Chapter 36
Thus, stewards are gifted with abilities and far longer years, to protect the Starborne and oversee the realm, as commanded by the Constellations.
The Empyrean Scrolls (Remnants of the holy text)
THE SILENT RIDE OUT OF Asynjur smothered Astraia with unspoken half-truths, which was quickly becoming the bounty hunter’s modus operandi.
She had labored under the illusion that one day he would open his mouth and every single truth, whether evil or good, would spill out.
But she knew better than to expect the extraordinary.
There was one fact she had learned from her years of pain and torment: trust was not earned; it was sharpened into a blade—then buried in your back.
Heat flooded her face, and this time it was not from her bonds, nor was it from his closeness.
Frustration bubbled beneath her skin, making her grip her reins tightly.
She tried to take deep breaths, to calm herself before her bonds ripped open.
His actions and secrets should not vex her as much as they did, but no matter what falsehood she told herself, she knew the real reason she reacted with such intensity.
She cared.
She cared whether he lived or died.
She cared if he trusted her or lied to her.
She cared about his past, present, and future.
She cared that she was part of his life.
And it tormented her.
Because everyone and everything that she had ever cared for had been ripped from her—her identity, family, home, friends, purpose. She was like the Plague, to be avoided at all costs and deadly if allowed too close.
Her heart beat faster, the realization of her feelings for the man sent to capture her overwhelming her senses.
Unable to hold back her emotions, her bonds burst to life in her spine and flooded her arms and legs, making them feel weightless.
She closed her eyes and pulled on the golden thread of her tether, willing the Stars to quiet the bonds.
The taste of metal coated her tongue, and she blinked in surprise.
She had not realized she was biting her cheek.
A low rumble vibrated across the late afternoon sky, silencing the internal battle she had waged in her mind.
Craning her neck, she peered through the canopy and noticed dark rainclouds gathering above them, rolling fast with the western wind.
Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by louder thunder seconds later.
Orion snorted, his ears lying flat as the storm rolled in.
“We should take cover under those trees,” Draven called back to her, pointing to a large oak tree a few paces away.
The tree was enormous, with roots breaching the soil like sea serpents, then burying themselves once again under the soil. The trunk was as wide as a horse, with curves winding through the bark, mimicking the tumultuous waves of the Aetherdeep Sea.
But the tree branches were what made Astraia gape in awe.
They spread out from the trunk in a thousand directions, aimed at the sky.
It gave the appearance of a priest extending its hands toward the heavens, palms open to catch the falling Stars.
The leaves were deep green and blanketed the branches, creating a massive shield over the forest floor.
Dismounting from Orion, she was apprehensive to step foot on what she was sure was holy ground beneath the oak tree.
It had to be as ancient as the Shattering, or maybe older.
How it had survived the fall and aftershock, she was not sure.
Perhaps Desire took favor on the tree as she did Volpes and protected it from annihilation.
Whatever the reason, Astraia was thankful for the protection during the looming storm.
Just as they hitched their horses to one of the lower hanging branches, the rain began to patter on the forest floor.
Within seconds, it had turned into a downpour, and Astraia shivered as she pulled her cloak tighter over her head.
A few drops managed to slip through the oak tree’s canopy, but astoundingly she remained mostly dry.
Draven was leaning against the tree, looking out on the curtain of water that fell around them. The sky darkened as the thunderhead came to rest directly above them, casting eerie shadows from the contorted oak branches.
“Are you hungry?” Draven’s low voice was barely audible over the pouring rain.
She nodded, her stomach rumbling in confirmation. They had not eaten in Asynjur, eager to depart before drawing too much attention to themselves. She realized she had not eaten anything since the meager breakfast of bread and meat from that morning.
Draven pushed off the tree and walked over to his saddlebag. Opening the flap, he dug around in the bag for some food. And that was when she saw it. A glimmer of iron beneath the clouded sky.
The manacles.
“Why do you still have those?” She barely choked out the words, drawing out each syllable in disbelief.
