And she was. All flushed skin and parted lips. Az’s hand gripped her hair, the other gently brushing over the tips of her sensitive wings. The flame in the sconce spluttered as she blew out a breath, air gusting against the side of the ship.
"That was…" she sighed.
She had been undone all without them truly touching her in the places she would have burned the most.
Bastian softly kissed the mark on her wrist, placing it down gently before he pressed his lips to a bruise on her knee. "Thank you," he breathed against her.
She touched his cheek. "Don’t rely on Az alone. Drink from me, too. When you need blood, you have me," she implored.
Just like that, she offered up the last bits of her trust to him, and Bastian gathered them close to his chest, vowing to never let them break. "I will never drink from you alone, but if your demon agrees, perhaps we can find a way. You liked it?"
"I more than liked it," she shared shyly.
Behind her, Az kissed her cheek. "It’s late. Let’s go to bed."
26
SOMETHING GRAVE
LUELLA
Graves drew away from Luella like the sun drew from the sky as the moon rose to take its place.
Humidity clung to them all, working in tandem with the tension that blanketed their ship amongst the sea. The air lost its chill; the sea lost its icy blue, turning a warm green shade.
On the horizon, the outline of the Isles loomed. Dark and jagged against the fading light of evening.
The sight knotted her stomach.
"Land." Vale’s voice broke the silence, wind whispering an echo of the declaration.
They were all here, standing on the quarterdeck.
Graves lowered the spyglass, hand shaking. He was above them all, a gloveless hand wrapped around ropes, booted feet braced against a post. He fell to the deck with a low thud. "It’s quiet this evening."
"I say we sail in now. Better than waiting here for them to spot us come dawn’s light," Tharen said, crossing his arms.
Though the air had warmed, a shiver ran through Luella. Behind her, Az’s hands traced over her arms, offering warmth.
Bastian stood by the railing, looking out over the sea, his back to her. His voice made her remember that day below deck,when he had knelt before her and tasted her blood. He had not drunk from her in the few days since, but the bruises on her wrist ensured she did not forget.
"It is the best call. Vale, what do you suppose?" Bastian said.
They slipped into their roles with ease.
"Graves, is it wise?" Vale asked the raven shifter.
They all turned to him, and Luella watched as his deep blue eyes fell to hers only briefly, before jerking away, his jaw clenching.
"Waiting is foolish," Graves answered cryptically, "but so is being here." He spoke no more after that.
"Then it is decided. Prepare to anchor." Vale reached for the spyglass, fitting it to his eye. The brass shone, even though the sky was covered with puffy clouds. His golden hair whipped around him. He pointed a long finger, rings glittering. "There, among those rocks. We can hide the ship."
Luella followed the direction he pointed, squinting as she tried to make it out with her weaker fae eyesight. Through her blurred gaze, the Isles loomed as jagged shadows—rocks draped in splashes of dark green. Each shape felt like a silent threat.
And Vale pointed toward a lonesome collection of grey shadows further in the distance.
"Angel, let’s get you hidden," Az grumbled from behind her. He steered her down the steps, helping her walk; though, her lessons with Graves had aided her some. In the last few days, the raven shifter had called them off, growing withdrawn.
