“He wants me to kiss you,” Avery says, stating the obvious.
As we lean forward, all I can think is: Does the kiss make it real?
Avery hesitates when we are near enough our lips brush. Is he wondering the same thing? Is he regretting everything that led us to this moment?
His hand cups the back of my neck, gentle and warm. His eyes search mine, as if again, he’s asking for permission. This close, I notice the green flecks in the amber, the dark brown outer rims of his irises. I give him an almost imperceptible nod.
“Just a show,” he breathes, both reminding himself and promising me. Then he presses his lips to mine, and my mind goes blissfully blank. His kiss lingers, not as chaste as I’ve always thought a wedding kiss should be, and when he pulls away, I’m out of breath.
Perhaps the ceremony was a show, but that kiss was real.
***
It’s strange to me that the people don’t seem to care that I married a different man, the foreign man I arrived with and not their handsome prince. Avery met their requirements for honor, and now the people are free to while the night away, happily enjoying the reception and the food and drink that comes with it.
I sit by Avery’s side, saying very little, still a bit stunned. I haven’t decided if we’re married or not. We said the words; we kissed. Avery promised it was a show, but it certainly did not feel that way when we stood in front of the king, making vows neither of us understood.
Judging from his near silence, Avery may be pondering the same things. I glance at him from the corner of my eye and catch him looking at me. We both look away.
Avery chuckles under his breath and then squeezes my hand. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
I laugh and murmur my agreement.
A woman comes up, smiling coyly, and fills our glasses. I take a sip and cringe. It’s ghastly stuff, and it stings on the way down. I’ve never had anything like it, and I don’t ever want it again. Yet, I drain half my goblet in one gulp.
“You should slow down,” Avery warns, laughing through his warning. “You’re not accustomed to drinking.”
After working in various taverns all across Kalae, I’ve developed a distaste for strong alcohol. But I can’t stop thinking, and I have no idea how to dull the worry, so I self-medicate. I’m sure I’ll regret it in the morning, but the sun is down, and I have an entire night to get through.
Avery ends up taking the goblet away, and I glare at him, ready to argue.
“Lucia.” He places his hands gently on my cheeks and makes me look at him. His smile is warm and heartbreaking. “You look like you’re about to hyperventilate. I need you to breathe.”
The world is already a bit fuzzy around the edges. The drink should take the edge off, but I don’t think I like the sensation.
“Are you all right?” he asks after a moment, and that smile reaches his eyes.
“Are we married?” I blurt out. “Tell me the truth; do you think we are?”
The captain—my possible husband—drops his hands, moves them to my shoulders. He doesn’t answer.
“Avery?”
“I don’t know.”
“It felt real,” I whisper.
“It did,” he agrees, stroking a finger down my cheek.
We don’t exchange a single word for the rest of the party. I’m in my world; he’s in his. Eventually, a whole procession of people pulls us from our table. They take us by the hands and lead us out of the room. They laugh and sing and dance as they walk. We are their guests, and they have taken us in. Never have I met a warmer people.
But part of me wishes we hadn’t ended up in that net. Another part wants to know where they’re leading us.
They toss open a set of double doors, and my breath catches in my lungs. The crowd pushes us into the room, toward the gorgeous, silken bed and its plethora of plush pillows. The women kiss my cheeks, looking at me earnestly, telling me not to be frightened. I don’t have to understand their words to know.
The men clasp Avery on the shoulders, congratulating him.
And then they’re gone.
And we’re alone.
And I cannot breathe.
“You must be exhausted,” Avery says after several tense moments. “Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
They’ve left night clothes on the coverlet. I pick up the gauzy fabric and laugh under my breath, completely flustered. I will not be wearing that tonight.
Avery comes up behind me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the heat of him. “I keep trying to think of something to say that will lighten the mood, take away the tension—make this right. But I have nothing.”
It’s easier to talk when I’m not looking at him.
“I keep telling myself this isn’t real.” I move my hand backward, brush my fingers against his, and lower my voice to a whisper. “Because…I think some part of me wants it to be.”
He goes perfectly still, and the words hang in the air between us. I grit my teeth, chastising myself. I shouldn’t have said that.
Slowly, his fingers leave mine. I’m about to walk away, attempt to laugh the words off, when his hand so very gently settles on my bare shoulder. Without a word, he turns me so I’m facing him.
I lick my lips, terrified, exhilarated, as I stare at his chest. Not his face—I can’t look at his face.
“Why can’t it be?” he finally asks.
My eyes fly up, and I gape at him. “Yesterday you said—”
He leans close, cutting me off, and whispers against my lips, “Yesterday, you were not my wife.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Might as Well be Thorough
“Avery…”
“For tonight, let’s pretend.” His words are silk, and I want nothing more than to give into them. “Our world is leagues away. For once, let’s pretend it doesn’t exist. There’s only you and me, and I swear I will be content with just this one night.”
