Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
C reslyn’s entire body was humming, crackling with energy.
Her heart continued to thump wildly inside her chest, and her fingers still tingled from the magic pulsing through her veins. She’d never used her power like that before, never realized she was capable of creating a storm of her own, one that she could wield like a weapon. It was thrilling. Intoxicating. Empowering. A delightful kind of high, one that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, leaning into the breeze, ready to leap and soar.
And when those terrifying creatures had emerged, wreaking havoc upon the gardens of House Celestine and ruining Novalise and Asher’s wedding, Creslyn had not been afraid. She did not run and cry like so many others, no, she’d held her ground, defending what was hers. She wanted to destroy them for the fear they caused, for the pain they had brought upon her home. And when Caelian had been tangled in those wretched vines, clawing against the stone to break free of them, that crevasse of frozen darkness inside of Creslyn thawed, splitting wide open, ready to swallow her whole.
She had almost fully given into its demands for freedom.
But she’d held back, unable to let herself go. Because the moment she did, the second she succumbed to the tempting lure, she would be exposed. The raw truth of her essence would be on full display, and she would no longer be able to hide behind the facade of brilliant sunshine and dazzling rainbows. Her family, everyone she loved, would know she was tainted, a blemish upon her blood right. The darkness she harbored inside of her was a smear upon her family name, a flaw upon her character. If they caught a glimpse of it, they would undoubtedly blame Drake for corrupting her. They would claim he tarnished the good of her soul, and she simply could not allow them to think any more ill of him.
Not when the sliver of murky power had been within her all along. It was something she’d been born with, something that set her apart in the worst kind of way, something she’d discovered in her youth when she realized the whole of the world was not always painted with sunshine and rainbows. Like when her mother scorned her for not possessing magic of a celestial quality, or when Nyxian ridiculed her “pretty magic,” claiming it would never be powerful. Or like the day when her father died, and all the color bled from her life, washing it in muted tones of lackluster gray.
So, she would keep the darkness locked away and whisper to the stars in the hopes that it stayed trapped inside of her, where it belonged.
The observatory was buzzing with muted conversations, the muffled words ringing in her ears.
Caelian stood near one of the glowing alcoves, where star-shaped fragments of moonstone, forming her constellation, the Tree of Life, sparkled over her head. Her gown was all but ruined, the hem was torn and covered in a layer of grime, and she twisted one of the frayed ribbons anxiously around her fingers. Kjeld was standing beside her, his golden hair hanging loosely around his rugged face, most of it having fallen free from the plaits once holding it in place. His rich brown coat was torn at the sleeve, and he swung his axe in his hands, the leather wrapped handle thumping against his rough palm.
Novalise was propped up against the dais, the back of her head resting against the molded fragments of blue goldstone and selenite. Her arms were wrapped around Sarelle, the top of her head tucked beneath Novalise’s chin. Filth and a few crumpled leaves clung to Sarelle’s dress, but Novalise didn’t seem to care if the dirt transferred to her wedding gown. She just continued to stroke one hand absently down the length of Sarelle’s inky black hair. Each time Sarelle took a shaky breath, stardust fell around her like scattered snow. Asher was beside them both, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark gray eyes heated with an emotion Creslyn couldn’t quite pinpoint. He shoved a hand through his black hair, the silver lock streaking through the front tumbling forward across his drawn brow once more.
Creslyn’s gaze scanned the dimly lit observatory, landing on Solarius and Narissa.
She watched in pained silence as her brother reached to touch Narissa’s cheek, where a fresh cut sliced across her skin. But Narissa flinched, turning away from him, her golden sea-swept waves shielding her face from view. Solarius’s hand fell to his side, his hands coiling into tight fists.
An arm slid around Creslyn’s waist, and she leaned into Drake’s comfort, into his cooling embrace.
Solarius cleared his throat, stalking toward the center of the observatory where the Faerie Star flanked by twin crescent moons was inlaid into the gleaming floor. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, his silver gaze landing on each pair of eyes staring back at him.
“I intend to send word to Tovian and Nyxian about what transpired here tonight. In no way am I expecting them to sail for home at once, but I do feel as though they should both be informed.” He rocked back onto his heels. “Just in case.”
The words he left unsaid hung between them, heavy like the boughs of an evergreen weighted with snow.
Just in case their brothers returned home to find Aeramere in the midst of a war.
“That being said,” Solarius glanced around, his eyes flicking to the glass ceiling of the observatory, “what do we know?”
“That the fae of Aeramere stand no chance against any form of dark magic.” Drake kept his hand positioned on Creslyn’s waist as he spoke, his tone measured and calm. “With the exception of Creslyn, Asher, Novalise, Ariesian, and Prince Aspen, no one else used their magic to defend themselves or others.”
