Chapter 30 #2
Spots danced in her vision, and the back of her neck was damp with sweat. It was not possible. Could not be possible.
Draven cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “I woke from the dream and knew I had to return. But when I got to Volpes, you had already left. That squirrely butler was hesitant to give me your route, but I am…persuasive.”
“Draven,” she started, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I had the same dream.”
“What?”
“Probably the same night. It was my nightmare. But this time, you saved me before I destroyed them.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, holding his bewildered stare.
“The Stars. They must have been speaking to us,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have left. They knew it too.”
“Why did you? You say it was to save me, but…” Her voice lowered, unsure.
“But what?”
“You never asked if that’s what I wanted,” she said. She now realized how angry she had been when he left her, claiming it was for her own good. But she knew it vexed her more than she had been willing to admit.
“What is it you want then, Starborne?” He stepped closer, his breath warm on her face, the scent of him overpowering her, clouding her thoughts.
It was hard to breathe, hard to think clearly with his body so close to hers. Her bonds pulsed in her spine, a burst of warmth flooding her body, enhancing her senses. It was almost too intoxicating to bear.
“The truth,” she replied, voice firm and demanding. She was tired of the hidden agendas, hidden half-truths, hidden feelings. She was tired of standing on the precipice of uncertainty—she needed something real.
“The truth is complicated,” he said, staring at her.
“Enlighten me.”
“Very well.” He stepped back from her. The space between them felt like a chasm, cold and dangerous.
His shoulders tensed, jaw clenched. Then he sighed before he spoke, his voice calm and even.
“It’s true that my father was bonded to Rage.
That was not a lie. But I am also bonded to Rage.
It is somewhat of a generational right.”
“Go on,” she urged, crossing her arms.
“Many years ago, my father… He died. In battle. He and the entire legion of warriors with him.”
Astraia held her breath, and a palpable silence filled the air, but he did not stop.
“His death was my doing. The enemy swarmed us, and I was too far from him to render aid. Even with his bond, he was overtaken. I watched him fall, and the anger… I flared uncontrollably. I killed them. The enemy. The legion. I woke days later under the care of a healer who had found me. But something had been broken that day. Now, I cannot access my full bond, my true form.”
He paused, glancing up at the black abyss, then back at her. The pain and grief he bore laid bare before her, plainly written on his face. He had suffered as greatly as she had—cursed by bonds they never chose.
“But you—you were the one who told me to believe the Stars answered, that they lived. How could you after what they took from you?” She grappled with the truth, that he was Starborne, that he flared and others paid the price, just as she had.
Yet he still clung to the Stars, to an undeserved faith.
“I believe because they speak to me too, Traia. Rage, he speaks to me. The Star is my tether. The healer taught me how to harness my bond, channel it, and I found Rage in the darkness. Evil will forever lurk in the shadows, on the edge of the night, ready to break those who would stray from the light. But the light is an ever-fixed mark. You need only to allow it to burn.”
He began walking toward her once more, closing the gap between them with every step.
“I knew that day, when you flared with the wraith, that you were strong, but you clung to your grief, letting it consume you in darkness. You just needed to allow the light to burn brighter for the Stars to answer you.”
Astraia swallowed hard, choking down tears. Years of regret, grief, guilt marred her soul. Thoughts of Elion burning by her hand threatened to consume her yet again. The darkness flirted with the edge of her mind, waiting to ensnare her in despair, eager to pollute her light.
Your light drowned in their blood. Darkness will always prevail, the blackness hissed.
A warm hand grasped her own, yanking her back from the edge, rescuing her yet again.
She looked into Draven’s eyes, seeing more than just a bounty hunter, more than just a Starborne.
She saw a reflection of herself, torn apart by the evil of the world and compelled by the Stars—pawns in the war between light and dark.
“I fear the darkness will consume me. It haunts me even now,” she whispered, unable to stop the tear that escaped and slid down her cheek.
Gently, he placed a hand on the side of her face, his fingers intertwining in her hair as he wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“The grief will remain. But the darkness will only take hold if you allow it. And you are more than your grief. You are kind, strong, fierce, unashamed of fighting for good in a fallen world.” His voice was low and gentle as he lowered his hand from her face, his other hand unmoved from hers.
She slowed her breaths and closed her eyes, bracing herself for answers to the questions she was nearly too afraid to ask. Blinking, she steadied her voice. “Why are you here? Why have you not taken me to the king?”
Silence.
Seconds felt like hours as she waited with bated breath. Unable to move, to breathe, to think, she waited. Nausea rolled through her stomach, and a cold sweat beaded on the back of her neck. The words he spoke now would decide her fate—break her or choose her.
He breathed deeply, fixing his gaze on her. “Traia, I—”
A door creaked open from behind them, and Draven dropped her hand, unsheathing his dagger just as Astraia whipped around with her own dagger drawn.
The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the manor, illuminating a tall figure standing in the doorway. The man walked closer toward them, dark tousled hair blowing in the breeze.
“Caelan?” Astraia asked, relaxing her stance as he strode through the starblooms.
“Stars, Traia. Do you always carry that dagger?” His smile morphed into a slight frown as Draven came to stand next to her, dagger still in hand.
“That is an asinine question, as you already know the answer,” she replied, sheathing her dagger and crossing her arms. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“I could ask you the same question. I went to your suite, and can you imagine my surprise when I found you were missing?” His eyes narrowed, darting between her and Draven.
“I am not your pet, Caelan. I may come and go as I please, with whom I please, and speak with whoever I please.” She rolled her shoulders back, standing straighter. Her Power bond flared to life with her anger, rushing to the top of her skin.
“Even with him? A bounty hunter whose intentions remain questionable at best?” Caelan glowered at Draven, his eyes flashing a brilliant green as his own Desire bond surged.
Draven stepped closer to Astraia’s side, his hand just barely grazing hers, sending sparks through her arm and into her spine. Her Power bond lurched at the touch, frantic to be released. The bounty hunter cleared his throat, his arm muscles flexing subtly as he stared down Caelan.
“No one gets to decide who she speaks to.” His voice was rough, commanding, and she could have sworn flames danced behind his eyes. The heat from his body intensified, radiating from the hand that touched hers.
“Enough!” she shouted in exasperation. “Caelan, you owe him your life. As do I. If that does not grant him clemency, I do not know what does.”
“You…trust him? You know nothing of him! He may have saved our lives, but remember why he is really here.” Caelan shot Draven a look of disdain, green glowing from his fingertips as he struggled to maintain control of his bond.
“I do. And he has earned my trust. That should be enough for you.” She steadied her voice despite the fact she was fuming.
Draven tensed next to her, his heat ebbing with her proclamation. They might have begun their journey as a hunter and prey, but somewhere along the way they had transformed into something more—and she sensed he knew it too.
“Very well. I trust you. So if you say he is noble, I will honor your judgment.” Caelan crossed his arms, the green glow fading from his hands as he stood under the moonlight.
“Great. Now that you have come to your senses, I am going to bed before I kill both of you for being ridiculous,” she snapped, marching past Caelan and throwing open the door to the manor.
Without looking back, she stomped back to her room. She threw herself onto the bed, and exhaustion swept over her. She let her eyes close, imagining a set of warm tattooed hands caressing her skin beneath the sheets. She cursed as she drifted off to sleep.