Chapter 16 #2
The blinding white light of her hands crept up her arms and pulsed from her chest, blanketing the forest in the glare, as though the realm had been drained of color. Astraia clung to her tether, pushing down the fear that threatened to consume her.
Control it. Control it. Control it.
White streams of light burst from her—unwieldy, wild, erratic. It jumped into the air with a life of its own, latching onto anything breathing surrounding her. The horses reared, jumping out of the way of the rogue streams. Another flash of pure Power leapt forward, straight toward Draven.
Astraia started to scream, but before the warning crossed her lips, Draven brought his broadsword up in one sweep.
The light met his blade, a loud crack reverberating off the steel. She was certain the metal had shattered, killing the bounty hunter, reliving her worst nightmare in real time. But as the light ebbed, the metal blade held fast—edges glowing red and smoking.
Draven’s insufferable smirk was visible through the plumes of smoke. As Astraia drew her bond back, the light ebbed and retreated away from him and once again pulsed in her hands.
“Again. Concentrate. Command it.” He spoke as one who had conquered his own bonds to bend to his will. A small shred of doubt itched the back of her mind.
How does he know so much?
Before she could dwell on the possibilities, he was shouting at her again. Unfaltering, unfazed by the chaos, he pushed her to limits she had never crossed with her bonds. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Concentrate. Command it.
Grasping her tether firmly in her mind, she commanded her bond to tighten, willing it to yield. The light flashed around her body once then flowed back into her arms and hands, before it morphed into the shape of a sword. A sword made entirely of brilliant white light—a sword of Starlight.
Astraia blinked, gasping for breath, looking at the blade within her hands.
“Now, let’s see what you can do.” He grinned, lunging for her with his sword.
She did not balk at his advance, snapping the light blade up to defend against his attack. The white light collided with his broadsword and crackled on impact. His black blade responded, glowing red with white smoke billowing from the point where the blades touched.
Teeth clenched, Astraia pushed against Draven’s firm stance, trying to unbalance him.
“All that Power, and you can’t even drive me away,” he breathed, making her skin pebble.
Astraia pushed once more with her blade, except this time she dropped her right hand and placed her palm on his abdomen. His muscles flexed beneath her touch, and with a smile, she forced her bond into her hand, slamming hard against his frame.
Draven’s eyes went wide as he was thrown backward, his entire body, soaring through the air, until he landed with a splash in the stream several paces away.
He coughed as he sat up in the stream, water dripping down his face. “I believe you have channeled your Power bond,” he rasped, standing slowly.
Astraia laughed, pulling on her tether and willing the light to fade from her hands.
The white Starlight blade flickered and vanished.
She looked at her hands, surveying for wounds she knew would not be there, awestruck at what she had just managed to accomplish.
Her gaze lifted to meet Draven’s as he walked out of the stream, wet clothes clinging to his frame. Her pulse quickened at the sight.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he strode up to her, looking her over for any sign of harm.
“Me? I just flung you halfway across Virellia,” she said in disbelief, trying to keep her focus on his face instead of his wet tunic.
He chuckled. “Worried about me?”
She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I should have remembered your inflated ego would cushion your fall.”
That insufferable smirk graced his lips, and she fought the urge to slap it off his face. He stepped away from her, making for his saddle bag, then turned to face her once more. This time, he held something much more frightening than any bond in his hands—the iron manacles.
***
Astraia unsheathed the dagger at her thigh, grasping it so tight her knuckles turned white as she angled herself to face him. Her muscles tightened, ready to defend herself, and her bonds flared again in the center of her spine.
“Just what do you think you’re doing with those?” she demanded, fuming. He was a fool if he thought she would let him put those horrific devices back on her.
“Easy. Hear me out,” he started, holding up one hand in protest. “You’re a strong fighter with your bonds, willing to burn yourself and everyone else to ash if you need to.
And you’re decent with a bow and dagger from what I’ve seen.
” His voice was even, calm, despite holding the one weapon in the entire realm she feared most. “But when you were attacked by those men in the stables, you lost your tether. You’re getting stronger, but what if you can’t access your power again one day?