Solarius’s gaze narrowed.
“No offense, my lord,” Drake added with a dip of his head, his mouth twitching slightly.
“None taken.” Solarius pinched the bridge of his nose and loosed a hasty sigh. “And as much as it pains me to admit it, Prince Drake is correct.”
He paced around the points of the Faerie Star, his boots clicking softly against the smooth stone.
“I fear that even if we had known this attack was coming, we would have been utterly defenseless. We have been spoon-fed into believing we are safe, that the Veil protects us from the dangers beyond our realm.” Solarius tucked his hands behind his back, angling his chin, as though he knew whatever he was about to say next, bordered on the treacherous. “The Veil, however, is useless against any threats from within.”
Creslyn shifted on her feet, uneasy. Apprehension dragged its cold fingers down the back of her neck. Though Solarius spoke true, there was an inflection of defiance in his voice. Such a connotation could be construed as treasonous. Disloyalty to Queen Elowyn was a punishable offense, one where lashings were the sole form of penance.
She shuddered, unable to shake the vision of Solarius on his knees, head bowed, as a whip cracked through the air.
Asher stepped forward then, adjusting the lapel of his coat. He cast a fleeting look in Novalise’s direction. She paled slightly, her grip tightening around Sarelle’s shoulders, but then she nodded once.
“I believe the rebellions are being silenced for a reason. Someone within the palace wants us to believe that everything is fine, they want us to carry on as we always have, to keep up with the appearances of a society where all that matters is petty gossip and matched marriages. But our houses are more than simply a means with which to conduct frivolous balls and foster mundane courtship.” The corner of Asher’s mouth lifted when he found Novalise scowling at him. “Forgive me, Starlight. You know I would gladly suffer through all of it for you.”
Novalise’s expression softened, her eyes taking on the look of someone so sickeningly in love it made Creslyn’s heart ache.
“But,” Asher continued, his voice more threatening than before, “war is coming to Aeramere.”
He gestured toward his new bride. “Novalise has seen it.”
Creslyn gasped. “What?”
Sarelle reared back, putting space between herself and Novalise, a mixture of hurt and confusion swimming through her deep blue eyes. “Is this true?”
Novalise’s skin flushed, and she floundered beneath the sudden attention, fiddling with the silver folds of her gown. “Yes…it’s true. I conducted a star reading during Midsummer, after my own humiliating one.”
Asher grabbed her hand, pulling her close to his side, his lips brushing lightly across her temple. Soothing her.
Novalise seemed to breathe him in, his very presence grounding her. Strengthening her. “I performed it here, in the observatory. Three constellations were revealed to me—the Great Stag, Vespira the Druid, and Aedes the Fae Warrior. By all counts, the three should not have aligned, yet they did, and what the stars showed me was a distant battle. A war. One that will take place in the very heart of Aeramere.”
“Why did you not tell us?” Sarelle cried, clutching her muddied gown with one hand. She held out the soiled fabric as though it was proof of some kind. “We could have been more prepared, we could have done something!”
“Like what?” Caelian fired back, stomping away from the alcove, the remnants of her own soiled dress dragging along the ground behind her. “I suppose you can create little explosions of deadly stardust now?”
Sarelle huffed. She folded her arms across her chest and sneered at Caelian. “Explosions of stardust would be far superior to the impractical use of wishes upon stars.”
“Caelian. Sarelle. That is quite enough.” Solarius’s low timbre cut through their argument, sounding so similar to their father that both sisters faltered before falling completely silent. “I did not ask all of you here just for the opportunity to bicker over the past.”
“Besides,” Asher interrupted smoothly, wrapping a protective arm around Novalise’s shoulders. “My wife did exactly what would have been expected of her. She told those who are responsible for our safety, and they did nothing .”
“That cannot be right.” Creslyn shook her head in disbelief, a gnawing sense of dread needling its way deeper into her spine. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of information, none of which made any sense. How could she have been so blind to the world around her? “But why would Queen Elowyn ignore Nova’s reading?”
The last person she expected to answer her was Drake.
“Novalise’s warning was disregarded by Prince Aspen.” Though he was addressing everyone, he looked only at her. His gaze was so intense, staring into the green of his eyes was like wandering through a dark, misty forest, lost and alone. “He refuted her claims. Disparaged her before the queen, belittling her to nothing more than a female whose only concerns should be finding a husband and admiring the weather.”
Creslyn blinked up at him. “How do you know?”
His brows lifted with mild interest. “I was there.”
