Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
He tells me about how Gabriel, Flynn, and Eliza stowed away on the Starchaser during his first year as captain.
“We were just kids,” he says with a wistful sigh.
But his eyes darken, and I can tell his thoughts have gone to Will—to their friendship.
To his betrayal, not just of him—but of the Cooper siblings as well.
I almost reach for his hand, curling into a fist atop the table, but before I can, he’s on his feet, his back to me, making his way to the gramophone. A moment later, music fills the room, slower than the muffled tune Rook plays just outside.
Titus crosses the room to me once more, his expression unreadable as he bows, extending his hand.
A roguish grin touches his lips. “Care to dance?”
My heart nearly tumbles out of my chest. I’m reminded, instantly, of the day Captain Shade held out his hand to me atop the gallows in the town square, when I first arrived in the Eerie. Then, he offered me safety. Freedom.
Now he offers me something else—something much more terrifying. Something I’ve never allowed myself to hope for.
And yet, I don’t hesitate to take his hand.
Heat flares in his eyes, as if I’d answered more than just his request for a dance.
His hand shakes as it presses against the small of my back, and I place my hand atop his shoulder, noting the tension coiled in his muscles there. Every point of contact burns. Agonizing. Exhilarating. Electric.
“I’ve asked Gabriel to remain on standby,” he says, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “In case my toes need emergency care.”
I pinch his shoulder. He smiles.
Our eyes meet, and I can’t ever imagine looking away.
Softly, I whisper, “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
He frowns, his fingers curling at my back. “I wish I could do more,” he murmurs. “One day, I hope you’ll give me the chance.”
I rest my cheek on his chest, and I think he might stop breathing. “I’d like that.”
His deep exhale warms the top of my head, and the tension in his shoulders seems to melt. As we sway, his thumb brushes the base of my spine, and it feels as if he’d struck a match.
I try to distract myself from the heat clawing its way up my neck. In the dancing firelight, I study the patchwork of tattoos that ink his forearms.
“Why the moth?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He’s silent for a long moment. “It was my first tattoo,” he answers finally.
“That painting—the one in the Queen’s Court—I used to sneak in there, lie on the floor…
I would have stared at it all day if I could.
” A muscle in his jaw feathers. “It was like every time I looked at it, I saw something I hadn’t seen before.
But there was this—this knight in silver armor.
On the center of his helm was a moth. And there was an inscription, almost impossible to read, but I could just barely make out the words. ”
His eyes glaze with a memory, and I fear he won’t continue.
“What did it say?” I prompt gently.
When his eyes focus again, he searches my gaze, his brows nettled. “Those who seek the light, create it.”
I think of the moth, tattooed at the base of my spine, where Titus’s thumb rubs small, intentional circles.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Please.”
“Why did I bite you?”
His lips twitch. “Which time?”
He laughs as he twirls me, but when he catches me in his arms again, his expression is guarded—hesitant.
“Your parents had brought me aboard the Lightbringer two weeks before,” he says with a heavy sigh.
“You didn’t like me. I can’t imagine why not.
” A glimmer of laughter lights his eyes.
“You challenged me to a sword fight and won—obviously. But,” he adds with a small smile, “I tried to shake your hand—good sportsmanship and all—and you thought I was trying to attack you. So you bit me.”
My face flushes with uncomfortable heat. “I did not!”
He grins. “Grace was furious.” He twirls me again, but this time, when he catches me, he tips me back, holding me in his arms, suspended in midair. “I told you, right then and there, that one day, I wished to make you my wife.”
My breath leaves me in a shocked gasp. He holds me a moment longer, his eyes searching mine, his gaze trailing to my lips.…
Slowly, he draws me upright, his chest heaving—but not from the dance.
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything.” He takes a small step back, putting distance between us. He looks away, shaking his head. “You don’t remember, and I—I should just let you forget.”
I close the distance, squeezing his hand, my other cupping his jaw. “I don’t want to forget.”
He looks at me with equal parts fear and hope, sinking into my touch with a shaky exhale.
“I’ve spent my entire life wearing masks—bearing names others have given me.
I’ve never let myself want anything,” he whispers, his eyes shut, face pinched, as if it pained him to say it.
“But I would happily spend the rest of my life chasing clues if it meant we could have more time together.” His eyes flutter open, tentative.
“Am I a fool for thinking you could ever want me the way I want you?”
I’m too stunned to speak, my heart racing.
No, I want to tell him. I want you, too.
I think I’ve always wanted you, even when I couldn’t remember you.
But my skin itches, and I’m seized by the sudden urge to run.
I try to speak, but my voice is clogged with emotion—with everything I want to say.
I’ve spent my entire life running, and now I’m not sure what it would feel like to stop. To not have to hide.
More time together. At Castle Grim, I couldn’t allow myself to want that—to want him. To want time with him, just the two of us. And since finding out that Will had influenced my feelings, since freeing Titus from his own compulsions… it’s felt wrong, thinking about what I want. It still does.
I wet my lips. “Titus,” I say softly, and he looks just as terrified as I feel. “I trust you,” I tell him, my voice raw. “But I still don’t know if I can trust myself.”
I expect him to put distance between us again, but he just shakes his head, curses under his breath. “I knew it was too soon,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” I cut across him, my other hand coming up to cradle his face. My chest squeezes. “It’s just… I let myself feel for Will and look what happened! I’d never—I didn’t—” I choke on a sob. My head spins, faster and faster and—
Titus covers my hands with his, his voice gentle yet commanding, prompting me to look him in the eye.
“You deserved someone you could trust with your feelings, not someone who exploited them.” Softly, his touch featherlight, he reaches out, brushing the tears from my cheeks.
“It’s late,” he says, but the words are stilted, his teeth clenched, as if he meant to say something else but decided against it.
“Big day tomorrow.” He takes a step back, and the loss of his warmth, his touch, aches like a fever. “You should get some sleep.”
I don’t move as he turns, blowing out the candles. I’m not sure when the music stopped, but it’s quiet all but for the groan of the ship as it’s rocked by the waves.
He starts for the door, and I lurch, as if to grab hold of him, but my hand lingers in the air.
“Titus?”
His shoulders tense. He doesn’t look back. “Yes, love?”
I drop my hand. “Stay.”
Not a question—not exactly.
He turns. His throat bobs. “All right,” he says, his voice rough.
But as he moves toward the chair in the corner of the room, I grab hold of the wooden post of the bed. Clear my throat.
“Will you…” The words get stuck, tangling themselves into knots. “Will you—” I sit on the edge of the bed with a huff, twisting the sheets in my fist. “I don’t want to be alone,” I say quietly. “Not tonight.”
He goes rigid, his eyes as wide as saucers in the moonlight. He manages a stiff nod.
He waits for me to crawl under the covers before I feel his weight as he eases onto the bed beside me.
“Hold me?” I whisper.
A moment of fear. Of hope. Of wanting.
And then his chest molds to the curve of my spine. His arm curls over my waist, his breath strained, tickling the back of my neck, his warmth encapsulating me.
I melt into sleep, like sinking to the depths of the sea, and for the first time in a long time, there are no nightmares waiting for me in the dark.