira. “You’re awake.”
I craned my head to the right to find her seated beside me.
Her caramel irises greeted me first, their darker specks highlighted by her slightly disheveled bob.
While a light blush dusted her cheeks, her bronze skin had lightened, signaling her unease.
No longer confined by shackles or bars, there was nothing to separate us if I wished to test the viscosity of her essence, and she knew that.
“Sapphira,” I crooned, my timbre carrying a tinge of unfamiliarity. “Which god do I owe my graces to for waking up with you by my side?”
She bit her bottom lip before averting her gaze. “I thought you would’ve enjoyed company when you woke up, but it seems I may have been mistaken.”
“To what? Discuss the weather?” Huffing, I planted my palms at my sides and pushed myself upright. A sharp agony bloomed in my abdomen with the movement, but I ignored it, channeling my anguish into agitation. “We already spoke.”
“Clearly that conversation was insufficient,” she replied as she turned back toward me. “I know you stated you understood the decisions I made, just as I’m more than aware you said it to deflect.”
The corners of my mouth curled upward into a poisonous sneer. “Bold of you to set foot in here with accusations on your tongue. As not only a crew member, my navigator, and a woman I saw as family, I expected better.”
“Regarding what, Caspian? The betrayal? Or my willingness to call things as I see them?”
Anger simmered through my veins, charged with a potency I recognized but couldn’t quite label.
“You believe yourself a saint for what reason? Your apology? Your presence on Malrik’s ship?
As far as I’m concerned, forgiveness has been extended, but that does not negate the fact that you are a traitor, Sapphira Maris. ”
“Is that you talking, or Sorva—?”
My bare soles greeted the sun-soaked wood with newfound speed.
Distance no longer serving her benefit, I drove my foot into the chair she occupied.
Legs failing to protest the force of my wrath, its back collided with the wall behind her.
With the thud still reverberating throughout the room, I positioned my calf between her thighs as my palm met the space above her head.
“Calling me mindless now?” A manic chuckle followed, an icy warning clinging to my utterance.
“I would tread lightly, Saph, for my patience is thin and my bloodlust is bottomless. Considering you’re well-acquainted with my darkness, I figured you wouldn’t dare test it. But it seems your stupidity lingers.”
“I am rather acquainted with all of you, Caspian,” she hissed, glare locked on me. “Which is precisely why—”
A throat cleared, its sharpness only capable of belonging to one.
Turning to glance over my shoulder, that captivating emerald stare awaited me. Rohen’s expression twisted with a mix of anger and jealousy, the latter an emotion I never believed capable of painting her features—especially when it came to me.
She wore the sea as though it had been stitched into every layer she carried, my weathered tricorn resting atop a riot of waves.
Her loose linen shirt contrasted with her dark, fitted bodice, sleeves rolled and wrinkled by salt and wind.
Leather belts crossed her waist, highlighting the curves I was certain she didn’t believe she had.
The addition of a crimson sash hung from her hips in tattered folds, like the last ember of a dying fire.
Brown trousers gathered loosely into battered boots, scuffed from the decks and every trek she’d taken since I first set eyes on her.
In no other instance had a woman stolen my breath, but gods, she was fucking magnetic.
Rohen was freedom wrapped in weathered fabric and torn hide, a soul certainly too wild to ever belong to anyone.
But that was what made me desire her most. I had known the instant we crossed paths that I would gladly traverse every sea just to see one of those rare, effortless smiles she never seemed to realize she wore.
Sapphira spoke before I could. “Rohen, we were just—”
“Get out,” my little siren snarled, her glower pulsing with something deadly.
“I was just—”
“I said, get out!” Rohen barked as a wave summoned by her ire crashed against the hull.
Lowering my foot, I gave Sapphira the appropriate space to stand, and she obliged. Pushing herself up, she crossed the room in a blink before side-stepping Rohen to slip out.
The door slid back into position, latching with an audible click that only seemed to add to the tension building between us. Unmoved, Rohen held her stance just within the threshold, her brows furrowed with something that transcended mere loathing.
“Fancy seeing you here, little siren.” Her elected nickname slipped from me in challenge, testing to see if she would bite the lure I tossed. When the same resounding quiet answered, I continued, “Don’t look too concerned about me, or I might assume you give a shit.”
Lips lifting, she offered me the grin that had easily become my damnation. “Careful, Captain, your all-too-familiar prodding may make me believe you crave my attention.”
“Say I do?” I posed, tongue trailing across my teeth. “What then?”
She responded, not with her cadence, but with her approach.
Feet became inches as she moved into the room, each drum of her boots against the planks awakening the depths of my essence.
The infamous dagger she wielded bounced against her hip, a sword she’d been gifted tucked into a sheath of its own right beside it.
In mapping her with my eyes, I found myself, once again, drawn to her lethality, desiring nothing more than for her to carve into my flesh…
Her palm slammed into my chest with enough power that I was forced to take a step back to gather my footing.
Just as fast as she had shoved me away, she looped two fingers around a belt loop and tugged me forward.
Our bodies clashed, a visceral heat consuming my insides, only to erupt as her mouth met mine.
The kiss was loathing and longing molded into one, an exchange of unspoken needs and fleeting glances. It was life and death, rebirth and renewal—everything I never knew I needed and more.
Millennia and eons passed behind my lids, the concept of time irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.
It was a fusion, a joining of souls long since craved by the lands.
We were key components of the prophecy, the decipherers of fate and chance, and our parents had informed us of such.
Though how much I believed my father was up for debate. That was, until now.
Melting in her touch, a husky groan rolled from me as my hands greeted her sides. With one tug, any fraction of space evaporated until both of our presences merged. As her chest settled against mine, I trailed my fingertips along her edges, memorizing the feel of her.
We parted only for a breath, our lips meshing once more as everything around us dissipated. My hunger for all she was reached a near-breaking point, desire dripping from me as both a promise of devotion and an extension of control.
Rohen responded in kind, fisting a handful of my hair as she yanked my head back.
A moan spilled from me, but she was quick to devour my mind and soul as if she herself were a Tide Eater, and I allowed it.
In response to my muffled pleasure, she tightened her hold on my strands.
I opened wider as the burn on my scalp grew, and she took advantage of the gap.
Her tongue darted past my teeth, and she swept between each molar, plunging into my depths.