“You…” Her voice trailed off. Oh. Right. Of course Drake would have been with Novalise. He had intended to court and marry her first. Creslyn was merely the secondary option. The last resort if his intentions with Novalise proved futile. Drake hadn’t even noticed Creslyn until Ariesian had left him with no other choice but to marry her instead. The imperfect and inferior youngest sister who?—
“Enough.” Drake’s cold voice penetrated her mind. He snared her by the chin, forcing her to look up into his face. “Empty your mind of such thoughts at once.”
She tried to pull away, but his grip only increased, holding her in place. Envy was an ugly beast, one that always reared its head at the worst possible moment, but this was something deeper than trivial jealousy. It was hurt . Anguish over not being chosen first, despair over knowing she would never truly be loved.
His shadows fanned out, ensconcing them into a world of muted colors and eerie silence. The observatory, her siblings, everything faded away.
Drake yanked the Shadowblade from the sheath at his waist. He flipped it into the air, then shoved the hilt into her hand. The tip of its gleaming midnight blade bit through the fibers of his shirt, hungry for the flesh beneath.
Horror filled Creslyn. She tried to let go of the dagger, but Drake’s strong hand closed around hers, making it impossible to break free of his iron-like hold. He leaned closer, so the blade frayed the silk of his shirt, the snap of each thread echoing loudly in her ears.
Sweat coated her palm as she clutched the smooth leather wrapping the Shadowblade’s hilt. Power thrummed between them, a dark and sinister melody.
“Drake…” Her voice trembled in a harsh whisper.
“You asked for my heart. Here it is.” He squeezed her hand until she thought the bones would snap. “Would you like to carve it out right now? Would that be enough to prove that you own my soul? That I would rather be a lifeless corpse at your feet with my still beating heart in your bloodied hands, than ever have you think I desire another? If that is what you need from me, then carve it out.”
Her lungs hollowed, her stomach roiled. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the pointed edge of the blade that was mere seconds from sinking into Drake’s skin. Creslyn stepped back, but he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her flush against him.
“You want my heart, do you not?” Drake bared his teeth in a predatory smile. “Take it. Carve it out.”
“N-no. I did not, that is…I never meant to imply?—”
“Carve it out!” he demanded, the hard planes of his chiseled face reflecting a void of emotion.
“No!” She shook her head, biting her bottom lip until it bled, the warm trickle of blood sliding down her chin. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I will not. I cannot.”
Drake eased the Shadowblade from her limp grasp, and it hissed between them as he sheathed it once more.
“You are mine. Through life and death and centuries beyond.” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her face close to his own. His tongue darted out, sliding from her chin to her lip, swiping at the crimson stain on her mouth. “From now until eternity, you belong to me, Creslyn Starstorm Kalstrand.”
He ran his thumb along the underside of her jaw, his eyes conveying more than could ever be expressed through words. “And I belong to you.”
The shadows vanished and Creslyn blinked. They were still in the observatory, and Solarius was watching her with one arched brow, his arms crossed over his chest.
He clicked his tongue. “Trouble in paradise?”
She swallowed, unable to find her voice.
“Not at all,” Drake mused with an air of indifference, curling his arms around Creslyn so her back was pressed snugly against his chest. “I merely needed a moment to remind my wife of who she is.”
The corner of Solarius’s mouth ticked. “I see. Well, now that you have taken care of that , might I remind you that before you disappeared into a swath of darkness, we were discussing the matter of Queen Elowyn and Prince Aspen shunning Novalise’s star reading.”
“I still do not understand why they refused to take her warning seriously.” Creslyn glanced up at the glass ceiling of the observatory, where a gilded wheel depicting all eight of Aeramere’s most famed constellations slowly turned, its gentle creaking a kind of melodic symphony. “After all, the stars never lie.”
“But they can be manipulated,” Novalise replied softly.
Creslyn gaped at her eldest sister. “Pardon?”
“What?” Narissa, who had been exceptionally quiet, glided towards Novalise’s side, her aqua gown crashing like waves at her feet. “What do you mean, they can be manipulated ?”
“I…I never did such a thing.” Novalise’s eyes widened, lit with panic. She staggered back into Asher’s arms, and he caught her by the waist, holding her upright. “I did not know, that is, I never realized?—”
Narissa gathered Novalise’s hands in her own, the dozens of gold rings she wore on her fingers glinted softly in the warm light. “I am not accusing you, Lady Novalise.”
Her voice was gentle and lulling, like the call of the ocean.
“But your mother, Lady Trysta, has been the Reader of Stars for years.” Narissa’s frosty green gaze slid to Solarius. “Does that mean it’s possible she could have…bent the readings to her will? Or even lied about them?”
“Yes,” Solarius confirmed with a single nod of his head. “That is exactly what that means.”
“But, Sol,” Creslyn stepped closer, twisting her hair out of her face. The question she was holding onto, the one burning on the tip of her tongue, was the same question she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted answered. Because she knew, once she heard the truth, everything would change. “How? How is Mother able to do such a thing?”