And what if you don’t have a weapon? What then, Starborne? ”
There was no condescension in his tone. If Astraia did not know any better, she would have thought there was even an inkling of concern from the bounty hunter.
“Come closer with those, and I’ll show you,” she hissed, still poised to cut off his hands if he advanced.
“Fine. Prove it.” He stopped walking toward her, holding the manacles in one hand. The chain between them clanking together set her teeth on edge.
“I won’t go down without a fight,” she replied, deadpan.
“I would expect nothing less. Show me you can defend yourself. No weapons. No bonds. Just you.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say I’m protecting my asset.”
Astraia still held her stance, unconvinced of his true motives. Her bonds thrummed against her spine, ready to channel at the first sign of danger, but he did not move. The two of them stood in the forest at a stalemate.
“Look, I’ll give you the key,” he said as he pulled the metal key from around his neck, holding it out toward her.
She eyed it warily, but her mind jumped at the prospect of holding the literal key to her freedom in her own hands. “And you will help me remove them when I have proven I can?”
“Yes.”
Relaxing her hands, she sheathed her dagger, then extended her right hand.
Without blinking, Draven dropped the key into her open hand.
The small key appeared so insignificant, but the weight of it in her palm was liberating.
Exhaling, she placed the chain holding the key around her neck.
The cool metal met her bare skin, making her shiver, both from the cold and from the implications the key possessed.
“I need your hands, Starborne.” Draven held out the manacles, unlocked and ready to claim their victim.
Dread pooled in her stomach, but Astraia stifled her fear, burying it deep into her mind.
She was a Starborne—chains would not hold her.
She took the remaining step forward until their chests were a hand’s breadth apart and grabbed the manacles.
This time, she smirked at the bounty hunter as he snapped both of the cuffs in place around her wrists.
Darkness claimed her.
Her mind became devoid of all emotion, dampening access to her tether and her bonds.
She could tell Power and Sacrifice were still connected to her, but hidden behind a cage— impenetrable and inaccessible.
Astraia breathed deeply through her nose, acclimating to the chasm in her soul, before looking directly into Draven’s eyes with pure contempt.
In the blink of an eye, he had unsheathed her dagger and was pointing it under her chin. She stiffened as the cold point grazed her skin. Impulsively, her mind searched for her tether, ready to channel Power and knock the brute onto his back to wipe the grin off his face.
Only to find nothing. Not a whisper of Power was left to flare. It was just Astraia, just the abandoned warrior from the slums that greeted her.
“I’m waiting,” he taunted, holding her dagger steady.
She edged her face closer to him, until their breaths mingled, hot and humid in the forest air. Draven’s focus faltered for just a moment, letting his eyes fall to her lips.
It was all the time she needed.
Raising her right foot, she slammed the heel of her boot down onto the side of his foot. He groaned and lost his balance for a split second, removing the Celestial dagger from her chin.
Astraia took advantage of his unsteadiness, shoving her shackled wrists upward as hard as she could onto the wrist holding the blade. Forcefully, she twisted her arms, capturing his wrist between the chains and rolled his forearm in the opposite direction.
He grunted, grabbing for her chains with his free hand, but she would not relent. The dagger dropped from his hand, landing by their feet. She righted her hands, but Draven was already moving, grabbing her forearms and yanking her chest flush with his.
“You need to hurt me like you mean it,” he breathed in her face.
“You mean like this?” Astraia did not hesitate. Driving her knee upward, it met its mark, right between the bounty hunter’s legs.
His grip promptly loosened as he bent over, groaning as he struggled to remain upright.
A boot blurred beside her fingers, kicking the dagger across the grassy clearing. Cursing, she spun on her feet, rushing for the blade, but not before her feet were yanked out from under her. She fell to the forest floor with a thud, air whooshing from her lungs on impact.
Scrambling, she flung her weight to one side and managed to roll onto her back, but Draven was already upon her, pinning her to the ground.
Her shackled wrists were thrown above her head, held down with calloused hands.
