I frown, propping myself up on my elbow. “You asked her to run away? When was this?”
He chews on the inside of his cheek. “Before things changed between us. When we first took her. I told her I would leave you all behind and take her away from all this.”
I feel a stab of pain in my chest when he says it, but I understand it. Kye wasn’t on the Naiad because hewantedto be. It was his best choice.
It wasn’t a good one.
“And then I asked her again even when you and I had gotten involved,” he says, and this time, his voice shakes. “I thought…things had changed between us, but I thought I could make her happy by myself. And every time, she said no.”
My stomach churns. I feel sick—at the idea of losing him, at the idea of losing both of them. The worst part is that there’s a part of me that knows this would be for the best, that they would maybe be happier if they didn’t have to do all of this. I reach out to touch his cheek, and he leans into my touch, his breath shuddering against me.
“I have asked you for too much,” I say. “Both of you.”
“No,” he says. “That’s what I didn’t understand before; the world, your people, they have asked you for too much. I mean, of course you’re a dick, you’re always under enormous pressure.”
I laugh. “Okay,nowI’m getting mad.”
He laughs too. “I would never leave now,” he says. “I would never leave you behind, to be clear. I love you so much.”
I open my mouth to answer him, but he shakes his head.
“No, don’t,” he says. “I don’t need you to say it back, I just need to get this off my chest.”
“I’m listening.”
“When I first met you, you were egotistical and selfish. You could be cruel,” he says. “Now you’re a bit full of yourself, don’t get me wrong—”
“Are you getting satisfaction out of insulting me?”
“I amnotinsulting you,” he emphasizes. “You have grown into a selfless, wise man. Watching you turn into who you are has been one of my favorite experiences in my entire life.”
I don’t normally blush, but I can feel my cheeks redden at the intensity in his words, at the way his eyes look when he says the words.
“When I met Fiona, she was stubborn and driven,” he says. “Smart, adaptable, kind. Good. And watching her become who she’s becoming? Kissing her might feel like it did when we first met years ago, but I’m not kissing the same person. I assume becoming queen of a species does things to your psyche, but fuck. It just feels like it used to. But that’s not who I’m kissing. This is a stranger. She’s cruel. I don’tknowher. And that scares the daylights out of me.”
I shake my head. “That’s not true,” I say. “She could run away, too; if she were cruel, she wouldn’t care about helping us at all.”
“That’s the thing,” he mutters. I have to strain to hear him, mostly because this feels far more like a confession than anything else he’s said so far. “Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed by myself, or I can hear her fucking another guy in the crew—I think that she doesn’t care about helping at all. I think all she cares about is being queen.”
My heart drops. “That’s not true,” I say, but the conviction with which he’s speaking is making it hard for me to argue. “Fiona is doing her best.”
And I can’t say the words, but I’m starting to wonder if he truly doubts her judgement…or if he’s just angry that she chose this life over running away with him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FIONA
For some reason, I thought things would change with Kye as soon as we got back to the ship.
Apparently, I was wrong.
As things start to wind down for the evening, Kye is back to ignoring me, staying isolated in the cockpit and talking quietly with Nereus. I know I should give him time to work things out—a lot has happened between us—but I’ve never been a patient girl. So I’m more than a little frustrated when I head to my quarters for the night, exhausted from the day’s events but more irritated than anything else. It’s quiet in the halls of the Wrath, the other crew going about their business, the night shift taking care of things around the ship.
There’s someone waiting for me at the hatch to my room.
Orion leans against the wall, his tail twitching and a single talon clicking against the floor. My eyes widen when I remember our conversation from earlier—and what I promised him for the night. “I’m so sorry I forgot,” I say. “I hope you weren’t waiting.”
“Hm…” he drones, the frill on his head shuddering slightly. I’ve come to learn that it’s something like a smile—though those are hard to read on his face. “My queen ordered me to be here, so I’m here. It’s her right to keep me waiting.”