All the Tides of Fate

by Adalyn Grace

  Every passing minute feels like an hour as I make my way to his bed, sitting cross-legged upon the navy sheets. I’ve tucked the snake scale away in my room so that I’m no longer tempted to touch it, so there’s nothing here to distract me from the nerves roiling within me, making me pick at the skin around my fingernails, peeling until they bleed.

  When the door to the captain’s quarters cracks open, those nerves leap to my throat, thickening it so fiercely I fear I may never speak again. Bastian shuts the door behind him, the fall of his boots slow as he makes his way down the creaking wooden stairs. His throat bobs when he sees me, and he hesitates.

  “I know you’re going through a lot, and I’m sorry for it.” He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, careful to give me space. “But … you know you can talk to us, right? Any one of us. We’re all here for you.”

  Bastian must sense my nerves, because he reaches out a cautious hand. Pressing my lips together, I take it, lacing my fingers through his. The moment our skin touches, a weight lifts from my chest and shoulders. I can breathe easier against him.

  And though I’ve hated this fact, now I lean into it, wanting to sear the feeling of his touch into my memory.

  “I’ve hated this past season, you know,” I say softly. “I hated making myself stay away from you.”

  Something in his demeanor cracks. His breaths are too sharp, and his grip softens in mine. “Amora…”

  I shake my head before he can say anything more, and push onto my knees. Eyes never straying from his, I close the space between us, waiting for him to stiffen. To hesitate. To tell me that after everything I’ve put him through, I’m not welcome.

  But Bastian does none of these things. Rather than push me away, his hands find my hips and help pull me onto his lap. As my legs kick over his hips to straddle him, his hazel eyes glint with hunger and his grip on my hips tightens.

  “You’re going to have to tell me what we’re doing here.” His words are husky and low. “I don’t want to misread you.”

  I press my hips firmly against his, stroking my fingers through his hair as his head rolls back with a low groan. “There’s nothing to misread. I’m terrified of the things I feel for you, Bastian Altair. But to say that I felt none of these things before my soul was cursed to you is a lie. I wanted you then, and by the gods, I want you now. But only if you still want me, too. I won’t blame you if you don’t.”

  But please, please do.

  He looks me over, as if taking in what he’s being presented with and trying to determine whether it’s real. Eventually, his confident eyes meet mine. “I want you, Amora. All of you. Now and forever, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  There’s a sweetness in those words I wasn’t expecting, and it’s jarring. This isn’t how any of my previous nights with men have gone. They’d all been a series of tangled limbs and wanting bodies, pressed together to satiate a temporary hunger. None of them had ever satisfied this desperate hunger I have now. This bone-deep want.

  No one else has ever looked at me the way he does.

  “All of you,” Bastian repeats firmly, not daring to look away. “That’s what I want, if you’ll have me.”

  “I will.” I lean back on his lap and unclasp my cloak, letting it fall to the ground. My shirt is next; I don’t look away as I strip it over my head and toss the garment to the floor, for once not caring whether it gets ruined or dirty.

  The moment my clothes hit the floor, Bastian takes me by the hips and flips me onto the bed. He’s swift to remove his shirt before he’s the one straddling me, kissing me from the ear down, taking his time to reach my lips. My neck. Taking the skin of my collarbone gently between his teeth. I wrap my arms around him as he drifts lower, dragging my fingers over the pronounced muscles of his back, or taking fistfuls of his chestnut hair when he gets too low for me to reach. His lips trail from my navel to my hips, where he hesitates. There’s a question in the eyes that glint up at me, and my entire body heats with desire that flares from that single look. I understand exactly what he’s offering, and I want it.

  When I nod, his fingers fumble with the buttons of my pants, and he eases them off, kicking them to the floor before his lips are against my skin once again. This time though, they travel even lower, and as he finds the most sensitive area of me, I unravel. I dig fingers into his hair. Into the sheets around us. Into anything I can get my hands on until my body shudders around him. I’m breathless, reveling in what he’s given me. But I’m not done with him, yet.