A frustrated roar ripped from her throat as she attempted to wriggle her body free of his weight, but it was useless. A mountain would be easier to move.
“Yield.”
“You’ll have to break me first,” she spat, twisting beneath his hold.
“Fine.”
A snap echoed above her head, followed by sharp, stabbing pain shooting down her arm. She yelled, cursing him. He had broken her wrist.
“Now, do you yield?’
“You broke my Stars-damned wrist!” she bellowed, gritting her teeth from the pain. True pain. Pain that had been muted for years since Sacrifice chose her. It was excruciating.
“Others will not be as kind.” He narrowed his eyes on her, refusing to budge.
“I yield. Just get off me!” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut, wrist throbbing.
He paused, then stood, releasing her arms and stepping over her. Cradling her wrist, Astraia clumsily rose. The manacles constricted her injured wrist as it began to swell, throbbing in sync with her heartbeat.
Whipping around to face the bounty hunter, her voice menacing, she said, “You had no right.”
“I had every right. You were sloppy and you failed, miserably,” he droned, arms crossed as a statue of indifference.
“Unbind me so that I can heal.” She marched over to him, wincing as each step pounded the earth and ricocheted through her broken bones. As soon as the manacles were off, she would beat the apathy off his pretty face.
“No.”
She halted, eyes wide, temper rising. “You said you would take them off the moment I asked you.”
“No, I said I would remove them when you proved to me you could defend yourself. I remain sorely unconvinced.” His eyebrow quirked, eyeing the wrist she held close to her chest.
“And how, pray tell, do I convince you with a broken wrist?” Malice dripped from every syllable as she spoke.
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her waist and spun her around, back to him. Despite her resentment toward him for breaking her bones, a thrill ran up her spine at his touch, making her stomach flip. Her eyes widened at the sensation, and she swallowed hard.
“You need to unbalance your opponent. Catch them off guard. Eyes, nose, ears, any way to disrupt their senses is easiest, but in this position…” He slid a hand down her unbroken left arm, angling her elbow and pushing it back into his side. “I would go for the spleen. Drive your elbow backward.”
He dropped his hand and turned her around to face him. “Once they are distracted, get them on their knees. I believe you have already proven you can successfully do that.” He smirked, then gently held her manacled wrists in his hands.
Her wrist still throbbed, but the adrenaline racing through her blood dulled the pain.
They were frighteningly close, her chest shuddering with each breath.
She could smell pine and wood smoke from his skin, could feel the warmth of his body against hers, could hear the thundering of his heart matching hers beat for beat.
The entire forest blurred around her. She was hopelessly adrift in the essence of the bounty hunter.
“Now you can use the chains or your arms to choke them out from behind.” His hands lingered on her wrists. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered, afraid if she spoke any louder, the forest floor might collapse beneath her.
“You are stronger than your bonds. Use that strength. Never hesitate. Your opponent will not offer you the same mercy.”
Then Draven released his hands and stepped backward. A rush of cool air passed between them, cutting through the tension. Astraia was not sure if she wanted to sigh in relief or scream in frustration.
“May I?” He gestured toward the chain around her neck, holding the key to the manacles.
She nodded, remaining motionless as he reached for the chain.
The tenderness of his fingers skimming over her exposed skin above her chest made her breath hitch.
Time slowed—and there was no bond to blame.
Just the slightest touch of his hand made her skin sing, her head spin, and her heart open a little more.
The chain came over her head and passed through her dark hair.
She heard a soft click, and the manacles gave way.
Emotions burst into her mind, pounding against every corner until spots danced before her eyes.
Blinking, she watched as Draven tucked the key under his tunic and stored the shackles in his saddlebag once again.
“You should rest and heal. I’ll start a fire,” he said, walking away from her toward the stream without a second glance.
Sacrifice bloomed in her core and coolness wrapped around her wrist, the broken bones sliding into their proper place. At that moment, Astraia realized there was, in fact, something more dangerous than manacles. More consuming than her bonds.
And it had captured her with golden pools of amber.