Chapter 6 #2
She reached for the tether to her bonds, finding the box in her mind easily, and snatched the lid wide open. Her bond flared to life, filling every pore of her existence.
A bright, brilliant light burst from her, filling the glen surrounding them, ricocheting off the river surface.
I am Starlight. I will not fall.
The two wolves faltered at the sight of her power, but they recovered. Their legs tensed and within seconds, they leaped for her.
A flash of dark silver arced through the light.
One of the wolves let out a gurgling yelp and crumpled, a broadsword buried deep in its flank.
Before Astraia could even blink, a figure burst from the shadows, cloak billowing, sword already spinning for a second strike.
Draven.
The air rippled with heat as he moved, Astraia’s light catching the muscles of his forearms. Pure rage, just barely caged. Controlled.
The second wolf lunged. Draven ducked beneath it, dragging his blade upward in a wide arc that split it clean open. Blood soaked the ground. Red eyes now vacant.
Silence fell.
Astraia dropped her bow, chest heaving. Her bond pulsed in her spine—relieved. She tugged on her tether, watching the light surrounding her dissipate.
Draven turned, blood on his blade. Astraia noticed gray smoke coiling from his skin as his eyes fell to hers.
“You are terrible at running,” he growled.
As much as it pained Astraia to admit it, she was grateful to see the bounty hunter. That was twice now that he had aided her. She wasn’t sure if she was more irritated that he found her again…or relieved.
Probably a bit of both.
“How did you find me?” she asked, feeling for her blade at her side.
“Not even a thank you, Starborne?” He wiped his broadsword clean on the beast’s fur, sheathing it leisurely on his back, as he strode up to her.
Astraia wanted to kill him. His ego had clearly been left unchecked, and she would happily oblige to bestow some humility upon the bounty hunter.
But her anger was two-fold. She had been reckless, letting those monsters get remotely close to her while she slept. If not for her bond, she would have been wolf prey.
Astraia stepped forward, matching his arrogance with pointed disdain. He stiffened but did not move.
A familiar pine and smoke smell lingered in the small space between them.
“So that’s your game?” she seethed, “Let me nearly die just to sweep in at the last second and play hero?”
He returned her stare, not a shred of empathy or softness reflecting back at her. “I told you, protecting my asset. It’s not profitable for you to die—yet.”
She flinched at the word yet.
“You waited until I was about to die,” she seethed, voice rising in frustration.
That devilish smile that made Astraia’s pulse throb crept back onto his face. “You looked like you needed a lesson.”
Her blood boiled. “Lesson?”
“Maybe now you’ll think twice before slapping horses and running blind into cursed woods.”
They stood there, breathing hard. His face was too close to hers, with an irritatingly calm expression. His hand still rested on the hilt of his blade, as if contemplating if she was done being a threat.
“Stars! I should have killed you!” she yelled, whirling away from Draven, anger threatening to unleash her bonds. She marched to where Orion had retreated closer to the river.
“You flared,” he called after her, tone quieter now. “And it wasn’t Sacrifice.”
Astraia froze mid-step. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” He paused. “I’ve never seen a flare so strong. That was Power.”
Her breath caught. Her bond stirred—almost like it was listening too. “You’re not safe.”
He tilted his head. “Neither are you.”
“How do you know about Sacrifice?” She quipped.
“You think the alleyway was the first time I had seen you?” he chuckled, “your little escapades into the slums were quite entertaining to watch. What exactly were you trying to accomplish? It was like spitting on a housefire.”
“How dare you,” she seethed. Her hand lit with a white flare of Power, a pulse of warning light between them.
He did not flinch, but stared at her hand like it was a particularly stupid animal. “You flare like a child throwing a tantrum,” he pointed out. “No wonder everyone wants you dead.”
He withdrew a set of cold iron manacles from his cloak. The runes etched into them pulsed faintly—dull, silencing, wrong.
“Come one step closer with those, and we’ll see if the color of your blood matches that black heart of yours,” she hissed, hand hovering above the hilt of her dagger.
He did not heed her warning, stepping toward her, the crunch of scorched grass cutting through the forest. “You nearly lit the forest on fire. Again. I’m not dragging a star-flaring liability into Aquarian unless I’m sure you won’t incinerate the first person who looks at you sideways.”
She clenched her fists. “You don’t get to chain me like some cursed beast.”
“Try to run again, and I’ll knock you unconscious and haul you in over my saddle.”
She could feel every hair on her body stand on end, her bonds screaming at her to run, to fight, to make sure this hunter never laid a hand on another Starborne again. White and blue light lit her fingertips, demanding to be unleashed once more.
“You see?” he said quietly. “Even now, you’re not in control.”
She stared at him and the foreboding manacles in his calloused hands. Her pulse quickened, and the forest around her stilled in anticipation as he stepped within arm’s reach, eyeing her with a smirk.
She did not think. She grounded her weight, tightening her core, and threw her right fist toward his jaw.
A warm strong hand wrapped around her wrist mid-air, squeezing intensely, forcing her fingers to splay.
“You son of a—”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It isn’t personal.”
A deafening click resounded in her ears as cold smooth metal closed around her right wrist. Before she could blink, the second manacle snapped shut around her other wrist.
The flare at her fingertips was snuffed out, vanishing without a trace. Overwhelming silence coated her mind.
Astraia stumbled backward, her vision swimming as her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees. A wave of nausea rolled through her as she broke out in a cold sweat, her clothes suddenly too tight and the air far too thin.
She felt hollow. Empty.
“I hope you burn with Dominion,” she spat, raising her head to meet his eyes.
He knelt in front of her, the insufferable smirk lingering on the corner of his mouth. “As long as I get my cut, Starborne.”
As Draven tied Astraia’s shackled hands to Orion’s saddle, she clawed through the murkiness of her mind, aimlessly searching for her bonds to no avail. It was like screaming in an empty room with no windows, no doors, no one to answer her pleas.
Her captor did not utter another word as he tied a rope from Orion’s bridle to his own horse and set off on the road to Aquarian.
“You have no idea what you’ve done, bounty hunter.” She spoke barely above a whisper, lacing hatred in every syllable as she shot daggers from her eyes at the back of his head.
“I know exactly what I’ve done, Starborne,” he replied, peering over his shoulder.
“I’ve kept you alive.”