He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head to the side so his lips brush my cheek. “And when we crawl through that cave? What then? What we do here can’t be undone.”
I want to give in—I do, and I would if I had no doubts the ceremony was binding. But I do have doubts.
Groaning, Avery pulls me into his arms and rests his chin on my shoulder. “You’re right.”
He wasn’t supposed to give in that easily.
Closing my eyes, I rest against him, take comfort in his strength and height. I didn’t sleep at all last night, and he’s so comfortable, so safe. Exhaustion overwhelms me. Unable to help myself, I yawn.
“You are tired,” he murmurs.
Before I can answer, he leans down, scoops me into his arms, and deposits me on the bed. It’s like a cloud. I groan as I settle against the pillows. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”
Avery smirks from the bedside. “Temptress.”
I fix my gaze on him. “Lie with me tonight, Captain Greybrow—just to rest, nothing that will make this more complicated than it is. There’s something depressing about sleeping alone on one’s wedding night.”
He watches me, and I can see the indecision in his eyes. “All right.”
After another moment, he sits beside me. My heart flutters, though I remind myself nothing will happen between us. He stretches out, clasps his hands behind his head, and sighs.
I roll over so I can look at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“You’ve finally gotten me into your bed, and you want to play question games?” He grins at the ceiling, and I poke him in the side. He lets out an exaggerated groan and rolls toward me so we’re facing.
“When we met, were you really planning on taking the orchids?” I ask. “All those moments we shared—were any of them real?”
Because if they weren’t, surely this can’t be either.
He plays with my fingers, tapping my knuckles. “No, I didn’t plan on stealing the orchids in the beginning. I was angry when I said that.”
I raise an eyebr
ow and wait because I can tell there’s more. He did put a tracking spell on me, after all.
“After you’d collected them,” he continues with a guilty smirk, “I was going to offer to buy the lot from you at the price you were expecting and then sell them for triple that.”
Laughing, I smack his hand and then pull him back when he tries to retreat. “That’s horrible.”
Avery scoots closer. “It’s good business.”
Now my knee touches his leg.
“They were real,” he says quietly. “Real to me, anyway.”
I want to kiss him. I want to love him and be loved by him, and I want this to be.
“What happens when we get back?” I ask.
Avery closes his eyes and scoots closer. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re not going back. We’re going to stay here forever.”
“Well, their clothing is certainly more freeing.”
He lazily cracks his eyes open. “Yes, I know that’s why I like your outfit. Because you look so comfortable.”
Somehow, his hand has found my hip. His fingers toy with the bare skin at my side, and I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation.
“First, we’re going to sail to Mesilca,” he says, going back to my question. “Then we’re going to throw the ruby at Duke Eldemyer’s head—”
“That might not be the best way to mend alliances.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
He says it like he truly means it, and that worries me. I don’t have time to think about it though, because his palm finds my side, and his skin is like fire, the kind you’d happily let consume you.
“Then we’re going to find a church.” His tone changes. Instead of light and teasing, it’s intent. “And we’re going to ask the bishop if this ceremony was binding instead of assuming it is not.”
My heart rate picks up. “And if it was?”
His hands travel to my back, and he pulls me closer, until we’re almost touching. “Then you’re mine.”
I hate to ask. “And if it isn’t?”
“Then I suppose you’ll want to give my idiot cousin one more chance.”
I sit up, angry. “Why would you think that? He didn’t want me, Avery. Don’t you understand that? You were there.”
Avery groans. “I don’t know what this thing is between you two—I don’t think you even know. But it’s there, and it must be dealt with. I would like nothing more than to take you away and never look back, but I can’t do that because he’ll always be there in the back of your mind, firmly placed in your heart. You’ll always ask yourself what if. This is something you and Sebastian must resolve.”
He practically snarls the name.
“And if by some miracle, he’s had a change of heart, and he suddenly wants me, you’ll walk away?” I ask, incredulous and a bit miffed. “Just like that.”
Avery’s jaw goes tight. “If that’s what you want.”
The mood has changed, and I know there will be no more than sleeping tonight—no more caresses, no more playful banter. I lie back and let my mind wander, thinking over what he said. Just when I feel myself drifting, Avery clasps my hand and squeezes it.
“Sweet dreams, Lucia,” he murmurs.
“You too, Captain.”
I smile against the pillow and let sleep take me.
***
After a hearty goodbye, we leave the village the next morning. We exchange more gifts—I give the girls who waited on me a few more trinkets, and Kaiu gives Avery a spear. It still amazes me there are no hard feelings.
We walk through the jungle for days, making camp at night. It seems the daylight hours pass quicker the closer we get to our destination. Our time on the island is slipping away.
Today, we will reach the cavern. It’s rainy, and clouds have settled low over the ocean ledge. Avery walks quickly, and I know he’s eager to be back to the Serpent.
“Why do you think Kaiu thought we should be married?” I ask Avery as we walk. We’re nearing the caves, and I find myself reluctant to leave the island.
