Ashes of Starfall (Starfall #2)

Chapter 1

BUTTERFLY

The first planet, Stella, in the village of Luxuria

The girl sat beneath the willow tree.

In her hands, she held a wooden tablet, the wax on the surface warmed by the sun. The blunt tip of the writing instrument traced into the wax.

The knoll upon which she sat dipped into a soft valley, ripe with wildflowers that swayed in a gentle breeze.

The lines on the wooden tablet were blocky, and the wax was smudged at the corners from how many times she’d blotted her lines away, deeming them unsatisfactory.

The sun dipped, the sky turning pink and orange—like the heavy, sweet fruits that hung from the fat-leafed trees in her family’s garden.

She tilted her head. Narrowed her eyes. Then decided to tilt the wooden tablet.

It was missing something—

The girl placed the tablet down and stood, circling it, trying to get a new perspective. She crouched on her hands and knees, nose brushing the wax surface. It smelled faintly of the frankincense sachets her mother had dropped in a stone pot and let burn over the fire that morning.

It hit her then.

The girl sat back, brown hair falling in her face.

She grabbed her writing instrument, one leg tucked to her chest, the tablet resting precariously on her knee, as she added the final touches.

A blooming valley of countless flowers, so many petals that they turned to one large sea. Behind it, the wax was carved angrily to speak of the thick shadows in the forest that bordered her home village.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.

She propped the tablet beneath the willow tree, the long leaves brushing her ankles as she lay down and stretched out on her back.

She dozed, dreaming of steaming bread and woven baskets.

When her eyes drifted open, it was to a chill that had settled deep into her bones. The sun was gone, the twin moons shining above.

Her mother wouldn’t be missing her—as the eldest daughter of five siblings, she was often overlooked.

Her stomach grumbled; that was enough to tempt her away from her small haven beneath the Stars and willow tree.

Just as she sat up, her chin lifted, taking in the night sky with a low, lingering sigh.

A flash of gold and white streaked across the clear darkness above.

She gasped, sitting up fully as she stared. A shooting Star.

Make a wish, her father would always say, holding her hands between his and brushing the tip of her nose to remind her to keep her eyes closed.

She closed her eyes.

What the girl wished for could not be expressed in mere words.

Heat kissed her cheeks and her closed lids. Soft like static.

The girl opened her eyes, and what she saw made her gasp, heart kicking up to a swift, shocked beat in her chest. Her skirts shifted as she stood, a hand braced on the bark of the willow tree behind her. The leaves shrouded her. She parted them and stepped beyond the willow’s embrace.

The Star burned up in the clear sky.

It fell swiftly. Burning.

There was a flash of light. Everything lit up with fire as a loud boom reverberated through the meadow.

She fell back, head smacking against the ground. She winced, ears ringing.

When she was finally able to get her shaking legs underneath her, she stared, entranced, at the large crater smoking in the middle of the flower meadow.

She stumbled down the side of the hill, knees weak.

The air was hot, her long hair sticking to her nape. The flowers sizzled, petals turning to ash and crumbling as she swept past.

The girl stalled right at the crater’s edge. Her parents would surely kill her for her recklessness. But she had to know. Something was drawing her here—to this smoking dip in the meadow.

Slowly, she fell to her knees and crawled to the edge of the crater, fingers gripping the burnt, blackened edges. It was warm to the touch.

She held her breath and peered over the edge.

"A man," she breathed, staring down at the man curled in the midst of the crater.

He was on his side, skin bare and golden. Her cheeks warmed as her curious eyes dipped to his muscled thighs.

Steam curled from the blackened edges of the crater, wafting from his strong shoulders and the entirety of his flesh.

She leaned closer; the edge gave way, and she tumbled down into the crater. She gave a low sound of shock as her knees slammed into the packed dirt.

She rose, palms flat against the scorched dirt. It was hotter here. Almost burned to touch.

She reached out, hand shaking, as she touched her fingertip to his shoulder. He did not stir.

Her wide eyes fell to his chest. She caught the steady rising and falling motion.

His black hair rustled faintly where it fell into his eyes.

His lips were parted. She hovered her palm before his mouth, feeling the hot breath he breathed.

A low sound emitted from his chest, like a deep groan of a mountain shifting before a quake.

She jerked her hand away and scrambled back. Sediment fell into her brown hair, turning it white.

