hold of his hand, squeezing it briefly, just once. Before I can let nerves get the better of me, I say, “Get this ship on course, and then meet me in your cabin. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Stepping into the captain’s quarters feels like walking into a memory. I cross the floor, heart heavy as I eye the luxurious four-poster bed and the warm flicker of the oil lamp, which reminds me both of my and Bastian’s first real kiss, and of the days I spent down here after I first lost my magic.
My fingers trail along Bastian’s desk, admiring the atlases and maps strewn neatly across it, organized in a way I know only him to be. His closet is color coded with fashions from each of the islands, with shoes carefully lined beneath them according to height and style. Seeing them like that, not an inch out of place, I smile. As abrasive as Bastian can be, it’s charming how meticulous he is with his belongings.
Every passing minute feels like an hour as I make my way to his bed, sitting cross-legged upon the navy sheets. I’ve tucked the snake scale away in my room so that I’m no longer tempted to touch it, so there’s nothing here to distract me from the nerves roiling within me, making me pick at the skin around my fingernails, peeling until they bleed.
When the door to the captain’s quarters cracks open, those nerves leap to my throat, thickening it so fiercely I fear I may never speak again. Bastian shuts the door behind him, the fall of his boots slow as he makes his way down the creaking wooden stairs. His throat bobs when he sees me, and he hesitates.
“I know you’re going through a lot, and I’m sorry for it.” He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, careful to give me space. “But … you know you can talk to us, right? Any one of us. We’re all here for you.”
Bastian must sense my nerves, because he reaches out a cautious hand. Pressing my lips together, I take it, lacing my fingers through his. The moment our skin touches, a weight lifts from my chest and shoulders. I can breathe easier against him.
And though I’ve hated this fact, now I lean into it, wanting to sear the feeling of his touch into my memory.
“I’ve hated this past season, you know,” I say softly. “I hated making myself stay away from you.”
Something in his demeanor cracks. His breaths are too sharp, and his grip softens in mine. “Amora…”
I shake my head before he can say anything more, and push onto my knees. Eyes never straying from his, I close the space between us, waiting for him to stiffen. To hesitate. To tell me that after everything I’ve put him through, I’m not welcome.
But Bastian does none of these things. Rather than push me away, his hands find my hips and help pull me onto his lap. As my legs kick over his hips to straddle him, his hazel eyes glint with hunger and his grip on my hips tightens.
“You’re going to have to tell me what we’re doing here.” His words are husky and low. “I don’t want to misread you.”
I press my hips firmly against his, stroking my fingers through his hair as his head rolls back with a low groan. “There’s nothing to misread. I’m terrified of the things I feel for you, Bastian Altair. But to say that I felt none of these things before my soul was cursed to you is a lie. I wanted you then, and by the gods, I want you now. But only if you still want me, too. I won’t blame you if you don’t.”
But please, please do.
He looks me over, as if taking in what he’s being presented with and trying to determine whether it’s real. Eventually, his confident eyes meet mine. “I want you, Amora. All of you. Now and forever, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
There’s a sweetness in those words I wasn’t expecting, and it’s jarring. This isn’t how any of my previous nights with men have gone. They’d all been a series of tangled limbs and wanting bodies, pressed together to satiate a temporary hunger. None of them had ever satisfied this desperate hunger I have now. This bone-deep want.
No one else has ever looked at me the way he does.
“All of you,” Bastian repeats firmly, not daring to look