He leans against the mast, arms crossed, looking far too handsome for someone I’m absolutely still furious with. “Are you sure you don’t mean theMen I’d Throttle If They Weren’t So Devastatingly Attractivelist?”
“You wish,” I mutter.
“I do. In fact, I’ve been imagining the throttling.”
His eyes rake over me when he says it. Not crude. Not even cocky. Just a low, smoldering promise that pools heat low in my stomach.
And God help me, my body answers. A flush creeps up my throat, hot and traitorous.
He crosses the space between us, and before I can stop him, his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear in a touch that feels like it knows every version of me—the furious one, the afraid one, the one who still remembers how he tasted.
I do everything in my power not to lean into him.
The moment stretches, tight and trembling, his face so close, the warmth of his breath blowing against my cheek. My lips part before I realize they have, my whole body tilted toward him like a compass needle seeking north.
I’m going to kiss him.
I want to kiss him.
I want to fall, just for a second, into the deliciousness of him.
But my rational brain slices through the haze like cold steel.
“No.” The word leaves my mouth too quickly. I takea step back and grip the ropes along the bow. “We’re not doing this.”
“Gemma, I just—”
“I need your help,” I cut in, sharper than I mean to. Work mode. War mode. Anything-but-feelings mode.
“Glad to see I’ve been promoted from irredeemable liar,” Alderic says, that too-handsome mouth tugging into the ghost of a smirk.
My eyes narrow. “This doesn’t mean we’re good. We’re going to work together. Professionally. Cleanly. No more secrets.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“I can’t trust you.”
Something in his expression flinches. Barely. But I see it.
“Tell me what you need.” He doesn’t sound hurt. But he doesn’t sound not-hurt either.
Good. Let him sit with it.
His smile fades as I lay it out—every sharp-edged piece of the plan. How he, posing as Alder, who’s still very much posing as him, will infiltrate Delphara’s inner circle. How he’ll charm her, fool the priest, and slip into places only Alder has access to. How he’ll collect notes, orders, anything we can use to shatter their reign from the inside out.
And how, at the ceremony—before they can kill another girl—we’ll reveal everything. In front of the nobles. The court. The people.
“You’ll take Alder’s place,” I finish. “She trusts him. Likes him. Thinks she can control him. Use that. Saywhatever she needs to hear, get what we need. Then we burn the whole damn house down.”
Alderic is quiet for a beat too long.
“You’re serious,” he says finally.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” I cross my arms. “You said I have to help this kingdom if I want to get home. That’s what I’m doing.”