His chest hitched. She watched his eyes move behind his closed lids before his eyes opened in a sharp motion. They were wide and clear.

And dark as the night sky above.

They fell right to her.

She froze.

The man sat up slowly with a pained moan. His legs shifted, revealing his manhood. Her eyes widened.

"Who are you?"

The man’s voice made her jerk her frightened gaze back to his face.

She tried to speak, but words escaped her—all that came out was a soft wheeze of air.

He spoke again, tone wavering. "Where am I?"

"Y-you’re in Luxuria," the girl managed. No recognition sparked in the man’s eyes as she said the name of her village.

"Luxuria," he echoed. He spoke strangely, his words stilted.

Her fingers dug into the warm dirt beneath her.

"Who are you?" he repeated. The waver to his tone had ebbed the longer she sat there, staring at him—as if he deemed her to be no threat.

"My name?" she whispered.

He dipped his chin, not quite a nod. It was too jerky for that.

"My father wouldn’t like me telling a strange man my name. He’s waiting for me. He’ll miss me if I—disappear."

He stared at her, his black eyes unnerving. "Is this"—he paused, thinking—"Stella?"

Now it was her turn to stare. "Of course."

Maybe she was still beneath the willow, asleep. Or perhaps she’d hit her head and been knocked unconscious.

Their home of origin, Stella—a place in which everyone came. Named for the power in their veins, the stories said. It was basic lessons learned in youth. She herself learned of Stella and the various continents and villages when she was five summers old.

"Are you hurt?" she asked suddenly.

He groaned as he shifted. His fingertips were reddened like he’d waved his hand over a flame.

"I saw you—" Her voice dropped, incredulous. "You fell from this sky. This must still be a dream. Men do not fall from the sky."

She touched her head and winced as her fingers hit the sore bump at the back. "I must be having a fevered vision."

Her lids fluttered as she prodded the back of her head. That was why she missed him when he suddenly appeared right before her.

The man had risen on his knees, one hand outstretched. There was no difference between the Stars speckling the sky and his eyes. Both held a little piece of something extraordinary within.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was tremulous.

"Something is causing you pain," the man said lowly—as if that were enough.

He reached for her, and she had nowhere else to run. She was forced into stillness as he pressed his fingers against her temples. At the first touch, a sigh escaped her. His hands were warm like the sun, his touch firm yet delicate.

His fingers traced over the side of her head until he pressed that throbbing spot at the back of her skull. She winced, but he did not pull away.

Soft white light filled the air, faint at first. As the ache in the back of her head dissipated, the light increased for one startling moment, then went out. His hand was still on her head.

"What was that?" she breathed. "What did you do?"

Instead of answering, he stood. Heart in her throat, her eyes traveled up the length of him—from his muscled thighs to the ash dusting his skin, and lingering at his manhood.

He made a low sound. She looked up. He stared down at her, black eyes filled with fiery interest.

He turned to leave, moving with ease, feet finding solid hold on the crumbling dirt. She followed in the large footprints he left.

He kept walking, away from the burnt flowers, straight toward the forest, shifting with shadows.

She stumbled after him. "Don’t go!" she called, the words ripped from within her.

He turned, revealing his profile. The Stars illuminated him.

"Go," he said.

She did not know much, a girl of only eighteen summers. She knew the sun was warm when it was closer to their planet, that the lake grew coated in thick ice in the cold months, and her favorite fruits were sweet berries, grown in the mountains.

And she knew she did not want to let this strange man go.

"Why? Where are you going to go?"

He turned back away from her. "Away."

"You fell from the sky. I saw it—and you wish for me to leave? Where did you come from? Why are you here?"

When she was only an arm’s length away, the air grew charged. That white light sparked, lingering in the air, drifting over her arms as if tasting her.

Her Stella rushed to the surface, unbidden. Blue light raced over her arms, rising to greet his magic. When their magic touched, everything stilled. Peace enveloped her.

Then he turned and gave her his full attention.

His throat dipped. Ash streaked his golden skin.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly.

"You won’t harm me if I tell you?"

She knew what happened to girls who spoke to strange men. Her reputation was already stained—an outcast due to her Stella.

She knew no others who held the power of Aether as she did. People hated what they didn’t know.

His lips twitched, as if holding back a smile. "I will not," he said simply.

She swallowed, fingers twisting in her skirts. "My name is Vesperin Vox."