  I pull Bastian up so that his body’s over mine, and I kiss him firmly. “More,” I say against his lips, igniting at his low laugh.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. “And I have wild carrot seed to take after, so we’ll be safe.” I start at Bastian’s pants, but as he stands to finish undressing, my only job is to lean back on the bed and admire him.

  The warmth of his brown skin glows like the sun in the flicker of candlelight. His chest and shoulders are broader than I remember. When he takes too long, I lift to my knees to drag Bastian down to the bed.

  His eyes widen when I don’t pull him over me again, but instead drag myself onto his lap.

  “Why do you look so surprised?” I laugh, smoothing my fingers through his hair and peppering kisses along his neck to quell his nerves. “Have you been with someone before?”

  “I have.” His hands settle onto their familiar place upon my hips, and I shudder as his thumbs trace patterns over my bare skin. “Just not … like this.”

  He nods to my body, and I understand at once that Bastian’s used to being the one in control.

  Perhaps it’s selfish, but tonight I want him in all the ways I want him. Because no matter what comes after this—no matter what choice I make—it’s me who’s going to lose something when the time comes to use that scale. So for tonight, I will be selfish.

  I take his face in my hands and plant the softest kiss on his mouth. “That’s okay. If there’s anything one of us doesn’t like, we’ll stop.”

  He brushes his fingers through my curls, tucking a strand back behind my ear as his thumb strokes my cheek. He smiles as he does it, soft and content, and kisses me back.

  It’s a slow kiss, soft and tender, melting my body against his. But it grows into something fierce and desperate, until it feels as though there isn’t a single thing in the world that can satiate me except for him.

  When we connect, there’s nothing I want more than for this moment between us to last. Curse or not, being with Bastian in this way is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s like our bodies are made for each other. Where he touches, my skin turns to fire. When I kiss him, his body bends to mine.

  I’ve no way to know how long we’ve been tangled together before we relax on the sheets, both of us breathless and veiled in sweat. Yet neither of us makes any motion to pull away.

  Bastian holds me close against his bare chest, burrowing his face against the crook of my neck. I want to live in this moment long enough to capture it. To remember the feeling of his soft, contented breaths. The way his body feels against my skin. How he combs his fingers through my curls, wrapping them around calloused fingers.

  He’s more vulnerable than I’ve ever known him to be, and I can’t help but wonder what would happen next between us. If the snake scale weren’t waiting, where would Bastian and I go from here?

  “You have something planned.” He speaks the words against my neck, sending chills down my spine and goose bumps along my arms. “I trust you, Amora. We all do. But we’re also worried about you. Is this … Is it about what we saw in Nelly’s memories? About the choice her father made?”

  I still, and for a moment Bastian tenses as if he’s worried I might pull away. But I don’t, even while guilt weighs my stomach like lead.

  “Kaven changed the landscape of this kingdom forever.” I keep my voice flat. “Our people no longer trust me to lead them, even if I’m one of
the few who knows the truth behind our history. I’m trying to help fix the damage my family has done. But if Visidia knew the truth about the Montaras … there’s no way they’d listen to anything I say. With the artifact, I could have a chance to change things. I have a chance to fix Visidia.”

  “Amora.” Instinct makes my body relax at the way my name sounds coming from his lips. I shut my eyes, focusing on how his fingers toy with my curls as he talks. “Sometimes, beautiful things come from our most painful experiences. Before your reign, Zudoh was nearly wiped out. The Kers were killing themselves by trading time off their lives to Blarthe, just for the possibility of one day having their homes back. Magic was being kept from our people.

  “Your family made mistakes that changed the history of this kingdom, you’re right,” he continues. “But if you don’t tell them the truth, what makes you any better than the rest of them? No Montara ever gave Visidia a choice until you took the throne. I know it’s hard, and I know … I know you have the power to do some things that look pretty appealing right now. But the Amora I know? She’d do whatever it took to give her people their freedom. To give them the future they deserve. And that’s the Amora I’m in love with.”

