Chapter 16
“The Wraiths have overrun the Peaks. Their shadows and unholy fire ensnare us. Their whispers call to us from the darkest caves and deepest gorges. The Drengr and their Drakari are spread thin. I will send what I can. I await your falcon.”
Celestial War Correspondence of Lord Fafnir of the SkyForge Peaks, Steward of Rage to King Illias, Ruler of the Celestial Court, King of Astradeon
MORNING IN THE LUSH COUNTRYSIDE of Virellia was sacred. A kind of peace Astraia had never managed in her own life wrapped around her as she packed up her sparse belongings and readied Orion for the road to Volpes.
The night had been restless—too many unanswered questions, all clawing at her mind.
She had no idea what she was going to do once she reached the city, or if it even led to sanctuary for her.
A small part of her still clung to the foolish hope that Volpes would be a place to disappear.
Somewhere she could melt into garden walls and be forgotten.
But the realist in her knew the truth, sharp and nauseating: no matter how far she ran, her past would always find her.
Then there was the question of him.
She dared a glance toward the bounty hunter as he saddled his horse, every movement precise, practiced—annoyingly graceful. Tension hung thick in the space between them, but neither had made a move to shatter the silence.
It seemed impossible that it had only been a few days since she held her dagger to his throat in Tenebris, when he crashed into her life and forever altered her path.
She felt as if she had known him for eternity.
For the first time since Elion had blinked out of existence, she did not hate herself or her bonds.
Astraia was still unsure what was more frightening, the fact that she was breaking down walls for him, letting him see the unfiltered parts of her soul.
Or that she no longer cared what his true intentions were.
One thing was certain: Draven was dangerous.
Astraia refocused on Orion, swinging her leg over the saddle.
“Let’s be off then. I’d rather sleep in a bed that doesn’t smell like dirt,” she called, slinging her bow over one shoulder.
Draven raised an eyebrow. “One night on the ground too much for you, Starborne?”
He nudged his mount forward without waiting.
“The ground’s not the problem, bounty hunter.” Astraia urged Orion into a brisk walk along the Volpes road. “I’ve simply little patience for egotistical brutes who hide their motives.”
She kept her gaze fixed on the ribbon of dirt ahead—anything to avoid looking at him. Last night’s confessions still roared in her head, clashing with the memory of his blade, his repeated rescues, and his unspoken agenda.
Draven’s smirk drifted into her peripheral vision. “You seemed perfectly patient watching me in the river.”
Astraia’s jaw clenched. He’d always known exactly which nerve to rub. She tapped her heels into Orion’s flank and lifted into a trot, swallowing what she really wanted to say.
They did not speak for several hours, a heavy silence blanketing the tension between them. Astraia welcomed the reprieve, exhausted from the toll of the past few days on her mind and body.
She had transformed from a shadow healer to fugitive Starborne on the run with a stars-forsaken bounty hunter as her companion.
Elion would have never let me live this down.
A small piece of her grieved the life she was leaving behind in Orastrea. She had no belongings to speak of, except the celestial blade and Starwood bow she now carried. But the small piece of the world she had carved from nothing was the only home she had known for five years.
The future was a void—the moment of time that bridged dreams and the cold harshness of reality. So much potential and promise that could be lost with the flick of a blade.
Astraia dared a glance at the massive man riding beside her. His face was maddeningly calm. Not even a wrinkle of worry creased his forehead. But then, why should he concern himself with the verdict of her life when he was, in fact, one of the paths to her destruction?
Her back stiffened with the thought that Draven was toying with her for his amusement. That he enjoyed the hunt and prolonging the inevitable end—her hands in shackles or his iron sword in her back.
It was there on the grassy dirt road to Volpes that Astraia decided Draven needed to disappear.
***
The grassy roads twisting through Virellia moved harmoniously with the landscape of rolling hills and river valleys.
The scenery gave any travelers a welcomed sight of luscious greenery and fertility, which was in stark opposition to the death and decay that infested not only Astradeon’s people, but also its lands after the Shattering.
All the air in the realm was thick with centuries-old destruction, but not in Virellia.
Here, the Starborne of Desire flourished.