“You gave him a ring. I’m sure they saw it as some kind of grand sign, especially when it contained magic,” Avery stops to look at the clouds above us. “And I realized why their architecture seemed familiar. I think they’re decedents of Ellusian explorers. Their ancestors probably found the island hundreds of years ago.”
“Of course.” I think back to their village, to their manor house. “And that’s how you knew to challenge him for my hand? Because of their ancient customs?”
“Knew would be a stretch.”
The first raindrops fall. They’re sporadic, but the sky looks as if it will open up any moment. A strong wind picks up over the island, and it tugs at my braid, whipping strands free and tossing them in my face.
We reach the cavern, and both of us hesitate outside. Once we pass through, this will all be behind us. Everything that’s happened here, everything we’ve shared—it won’t be the same on the other side.
Avery glances at the sky, and he takes off his pack.
“I think it would be best to change out here—just so we don’t draw the attention of more of our tarantula friends.” He looks over and frowns in a way that seems more like a smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I make a split-second decision. Standing on my tiptoes, I grab a fistful of his shirt, yank him close, and crush my lips to his. He sucks in a startled breath but recovers in record time and pulls me toward him. He smells like the island and feels like paradise.
When I pull back, he looks dumbstruck and disheveled. It’s a good look on him.
“What was that?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining—”
Grinning, I press my fingers over his lips. He raises a tawny eyebrow in question.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when we cross to the other side of the whirlpool. Life has a habit of getting in the way. But here, it’s you and me. And these were the best eight days of my life.”
Softly, I press another quick kiss to his lips and then walk toward the entrance of the cavern.
“Well, then we might as well be thorough.” Before I’m out of reach, Avery catches my hand and pulls me back.
Startled, I begin to laugh, but the sound is quickly cut off by his lips. His hands are in my hair, mine are yanking him closer. The kiss is a bit wild, frantic, and we both know what it is.
A goodbye.
Things will never be the same, and we acknowledge that. But we had this, and it was beautiful and bright and perfect.
A part of me stumbled in love with the captain on this voyage, and no matter what comes, a part of me will always love him.
We break apart and stare at each other for several moments. Avery nods once as if to say, “that is that.”
And then Captain Greybrow motions me into the cavern. “After you.”
***
Blinking, I crawl out of the rocky tunnel and stumble onto the sandy islet. Not far off, the Greybrow Serpent rides the waves, waiting for its captain to return. I turn around and offer Avery my hand, and he pulls himself up.
“We’re back.” He stretches his arms high over his head and stares into the distance. His short trousers are still wet from the swim through the underwater cavern, and a stray bead of water runs down his calf. His legs have become tan in the last few days.
We managed to avoid the eels this time. I also retrieved my light charm, which was an unexpected bonus—not that it was difficult to locate seeing as how it was glowing and all.
“Yes, it appears we are.”
The storm is picking up, and the clouds are growing darker. Sand kicks up, and I close my eyes as it flies in my face.
“We need to go before it’s too dangerous to take the dinghy across the water, but you might want to change first.”
I nod, pull new clothes from my pack, and change when he turns. I stare at the island bodice for a moment and finger the soft, damp material. Then I shake my head, close my pack, and follow Avery to the bo
at. Within fifteen minutes, we’re making our way back to the Serpent. We don’t talk. I don’t think either of us knows what to say.
The last few days feel like a dream.
A great cry goes up when we reach the ship. The boys pull us up, and we’re surrounded, crushed against a dozen burly sailor chests. Flink runs up and down the deck, bounding like a puppy.
“Was your mission a successful one, Captain?” the boatswain calls.
Avery meets my eyes. “It went far better than expected.”
I grin as I’m hugged and congratulated, passed along from one crew member to the next. When I turn, I almost run into Yancey.
“So, you’ve returned.” He scowls, but he looks impressed. Well, he looks impressed for Yancey.
“We have.”
Begrudgingly, Yancey offers his hand. “Congratulations, Pirate Girl.”
Rolling my eyes, I accept his olive branch. “Are you going to teach me to manipulate wind now?”
He watches me for a moment, frowning. “We’ll see.”
“Oh! That reminds me. I have a present for you.”
His eyebrows knit, and he looks both uncomfortable and embarrassed. I pull several of my foraged trinkets from my pouch, including a few of the odd mushrooms. “I don’t know what it all is, but I thought you might be able to use them for your alchemy studies. I’ve never seen anything like them—so don’t waste them. I’m not crawling through that tunnel again.”
Yancey clutches the gift, and he looks a little overwhelmed. “Thank you, I suppose.”
I flash him a bright smile and make my way toward my cabin, where I intend to sleep for the next forty-eight hours at least.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
We Should Have Stayed in the Whirlpool
I’m roused from my slumber by a knock at the door, but it’s a welcome intrusion. My dreams were haunting me, replaying memories from my childhood and those from the island. I sit up, groggy, with the feeling of waking from a nightmare.
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 17