  A knot coils tight in the center of my chest, making the words even more difficult to grit out. “I miss him, Bastian. I feel like, if he were here, he’d know what to do about all of this. I feel like he could fix everything.”

  Bastian presses his forehead to the back of my neck and kisses the skin there with a gentle sigh. “You don’t need his help; you already know what needs to be done. The king may have been a loving father, but he was not a great ruler. He fixed nothing. He would have done whatever was best for him and his family alone. You’re not like that; you can’t be. Visidia may be changing, but it’s only getting stronger. It may still be finding itself, but one day it will stabilize again, I promise you.”

  The king may have been a loving father, but he was not a great ruler. The words strike something within me, fierce and gutting. My entire body tenses, thinking back to the serpent scale once more. All I need is someone who can use time magic, and Father’s as good as alive. In two days, my entire world could change, and I could have him back.

  All my life I believed I was made to sit on Visidia’s throne, but being on it now, I know with certainty I’m as wrong for the throne as Bastian believes Father was.

  I suppose the real question then is which one of us is worse.

  “Do you think he could have been a good king?” At first, I’m not sure my words even come out, they’re so quiet. “If I’d gone straight to him about Kaven, do you think he would have listened? That there’s a reality where he would have taken our side?”

  Bastian’s hesitation is enough of an answer, though it’s not the only one he gives. “I think your father’s love for you was so great that he didn’t even know what to do with it. He knew you idolized him. I think the last thing he would ever have wanted was for you to grow to despise him. Because of that, I think he would’ve tried to keep his truths hidden from you forever. So no, I don’t think he’d have taken our side. And that’s the difference between you two. I think everything happened in the only way it could happen. But I also think that there’s no good that can come out of this conversation.” With a gentle stroke to my cheeks, he bends to plant a kiss against my skin.

  “Sometimes it’s hard as a man to be open and share what you’re feeling,” Bastian continues. “The kingdom expected him to be stern and strong, and so that’s who he showed them he was. But he broke that facade every time he saw you. The two of you loved each other in a way I wish I’d been able to know with my own father. I hardly knew King Audric, but I saw it when you two were together the night of your birthday.

  “No one can tell you how to grieve.” He curls his fingers into mine. “You need to mourn in whatever way is right for you. But he wouldn’t have wanted to see you thinking like this. He believed in you; he died so that you could live and help the kingdom in a way he was not able to. The last thing he’d want is you giving up the sacrifice he made.”

  Never once have I spoken about what happened that night. Mother wanted to know details, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t give them. Every time I tried to think about them, I’d think of the blood. I’d think of the life draining from his body and eyes, and I’d lose myself to the pain of that night all over again.

  But tonight is different. This time when I think about Father’s death, it’s not the blood or the sword I see. It’s the moment when he took me to the deep, secret place within his own soul, and I’d spoken my last words to him: I can’t forgive you for this.

  For so long I’ve tried to avoid thinking of that moment, of the words I’ve wanted for so long to take back.

  My last moment with Father was spent telling him how wrong he was and blaming him for the many mistakes he’d made. And tonight, even if it wasn’t truly him, I still hadn’t managed to tell him I was sorry.

  I don’t realize I’m crying until Bastian winds his arms around me tight and bundles us into the sheets. He’s saying something between soothing sounds, but I can’t focus enough to make out the words. I bury my face in his chest, unable to stop every feeling that floods through me at once. Pain, mourning, and an absolute, unending numbness.

  “I told him I couldn’t forgive him.” I nearly choke the words into Bastian’s skin, and his shoulders slump with understanding. “Those were my last words. Not goodbye. Not how much I love him. I told him I could never forgive him.”

