Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Sunlight filtered through my lashes in a soft haze of yellow. For a few heartbeats, I stayed exactly where I was, warm and heavy-limbed under the sheets. Sweet florals and fresh bread touched my senses, wrapping around me as warmly as the morning rays.
The light pressed into my closed eyes, and when I tried to open them, the brightness spilled in too fast, turning everything soft and golden at the edges.
A broad-shouldered silhouette appeared beside the bed, but the face stayed lost in the glare.
I blinked once, twice, and the outline sharpened just enough to show the dark fall of brown hair.
Tan, calloused hands lifted a steaming cup, the smell of roasted coffee wafting between us.
Under it were hints of amber and sea salt with a tang of iron that clung to the air.
My pulse jumped as I narrowed my eyes, raising a hand to shade them from light.
“Who are you?” I asked.
A deep, rich laugh filled the air, and the sound of it resonated with something deep inside me. Flecks of green and blue caught the sunlight, glinting across my vision.
“Playing at this again, are we, Beastie?”
“Wha—who?”
“Corynne,” he said. “It’s time to wake up now.”
“But I—”
“Corynne.”
What was he talking about? I was awake, I was right there, I was already—
“Corynne!”
I gasped, shooting up from bed to find Silas sitting beside me on the mattress.
The dream, or whatever that half-waking haze had been, still clung to the edges of my mind.
For a moment, the sweet scent of florals lingered under the smell of coffee and amber, and then it faded, leaving only the landscape of reality behind.
“Good morning, Beastie,” he murmured before proffering a tray. “We make landfall before midday. You’ll need to eat.”
For a moment, I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. The domestic act of breakfast in bed surprised me. I was positive last night he was trying to distance himself for an inevitable goodbye…
The ideas warred, my mind stumbling between them.
“Perhaps,” I started, “I could wake up first?”
The corner of his mouth moved, though whatever almost-smile had tried to form never quite made it.
Silas set the tray across my lap, each movement slow and intentional until it rested there just so.
The warm smell of fresh-baked bread and sweet, dried fruits enveloped me.
Wedges of cheese were placed among the assorted meats, and steam billowed from the cup of freshly roasted coffee.
Had he done all of this? For…me?
I wrapped my hands around the cup simply to have something solid to hold onto.
The heat seeped into my palms, a grounding sensation against the swirling uncertainty.
Looking up, my eyes caught on his wet hair and freshly shaven face.
I’d never seen him without the scruff. His jawline was sharp and angular, strong even for a gruff man.
I followed it down the column of his neck, watching as he worked to swallow, and then to the hollow beneath his throat.
A spattering of brown chest hair curled on perfectly defined pectorals—
“Eat,” he said, startling me from my visual journey down his body.
My cheeks heated in a way that had nothing to do with the steam from the coffee.
He rose without another word, taking the fresh smell of soap and amber oil with him as he moved to the porthole, giving me the broad line of his back.
I picked up a piece of bread and brought it to my lips, the aroma filling my lungs.
The butter melted instantly, a creamy counterpoint to the slight tang of the cheese.
Each bite felt like a small act of defiance against the storm of my own thoughts.
He’d done this, this elaborate gesture of normalcy, while I was bracing for the end of everything.
It was a kindness so profound it bordered on cruelty.
The care in his actions sat uneasily beside the distance he was building since he told me the Stella Mortis would be mine.
His gaze continued to stay fixed on the endless expanse of the ocean. I set the cup down when the silence had stretched on long enough.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said to the line of his shoulders. “Whatever speech you’ve prepared about setting me free and doing the right thing, you can keep it. I never asked you to become noble.”
That brought him around at last. “You think this is nobility?”
“I think you’re rewriting the ending before we’ve even reached the last page.
” I pushed the tray aside and stood, crossing the space between us until the clean scent of soap and amber oil filled my lungs.
“I think you’re so accustomed to losing pieces of yourself that you’ve decided the only way to protect what remains is to push me away so that the curse can’t use me against you. ”
“Corynne.”
