Page 152 of Spar of Hearts

“Five more minutes…”

She lightly pinched his ear, causing him to straighten.

“Ah! Okay! I’m up!” He looked up. “Oh, Captain. Ornella.” He helped Anya to her feet. “I thought you were enjoying the festivities.”

“Oh we are. But we had somethin’ to ask ya first.” The captain looked at Ornella, then back at them, wringing his captain’s hat in his hands. “Look, Yer Highness, Yer Grace, there’s no easy way to put this…” the captain started, then hesitated.

Anya’s stomach bottomed out as she focused her canine eyes on the captain. His expression was full of sorrow. Was he asking them to leave the Lupus Star? Oh stars, she’d assumed he would be happy to have them both. But maybe the ship was too full? Or perhaps he was worried a former princess would attract the attention of pirates, or—

“I’m retirin’.”

“Retiring?”

“What?”

The captain nodded. “This ol’ seadog’s seen a lot in his years. Even things I didn’t think were real. But sailin’ to Aquillas…boy, that just satisfied my sailor’s heart like nothin’ else. Even the kelpie, the thing I’ve been chasin’ for years, I know they’re real now. Ain’t that right, Ornella?” he added victoriously.

Ornella, who was still smiling softly, nodded. “Yes, sir. I was wrong indeed.”

A smile quirked up the captain’s mustache. “Ha! Yes you were.” He sighed and turned to Roderick and Anya. “So it’s time for me to return ta’ shore. I’ve got grandkids ta’ spoil.”

Anya turned to Ornella. “Does that mean you’ll be Captain now?” Ornella would be an incredible captain. Strong, calm, smart, experienced. Anya would be proud to follow her lead.

Ornella shook her head, chuckling to herself. “No. No, that is not for me. I have enough to do with two rambunctious pups on my hands.”

“Then who?” Roderick asked.

“You!” the captain boomed. “Both of you!”

“Us?” Anya gasped.

Roderick’s mouth gaped, but no words came out.

Captain Verden nodded. “You’ve proven yourselves to the ends of the earth and back again with hardly a scratch. Dedicated leaders, a knight, a navigator, and mates to boot. What more could a crew want?”

Roderick stammered. “Captain, I—we—how can we”—he shook his head—“surely there’s someone more qualified.”

The captain held up a hand. “I’ve always had one rule on the Lupus Star: there’s only room for the true and honest—and I’ve hardly seen a finer example than the two o’ you.”

With a holey smile, he held out his navy tricorn captain’s hat to Anya. She gently took it in her claws, staring in disbelief between it and Roderick. He was offering more than a title, more than a ship. He was offering a lifetime of adventure, of choice, of freedom—of pack and home and love, love, love, so much love. And when she looked into Roderick’s eyes, she could see it all.

“If ya’ need a moment, we can go,” the captain started, pointing a thumb back toward town.

Anya questioned Roderick with a quick brow lift and a knowing smile.

He gave her a peck on the cheek, then flipped the hat onto her head with a flourish.

“We’ll do it!” they answered in unison.

“Terrific!” the captain boomed. “We’ll work out the rest o’ the details tomorrow so you lovebirds can celebrate.”

As they turned to leave, Roderick pulled her flush against him. Their united breaths were fast, happy, eager and light, and so, so ready for the future that awaited them.

Their lips had almost met when Ornella added, “Before I forget”—they both turned their heads—“there is only the one hat.”

As she strolled away, Roderick grinned at Anya with a devious glint in his eye.

And those fangs.