Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 69

The burning desire deflates, leaving behind a cold, hollow wave of embarrassment. I look around the captain's quarters—at the leather-bound logs, the navigation charts, the pristine authority of it all—and I feel incredibly, deeply foolish. I was standing here like a prize waiting to be claimed, completely forgetting that he is the captain of this ship first, and everything else second. Silas's words echo bitterly in my head again: trying to break each other's heart like every other Tuesday. I swallow the lump of pride rising in my throat. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself for a brief second, I force the vulnerability down until it’s locked away.

I pull my shoulders back, straighten the fabric of my shirt, and brush a stray hair out of my face. My expression hardens into a mask of pure, unbothered indifference.

I walk to the heavy oak door, push it open without a sound, and step back out into the narrow corridor. When I climb the companionway stairs and step out onto the main deck, the cool, grey sea wind hits my face, shocking the last of the flush from my cheeks. I don't look toward the quarterdeck. I don't look for green eyes. I just walk straight back to my duties, my stride even and completely detached, as if I hadn't just offered him everything in the dark.

I head straight back down into the mid-deck, ignoring the lingering scent of rain and cedar that still haunts the stairway. My movements are sharp, efficient, and entirely devoid of the warmth that was there just minutes ago.

I lift the heavy wooden box of polished pulleys and metal rigging items. The wood bites into my palms, the weight solid and grounding, a welcome distraction from the burning embarrassment still twisting in my gut. I grip the edges until my knuckles turn white, hoisting it up against my chest, and make my way back up to the main deck to find Boulder.

"Here," I say, my voice flat and completely leveled as I find the large man near the forward mast. I set the box down with a heavy, hollow thud on the deck boards near his boots. "The rust is gone. They're ready to be re-strung."

Boulder looks up from the thick rope he’s splicing, his broad, weather-beaten face registering a bit of surprise at my sudden, intense efficiency. He looks down at the pristine pulleys, then back up at me, sensing the icy wall I've built around myself.

"Aye... thanks, Red," he mutters, scratching his beard. "Good work. Fast, too."

"Just doing my job," I reply smoothly, wiping my hands on my trousers as if wiping away the last hour entirely. I keep my back straight, refusing to look toward the helm, refusing to see if Kaelen is watching. I am completely, utterly checked out. Let him have his ship.

"By the way, Boulder," I say, my voice dropping lower, sounding far meeker than I intend. I look down at my boots, unable to keep up the fierce, unbothered facade for a second longer under his observant gaze. "Have you got any other tasks for me to do?"

The giant smith pauses, his thick fingers freezing over the rope he’s splicing. He looks at me, really looks at me, his rugged face softening with a heavy, quiet understanding. Boulder has been on this ship a long time; he knows how to read the weather, and he certainly knows how to read the atmosphere between the crew.

"I do, Red," a deep, gravelly voice interrupts from right behind me.

My heart stops.

I don't even have to turn around to know it’s Kaelen. His voice is dangerously quiet, stripped of the commanding captain’s boom he uses for the crew, but carrying a heavy, vibrating weight that sends a sharp tremor straight down my spine.

Boulder looks past my shoulder at Kaelen, gives a slow, knowing nod, and casually picks up his tools. "Think the Captain's got you covered, lass," the big man mutters, already stepping away to give us a wide berth.

I brace myself, my chest tightening as Kaelen steps into my line of sight. He isn't wearing his coat anymore, just his linen shirt, and his hair is thoroughly windblown. But it's his eyes that make my breath hitch. They aren't cold, and the walls aren't up. They are burning with a fierce, desperate intensity, tracking the exact moment my aloof mask cracks.

"In my cabin," Kaelen says softly, his gaze locked onto my face, refusing to let me look away. "There’s a ledger that needs sorting. And a conversation we are going to finish."

"I was there," I say softly, the raw embarrassment cutting through my voice before I can stop it. I keep my eyes trained on the wooden grain of the deck boards, refusing to look up at him. "I was there for a while. I didn't see anything that needed to be done."

The words hang in the space between us, heavy with the unspoken truth of what I actually meant: I waited for you, and you didn't show up.

Kaelen flinches. It's subtle, but I catch the sharp, sudden intake of his breath. The silence stretches for a moment, the steady thrum of the ship the only thing filling the gap, before he takes a deliberate step closer. The heat radiating off him is a physical presence, blocking out the chill of the open sea.

"Iris," he says, his voice dropping into a low, rough cadence that vibrates right through me. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my jawline, gently but firmly nudging my chin upward until I'm forced to look into his eyes.