Silas’s jaw tightened. For a moment, he just looked at me like a man measuring the exact cost of every word he planned to spend. Then he framed my face with a carefulness that hurt worse than any bruising grip and kissed me once, soft and brief.
“Get dressed. We’ll be arriving soon.” He took a purposeful step back before walking out of the cabin. The door clicked behind him with a finality I felt deep in my bones.
I wanted to argue with him, scream at the top of my lungs and throw shit until he listened to me.
Yet, I let him go. And it was the hardest thing I’d done since I’d ended up on this godsforsaken ship.
A fresh set of clothes lay folded upon the desk. It was another powder-blue dress, the neckline embroidered with floral lace that extended down the length of the bodice until it met a full, flowing skirt. He seems to prefer the color blue on me.
“You’re so sweet,” I grumbled to the door. “So sweet that I both want to fuck you and throw you overboard for the sharks.”
I picked up the dress and shook it, but stopped when a heavy clink hit the boards at my feet.
“What in the…”
I tossed the dress aside, bending to inspect what could have possibly—
My breath hitched, stuck in my throat as I fingered the belt strewn across my feet.
Ship rope was knotted in a delicate diamond pattern with sea glass strung throughout.
Some of it I recognized as part of the bundle I purchased on Deadveil, but other pieces I’d not seen before.
They were deep cerulean and sapphire with a topaz and deeper teal sprinkled throughout.
A few longer strands of rope hung free at the ends, the glass clinking softly against itself when I lifted the belt into my hands.
The knots were tight and even, the glass worked in with patience and purpose.
He’d made this.
Maybe while I’d slept? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that he’d sat somewhere, with rope and the remaining beads, and fashioned a belt just for me.
I set it gently on the desk and slipped the dress over my head.
Squeezing into the stays without loosening the laces was a feat all on its own, but I wasn’t worried about it at the moment.
When it was settled, my breasts lifted to my chin and my hips looked curvier than they ever had.
I picked the belt back up and wrapped it around my waist. My fingers trembled as I secured it.
I twirled gently, watching the hanging strands shift and chime against the fabric of my skirts.
I caught my reflection in the small cracked mirror above the washbasin and barely recognized the woman looking back.
Her cheeks were flushed with health, the circles under her eyes no longer gaunt, and she was twirling in a dress a bloody pirate had chosen adorned with a belt he’d crafted just for her.
A ghost of a smile touched my lips. This was not the life I had ever envisioned, nor the one I had so desperately sought. Yet, as the sea glass sang its quiet song against my hips, a strange peace settled within me, a calm that felt as deep and vast as the ocean itself.
No matter what happened after this, I would see to it that Silas and I both got our happy ending.
By the time I stepped onto the deck, the air had changed.
It was no longer the fresh breeze that rolled off the water as we sailed through it, but thinner and charged with electricity that sizzled as if a storm were about to break.
The vast expanse of the sea was gone, broken by a dark line of land that rose above the water, half swallowed by the mist.
My exhale was sharp as a memory nagged at the edges of my mind. For a dizzy second, I was certain I had stood on that shore before and lost a vital piece of myself. The certainty faded as quickly as it came, leaving only an unsettled feeling beneath my skin.
I joined Silas at the helm of the ship. He did not look at me as I stepped to his side. Not that I’d expected him to. He was already letting go.
Shouts rang out from the crew as they prepared the ship.
The creak of the anchor chain was a mournful sound, a final protest before the descent into the unknown.
Silas finally turned his gaze to mine and in his eyes I saw not just resignation, but a flicker of something akin to hope.
It was a dangerous thing to entertain, but as the mist swallowed the ship, hope was all we had.
The jagged cliffs loomed closer, and I could now discern faint lights, like scattered embers, clinging to the darkness.
We were here. The promise of release from the endless, suffocating cycle lay just ahead.
I could do this for him. I can find a way for us both.