The roads were not heavily traveled, but a few merchants with their carts laden with goods passed by Astraia. Their smiles would quickly disappear, eyes shifting away when they noticed her brute companion—no doubt nearly soiling themselves at the sight of him.
The bounty hunter remained emotionless most of the time, his lips set in a permanent scowl and his eyes slightly narrowed as if disgusted by everyone and everything around him or simply annoyed—Astraia could not decipher which was truer.
If his face did not deter onlookers, his physique, armor, and weaponry certainly would.
She was still curious as to the origin of his Drakari-scaled armor as it was not from the Celestial Court, and his black iron broadsword that was eerily similar to the black metal of her dagger.
The soft pounding of their horse’s hooves on grass began to lull Astraia asleep as the day stretched on.
They had only stopped once to let the horses rest, but still had at least a day's journey ahead of them. The sun’s beams were flickering through the trees beside the road, casting golden rays onto Orion and warming Astraia as she rode beside a small stream that abutted the trail.
“We should camp here for the night,” Draven said, guiding his horse to a large open space next to the stream, several paces from the road.
Astraia did not argue as she swung down from Orion’s saddle, her back and legs aching for solid ground.
She led Orion to the stream and sat next to him on the grassy bank, relishing in the coolness of the afternoon and the serenity of the crystal-clear water bubbling over rocks.
She removed the cloak from her head and closed her eyes, letting tiredness seep into her bones.
Until she could sense a large, annoying presence standing behind her. Her eyes flashed open, narrowing on his face.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Starborne.” Draven smirked. “We have more training to do.”
“You seem to take a great deal of pleasure in exhausting me.”
His voice lowered, deepening as he stared at her eyes. A muscle flexed in his neck. “There are far more enjoyable ways I could exhaust you.”
Astraia froze. Her eyes flashed to his lips, achingly close to hers. Her body betrayed her as it reacted, pulse thrumming and bonds blazing to life, caressing her spine and heating the air between them. Stars, what is happening to me?
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she whispered through clenched teeth, making Draven smile wider as she struggled to remain calm.
“Until I can trust that you won’t burst into flame, you are a liability. So yes, you will train. This is not up for debate.”
“I am not a liability,” she snapped, arms crossed.
“The stable at the Capri Inn would prove otherwise,” he replied, eyebrows raised.
Astraia cursed, stalking past the bounty hunter without another glance.
Turning sharply on her heel in the clearing, she pulled off her cloak, flinging it on the forest floor, and faced Draven.
A small smile crept onto his face as he also discarded his cloak, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his tattoos and scars.
Astraia’s core heated at the sight of him, making her teeth clench.
“Now that your tether is more secure, I want you to try to anchor faster,” he said as he approached her, unsheathing his broadsword. The muscles of his arms flexed as he gripped the hilt of his sword firmly in both hands.
Astraia swallowed a lump in her throat, thinking of how his arms would feel around her waist, his warm, calloused hands on her hips. She let out a breath, shaking the ridiculous notions clouding her mind.
Nodding to her opponent, she dove into her bond, latching onto her tether and throwing it immediately down into the earth, anchoring to the roots of the trees and flinging it to the skies.
Her anchor grabbed onto every wisp of cloud and ray of sun as it poured from her, locking her bond in place.
White light burst from her fingers, her eyes glowing as she stared at Draven.
“Good. Now channel it into one steady stream, like an arrow. Don’t let it overtake you.” He looked at her hands, raising his sword to shield his body.
Astraia’s pulse quickened, feeling Power thrumming in her core, begging to be unleashed on everything living and breathing in the forest. “I’m afraid. What if I can’t control it?” Her voice quivered, fear creeping into her mind, making her anchor waver.
“You can. See your bond as an extension of yourself, not a weakness.” His voice was firm, but kind.
She steeled herself, planting her feet and straightened her shoulders.
Diving deeper into her bond, she let it extend beyond her fingers and into her palms. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and her ears rang with each breath.
The forest blurred around her. Her vision sharpened and narrowed on Draven as she breathed deeper and pulled more of her bond to the surface.
The streams of white light crackled in her palms, lashing out to the ground around her, lapping at Draven’s boots.
“Concentrate!” he shouted through the crackling, but his voice was muffled in her ears.