They are wide, dark, and completely unguarded—filled with a desperate kind of frustration that matches exactly what I felt minutes ago.

"Silas caught a bad rip in the secondary rigging while we were turning," he explains quietly, his thumb tracing a slow line across my cheekbone. "If I had walked away right then, the main mast would have splintered. I had to secure the ship. But the moment I was done..." He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to my lips before snapping back to my eyes. "I went down there. The door was open, and you were gone."

He steps even closer, his chest nearly brushing against mine, completely ignoring the fact that we are still standing on the open deck. "Don't hide from me. Not after that."

My eyes flutter shut as the last of my cold, defensive walls completely crumble. My stubbornness finally gets the better of me, and I let my head heavy into the solid warmth of his palm, breathing in the scent of salt and cedar that clings to his skin. The embarrassment that felt so suffocating just moments ago simply melts away against his touch.

A low, ragged breath slips past Kaelen’s lips as he feels me finally give in. His fingers curve deeper around my jaw, his thumb wiping along my cheek with a tenderness that feels almost desperate after the storm we just sailed through.

"Damn it, Red," he whispers, his voice thick and rough as he leans down, his forehead resting gently against mine. The heat of his breath unevenly brushes over my face. "You're going to drive me entirely mad out here."

He doesn't care that Boulder is a few yards away, or that Silas is up at the helm. For a fleeting second, he just holds me there on the open deck, his touch steadying the wild, frustrated rhythm of my heart.

When my eyes open, the vulnerability is completely gone, replaced instantly by that same dangerous, burning fire. The embarrassment has officially morphed back into pure, unadulterated provocation.

I don’t speak a single word. I just look at him, letting my gaze drop deliberately to his mouth before snapping back up to lock onto his green eyes, making sure he reads every ounce of the relentless desire and impatience still humming in my veins. Your ship is secure. Now what?

Kaelen’s breath Hitches. Feeling the sudden, electric shift in my posture, his grip on my jaw tightens, his thumb pressing firmly into my skin. The gentle, apologetic look on his face vanishes, utterly consumed by the spark I just threw into the powder keg.

"Right," he growls, his voice dropping into a dark, ruthless register.

He lets go of my face, but before I can even blink, his hand clamps securely around my wrist. He doesn't look at the crew, and he doesn't care who sees. He turns on his heel and pulls me along behind him, his long strides cutting a fierce path across the deck straight toward the companionway hatch.

"You do realize people are watching?" I say quickly, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush as I strain to keep up with his sudden, predatory strides. My boots click sharply against the deck planks, my wrist encased in the iron grip of his hand.

Kaelen doesn't slow down. He doesn't even glance back. He just yanks open the companionway hatch with his free hand, pulling me down into the dim, sheltered shadows of the stairwell and slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind us, cutting off the noise of the deck above.

The sudden shift from the bright, open air to the tight, secluded darkness makes my breath catch.

"Let them watch," Kaelen growls, finally stopping on the narrow landing.

He spins around, using his momentum to press me firmly back against the solid timber bulkhead. His hands instantly find my waist, hoisting me up slightly until our eyes are perfectly level in the shadows. The raw, possessive heat radiating off him is suffocating.

"I've spent the last hour keeping this ship from tearing itself apart while you stood there biting your lip and daring me to break," he whispers, his green eyes flashing with a dangerous, unchecked hunger as his face hovers mere inches from mine. "The ship is safe. The crew is alive. And right now, Red, I don't give a damn about anything else."

"It's been so long," I breathe out against his ear, the words a jagged, aching confession that slips into the dark space between us. My fingers tangle deep into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, needing to erase every single inch of distance that the sea, the crew, and this endless voyage have forced between us.

Kaelen shudders violently at the feel of my breath, my words hitting him like a physical blow.

"Too long," he growls, his voice completely wrecked.

He buries his face into the crook of my neck, his hot mouth pressing sharp, demanding kisses along my pulse point while his hands slide up from my waist, pinning my wrists flat against the wooden wall above my head. His heavy weight crushes me into the timber, grounding me, letting me feel every frantic beat of his heart. The sheer intensity of it makes my head spin—this beautiful, chaotic wreck of a man completely unraveled by a single whisper, giving me exactly what I wanted.

"It finally feels like us again," I say against his mouth, the words melting right into the heat of his lips.

