Page 93 of Cursebreaker

I brace myself, my jaw set.

But they’re not running toward me.

Mother’s steps stutter a few paces before she reaches Owen, and I think she might drop to her knees as she sways. But Father never slows down. He nearly tackles Owen, throwing his arms around him in a forceful embrace.

“My son!” Father laughs. Weeps. Kisses the top of Owen’s head. “You’re home—my son—”

Mother staggers toward him. She touches Owen’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks. I don’t hear what she says, but a moment later, a violent sob bursts from Owen’s chest.

My feet move before I realize I’ve taken a step.

“You should join them,” Titus murmurs, his grip on my hand loosening.

But I shake my head. “I’ll just get in the way.”

I face Orella again, watching me with a sad sort of smile.

“Follow me,” she says, already starting down the docks, toward the Pearl. “We’ve had a room prepared for you, Your Majesty,” she adds, winking at Titus over her shoulder.

I don’t let go of Titus’s hand. Not when we approach the doors of the Pearl. Not even as we’re led up the stairs, down various hallways, and across multiple bridges of the palace.

Every few minutes, I’m reminded that he’s experiencing all this for the first time.

I watch as he tips his head back, inhaling the sweet aroma of grilled pineapple, his eyes drifting shut, and I can’t help but wish we could stay. I want to explore the city of Ember with him—want to watch the sunset on the beach, want to listen to the lullaby of the waves as the tide laps at the shore. I just… want.

Him. This. More time.

It’s as if Orella knows where my thoughts have gone. “How soon are you leaving?” she asks, a crease forming between her brows.

I let out a long, arduous exhale. “We’re staying only long enough to restock our supplies.”

She nods slowly, her mouth taut, but she doesn’t argue—doesn’t try to persuade us to prolong our visit. Finally, she stops in front of the door to my chambers.

“You should get cleaned up,” she says, cutting her eyes at Titus’s hand.

But Titus doesn’t let go. And neither do I.

“Don’t worry,” Orella says with a wry grin, looping her arm through Titus’s. “I’ll make sure he finds his way back to you.”

Titus chuckles, and as his hand slips from mine, as they round the corner, I think I hear him say, “Nothing could stop me from finding my way back to her.”

I rest my hand on the doorframe, tracing the grooves of the weathered wood—wood that was salvaged from my grandfather’s ship, the Sunseeker.

When I open the door, Bellaflor is there, sitting in the chair by the window with Killian’s bloodhound, Dinah, curled up at her feet.

Dinah’s tail wags as Bellaflor stands, drawing me into a hug that says more than words ever could. “Bath,” she orders, and I don’t protest.

After weeks spent at sea, I would do anything for a hot bath.

I sink into the warm water, my skin buzzing as my power washes over me like a gentle wave. It feels like hours go by before I rise from the bath and dress in the linen shirt and loose, flowing trousers Bellaflor left for me. I’ve just pulled on my boots when there’s a knock at the door.

“May I come in?” Father’s voice.

“Yes.” I barely get the word out, already moving toward the door.

I’ve managed to hold it together in front of my siblings, but I fall apart in my father’s arms.

“You found it,” he says, half-laughing, half-crying. “I knew you could do it.”