  “You didn’t need to tell him how much you loved him.” Bastian holds me tight no matter how hard I cry on his bare skin, making a mess of his chest. “He knew. I promise you, if there’s one thing King Audric knew, it’s that you loved him.”

  And gods, I want him to be right. I want nothing more than to believe that as my truth. But there’s no way for me to truly know.

  Father is dead. And if I choose to break my curse, I will never have the chance to tell him how much I love him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I wake before dawn, peeling from the warmth of Bastian’s bed and quietly pulling on my coat and boots. Avoiding the creakiest of the steps, I sneak out of the captain’s quarters and back to my own cabin well before anyone should be awake.

  To my surprise, it’s not a sleeping Vataea who waits for me.

  Both she and Ferrick stand in the room, him a disheveled mess and her feral. She speaks in a low and angry hiss while Ferrick tries to placate her, hands held up in defense.

  My hand slips from the door as Vataea’s golden eyes cut to me, far more lethal than I’ve ever seen. Even while pulling men into the sea, she never looked half as frightening as she does now.

  She jerks from the floor and has me against the wall with no warning, her forearm pressed against my throat. “To think I ever called you a friend.” Her words are a snarl worse than the Lusca’s and more fearsome than even the godwoken. Her other hand is beside my head, claws out and grating into the wood. “You’ve been using me like everyone else, haven’t you? You’re no better than any of them!”

  “Let her talk, Vataea!” Ferrick grabs hold of her shoulder, but she whirls so quickly I don’t understand what’s happened until Ferrick reels back, stumbling and clutching a bleeding arm to his chest. Only then does the light snap back on in Vataea’s eyes. Horror-struck, she clutches her hand tight against her chest and draws a step back.

  “Everyone told me not to trust humans.” The sea lashes around us, the tides swelling with a ferocity that matches her words. “I thought you were different, but all you humans do is lie. You take what you want, and you lie.”

  I clutch my throat, choking on the words I force out of them. “What are you—”

  “Blarthe!” she yells, nails digging into her palms as she clutches them into fists. “You have Blarthe, and you didn’t tell me!”

  My fingers are numb on my throat. Ferrick drops his red-rimmed eyes to the floor. The stone with Nelly
’s memories sits between them, and I know at once that she’s realized everything.

  “She knew you were hiding something, so she went looking for clues.” Thoroughly miserable as he slumps against the wall, Ferrick doesn’t bother to even heal his own arm. “We should have told her the truth sooner.”

  “V,” I say softly, “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, I swear. I just … I was afraid to.”

  “My name is Vataea.” Each syllable is sharp as ice, ready to impale. She kicks the cursed stone with her boot, and I flinch as it scuffs the wood. “I am not fragile. You asked me why I stayed, why I risk my life for you, and I told you the truth. You had plenty of chances to be honest with me, but you are a coward.” She kicks the stone again, her anger swelling. It’s like she’s barely able to contain it, drawing sharpened breaths and raking her bloodied fingernails through her hair.

  “I have to break this curse.” My voice trembles more than I’d like it to. “I needed Blarthe alive until I found what I was looking for.”

  “And will you break your curse?” I’ve never heard a voice so cold as hers. “Ferrick and I saw what that man in the memories did. He altered time to raise the dead, Amora. Tell me you don’t intend to do the same. Tell me that you’re not planning to waste every moment of our lives these past two seasons. I didn’t come this far to go back to where I was, and neither did this kingdom.”

  My hesitation lasts for a beat too long. Her scowl sinks deep into her face, as though vying to become a permanent fixture.

  “I—no. I’m not sure, yet.” My words aren’t coming out like I want them to.

  “You are a disappointment, Your Majesty,” Vataea spits with pure venom. “I would have helped you regardless. I would have helped more than you will ever know, had you been honest.”

  I follow after her when she turns to take the stairs two at a time, climbing up to the deck and wasting no time peeling out of her cloak, then her pants, tossing them to the floor as she grabs hold of the rigging and hauls herself onto the railing.