Solarius hesitated. He ran his knuckles along his chin, angling back, and met Asher’s knowing gaze from over the top of Novalise’s head.
Creslyn glanced between the two of them, trying to discern what sort of silent conversation they were having while keeping everyone else in the dark.
“Almost everyone.” Drake’s voice caressed her thoughts once more, and she whipped around to face him.
“You can hear their thoughts!” She gaped at him and his mouth curved. He slid a finger beneath her chin, closing her mouth.
She’d almost forgotten that Drake could hear everyone’s thoughts, not simply her own. He’d heard hers before they were married, before she had forced the mating bond into place.
“Your brother requires your attention.” He jerked his head back toward the center of the observatory, and Creslyn turned around to find Solarius watching her with feigned amusement.
“To answer your question, darling sister, star reading is the most basic form of celestial magic. It can be taught to anyone. In fact, it was our father, Zenos, who taught our mother how to read them.” His shoulders slumped a little as he continued, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck. He paced away, then paused, turning back to face them all. “After our father’s death is when I noticed Mother’s star readings were going a bit awry. There were too many coincidences. Too many inconsistencies. Too many readings that seemed to be forged out of the ease of convenience as opposed to the actual stars. And after Novalise’s star reading during Midsummer, I realized Mother was fabricating the truth.”
“You don’t trust her…” The unbidden words slipped from between Creslyn’s lips. Now that she’d spoken them out loud, there was nothing she could say to take them back. They simply hung in the space between, and an unsettling sensation seized her stomach, causing it to flip. The realization of what Solarius was implying, of what he intended to say, was not lost on her. “Our mother, you think she is hiding the truth from us?”
“Yes.” Solarius gestured toward Novalise and Asher. “What exactly she is hiding, well that, I do not know. But why else would she keep Novalise’s starstorm magic a secret and lie to everyone, even Queen Elowyn, about Nyxian’s injury? She kept it well-contained within the walls of House Celestine. She told everyone he was star-touched and then debased Novalise by relegating her power to nothing more than a star reader.”
His voice was rising. He was balancing on the edge of calm rationale and explosive fury.
Solarius stalked toward the center of the Faerie Star and threw his arms wide. Magic ebbed and flowed, a cadence of power that seemed to magnify, drawing on the shards of moonlight pouring through the glass ceiling. “Novalise is more than a simple reader of the stars. She is the starstorm. As we discovered tonight, our Creslyn is the sunstorm. Her magic is more than just sunshine and rainbows. Ariesian made his power known as well, as he is the shadowstorm. And I…”
Beams of incandescent moonlight swirled around him in a frenzy, creating a sphere of glowing silver light as the radiant power of the moon encapsulated him. Solarius flashed Creslyn a wink, then shrugged, as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m the lunarstorm.”
It was wild. Extraordinary.
Creslyn shrieked and rushed toward her brother. He caught her by the waist, spinning her around.
For so long they’d been told the ancient starstorm magic was dormant within their bloodline, that it disappeared and died out centuries ago. However, it appeared as though that power had adapted over the course of hundreds of years, exactly as Drake had suggested. Now, it seemed there was a storm within each of the Starstorm siblings. They just had to discover it, harness it, and most importantly, control it.
Solarius set her back down, and when Caelian and Sarelle began peppering him with questions, Creslyn looked for Drake.
She found him lounging against one of the pillars, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. Except he wasn’t looking at her, he was watching Narissa, whose rosy cheeks were now flushed with tempered rage. She stood away from everyone else and kept fussing with her golden waves, like she was trying to cover her ears or hide her rather blatant sense of disappointment. Narissa did not appear pleased nor at all impressed by Solarius’s lunarstorm, instead, she seemed somewhat aggravated by his display of power.
“Why is she angry?” Creslyn asked, sneaking into Drake’s thoughts as she crossed the observatory toward him.
He smirked, then kissed her forehead. “I do not make it a habit of sliding into the minds of others, darling wife. Despite popular belief.”
Creslyn’s brow arched. “And you, dear husband, are a terrible liar. Now, tell me. Why is she upset?”
Drake draped an arm around her shoulders, the tips of his fingers playing along the column of her neck. “Well, if I possessed the magic of the moon and you possessed the magic of the tides, would that not lead your fae heart into assuming the best, or quite possibly the worst, outcome?”
An outcome…between the moon and the tides…
“Stars above,” Creslyn breathed, ensuring she kept her voice very, very low. “Solarius and Narissa could be mates .”
She grabbed Drake’s arm, rising on her toes to whisper into his ear. “Do they know?”
He turned his head, kissing her soundly on the mouth. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon enough.”