THE EMBER CITADEL

CHAPTER 2: FORCED PROXIMITY

"LET GO OFF ME!"

But his hand didn’t move from my wrist.

The black ship was cutting through the water on its own. No sails. No crew. No one at the wheel.

Just... moving. Like it knew where to go.

Ghost ship.

And I was trapped on it.

With him.

"Corin Vey," I said his name like a curse. "Let. Go."

He finally looked down at his hand. Then at me.

And slowly, like I was a wild animal, he let go.

"Sorry," he muttered. The word sounded foreign in his mouth. "Didn’t want you to get shot."

I rubbed my wrist. It was still cold from his fingers. "You could’ve warned me."

"I did. I said run."

He turned away and walked to the middle of the deck. The rain had stopped but the wind was still screaming. His wet coat clung to his shoulders and I hated that I noticed how broad they were.

"Where are we going?" I asked. My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be.

"The Reef of Bones," he said without looking at me. "First Key."

"And why do I care?"

"Because if we don’t get all 3 Keys in 14 days, the Ember Citadel collapses. And when it does, it takes the Gray Sea with it. Including Greyreach."

I went still. "My home."

"Yeah."

"So this is my fault?"

He turned then. His storm-gray eyes were tired. So tired.

"No. It’s mine."

Silence. Only the sound of waves hitting the hull.

He started walking. "Come on. We need to get inside. There’s a storm coming."

The inside of the ship was... normal?

Wooden floors. Lanterns. A small kitchen. And one door.

One.

Door.

"Where’s the rest of the rooms?" I asked, trying not to panic.

He pushed the door open.

One bed.

One table.

One chair.

One blanket.

That was it.

My stomach dropped. "You’re kidding."

"I’m not." He walked in and dropped his sword on the table. "Ship was built for one. I wasn’t expecting company."

"So what, we’re sharing a bed??"

"Floor’s mine," he said immediately. Like he’d already decided. "Take the bed."

I stared at him. "You’re soaked. You’ll get sick."

He shrugged. Took off his coat. And that’s when I saw them.

Scars.

Up and down his arms. Across his back. White and pink and ugly.

Like the sea had tried to rip him apart.

"Don’t," he said quietly when he saw me staring. He grabbed a dry shirt and pulled it on fast.

"Don’t what?"

"Look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m human."

That shut me up.

He sat on the floor and started sharpening his sword. The sound was loud in the small room.

"So," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Far from him. "The King’s cartographer. The traitor. The dead guy."

"Pick one."

"I pick dead guy."

His hand paused. "Fair."

Another long silence.

"Did you..." I swallowed. "Did you suffer? When the ship sank?"

He didn’t answer for a long time.

"Yes," he said finally. "But not as much as your dad."

The air left my lungs.

"What?"

"I mean—" He dropped the sword. "I mean I tried to save him. I did. But the hull collapsed. There was nothing—"

"STOP."

I stood up. My hands were shaking. "Don’t say his name. You don’t get to say his name."

He looked up at me. And God.

He looked broken.

"I know." His voice was barely a whisper. "I don’t deserve to."

I hated that I felt bad for him.

I hated that the coldest guy in the world looked like that because of me.

_BOOM_

The whole ship shook.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" I yelled.

Corin was already on his feet, sword in hand. "Rook."

I ran to the tiny window.

20 ships. Black flags. The King’s crest.

And at the front, Rook.

"Mira!" His voice carried over the water. "Last chance! Come home!"

Corin stepped in front of me. Shielding me.

Without thinking.

"She’s not going anywhere," he said. Cold. Final.

"And you get to decide that?!" Rook shouted back. "You’re the reason her father is dead!"

"Rook—" I started.

"Stay behind me," Corin whispered. Only to me.

I should’ve been mad.

I should’ve pushed him away.

But his hand found mine.

Cold. Shaking.

"Please," he whispered. "Trust me."

And I did.

God help me, I did.

"Full speed," he said to the ship.

The ship obeyed.

We sped away while arrows flew past us. While Rook screamed my name.

Back in the room, both of us were breathing hard.

He let go of my hand immediately. Like it burned him.

"Don’t," he said. "Don’t look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m a hero."

"Then what are you?"

He sat on the floor again. Put his head in his hands.

"A coward. A killer. A man who doesn’t deserve—"

"Corin."

He looked up.

"Thank you," I said. "For not letting them take me."

He stared at me. Like I’d spoken another language.

"You shouldn’t thank me," he said.