The admission hits him hard. Kaelen freezes for a fraction of a second, his forehead resting heavily against mine as the weight of my words settles over him. The tension in his broad shoulders shifts from raw, untamed hunger to something incredibly deep and fiercely protective.

"Yeah," he breathes, his voice a rough, low rumble that vibrates right into my chest. "It does."

He relaxes his iron grip on my wrists, letting his fingers slide down to entwine tightly with mine, pinning our hands together against the bulkhead. He kisses me again, but this time it’s slower, deeper—full of a familiar, intoxicating warmth that belongs only to the two of us. The rest of the ship, the crew, and the endless miles of treacherous sea completely fade away into the shadows of the stairwell, leaving nothing but the steady rhythm of the waves and the fire we finally got to burn.

As the storm inside us finally settles, the quiet of the companionway wraps back around us. We stand there for a long time, the heavy oak bulkhead supporting our weight as we just hold each other, our breathing slowly syncing up with the steady, rhythmic rocking of the ship. The frantic desperation has melted into something warm, solid, and fiercely protective.

I bury my face deeper into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the familiar, grounding scent of salt, rain, and him.

"I've missed you," I say softly into his neck, the words muffled against his skin but carrying the full weight of every lonely night and every stolen glance we've had to endure on this voyage.

Kaelen’s arms tighten around my waist, pulling me so close there's no air left between us. He buries his face in my hair, letting out a long, shaky breath that tells me he’s been carrying the exact same ache.

"I'm right here, Red," he murmurs, his voice rough and incredibly gentle as his lips brush against the crown of my head. "I'm right here."

A soft chuckle ripples through my chest, the vibration warming the space between us. "Can I keep you here like this for the rest of the trip?" I ask him, a playful, teasing edge returning to my voice.

Kaelen lets out a low, rumbling laugh of his own, the sound vibrating deeply against my collarbone. He pulls back just enough to look down at me, a brilliant, genuine smile completely transforming his rugged face. The heavy weight of the captaincy seems to vanish entirely in the shadows of the stairwell.

"As tempting as that is, Red," he murmurs, his green eyes dancing with an affectionate, wicked spark as he reaches up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, "I think Silas would mutiny within the hour if he had to handle the charts by himself. And Boulder would probably look for a new blacksmith."

He leans down, pressing one more slow, lingering kiss to my forehead, his arms still wrapped securely around my waist.

"But the second my watch is over?" He tilts my chin up, his gaze turning dark and incredibly promising all over again. "You won't have to ask."

Kaelen heads up deck while I smooth myself over not wanting to bring anymore unwanted attention to myself knowing the crew saw him drag me down here. I run my fingers through my hair removing any matted knots and wipe down the condensation off of my face and neck, after a good few minutes of composing myself I make my way out. I notice Kaelen and Silas deep in talk at the wheel, wanting not to disturb I make my way to the end of the deck and look out at the vast waters in front of me.

I freeze, my shoulders tensing up as Boulder’s long, slow whistle cuts through the ambient noise of the creaking deck and the rushing wind.

Turning around slowly, I try to keep my face completely blank, but the heat instantly blooming in my cheeks threatens to give me away. Boulder is leaning against the forward mast, a thick piece of sandpaper in one hand and a wooden block in the other, a massive, knowing grin splitting his bushy beard. He doesn't look angry; he just looks highly amused.

"Well, now," Boulder says, his booming voice intentionally dropped to a low rumble so it doesn't carry across the deck. "Seems the captain's ledger required some very intensive sorting, Red."

I clear my throat, desperately trying to summon back that fierce, unbothered attitude I had earlier. "The rigging was... complex, Boulder. Lots of knots to untangle."

Boulder lets out a roaring bark of a laugh, shaking his head as he goes back to sanding his block of wood. "Aye. I'm sure it was. Just glad to see the storm's passed on and off the deck. The air was getting a bit thick out here."

I roll my eyes playfully, the embarrassment fading into a small, relieved smile as I lean back against the ship's railing. Over on the quarterdeck, the low murmur of Kaelen and Silas's voices continues. I don't dare look directly at them, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Kaelen's head tilt slightly toward the sound of Boulder's laugh. He doesn't break his conversation with his Quartermaster, but the subtle, relaxed shift in his posture tells me he knows exactly what just happened—and he isn't hiding his satisfaction at all.

My heart does a nervous little flip when Kaelen’s whistle cuts through the air, his arm raised to gesture me over. I glance back at Boulder, who just gives me a reassuring wink, before I reluctantly start the trek up to the quarterdeck.