He froze, his back to her. His shoulders tensed, and he lifted his head before he turned to face her. Shame was plastered on his face, and regret filled his eyes. Slowly, he began to step toward her, but she backed away.
“Traia, it’s not what you think. Let me explain.” He held up his hands in defense, halting when she took yet another step backward away from him.
“You promised me. You said you would protect me from the world. Even from him,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed on him. She placed her hands on either side of her head, pressing forcefully, as if she could squeeze the betrayal out of her memory.
Lowering her hands to her side, she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. Her hands trembled, and she forced them into fists, her nails biting so hard into her skin that she felt blood trickle into her palms. Power surged to her core, and this time she did not push it aside.
She opened her eyes, white light blasting through the canopy. Power flared through her, pulsing across the forest floor, sweeping away leaves. Birds twittered and scattered from the surrounding trees as the light cut through the rain. She took a step toward the bounty hunter, eyes unblinking.
“Maybe who I need protection from is you!” she accused, unable to hold back her anger and frustration at lies that poured from his mouth like sweet wine.
“Was this your plan all along? To lure me into your trap? Make me believe you cared if I lived or died? Then when my walls were finally broken down, slap the manacles on me and drag me back to the king? Knowing that you would destroy me in a way death never could?”
She fought back tears, forcing her anguish into her bonds. Sacrifice bloomed with her pain, healing her palms, but she knew the deepest pain would leave scars.
“Traia, stop!” Draven roared, his eyes flooding with Rage, and golden light blared back at her, unyielding to her own flare.
His skin began to smoke, and red, molten veins pulsed to life along his forearms, traveling up the side of his neck.
Raindrops sizzled when they fell on his skin, evaporating in seconds.
“No! I want the truth!” she yelled above the rain, thunder booming around her, shaking the ground.
“The truth?” he shouted, glaring at her, and in two steps he closed the gap between them. Their faces only inches apart, illuminating the forest with their bonds. “The truth is dangerous.”
She did not blink as she unsheathed her dagger and whipped it toward his neck, pouring every ounce of strength and her bond into the strike.
He jerked his hand up, catching her wrist, but the point of the dagger had nicked his skin.
A drop of blood rolled down his taut neck, turning pink as it mixed with rain.
Astraia’s eyes flicked to the blood, then back to his stare. “Tell me the truth, Draven, or so help me, I will burn you and let the storm wash away your ashes.”
“Fine. You want the truth?” His glowing eyes flickered then dimmed to pools of amber as he pulled on his bond, dampening Rage. The fire dying in his eyes caught her off guard, but she held onto her bond and her blade.
“Yes, no more half-truths. No more lies,” she snapped.
“The truth is you have ruined me, and I can’t make it stop… I don’t want it to stop,” he breathed, his voice wavering.
Astraia froze, her bond quivering beneath her skin. She blinked, and the white glow in her eyes ebbed, as if a cold bucket of water had been poured on her. She relaxed her hand, still holding the dagger angled at his neck.
But Draven ignored it, continuing to speak as if he might never get the chance again.
“You decided from the day we met that you would not be caged. Not by me, not by the king, not by anyone. And it was from that moment I knew… I knew you would be the fire that consumed me. I tried to resist it, tried to tell myself you were a mark, a task, nothing more. But every time I stared into the oceans of your eyes, I knew. I knew you would be my undoing.”
Her pulse quickened, and her breath hitched. She was staring wide-eyed into his, unable to speak or move.
“The truth is that I want you. All of you—the blades and the softness, the fury and the fear. I want to show you exactly how exceptional you are every day for the rest of your life. Not because you need me, but because I need you.” He paused, tucking a small strand of her loose hair behind her ear, his other hand still holding her wrist, the blade flirting with his neck.
“For you, Traia, I would forsake the Stars. I would worship you until you no longer question your worth.”
The forest stilled. The only sound was rain continuing to fall around them, dripping through the canopy. Lightning flashed, answered by the boom of thunder as the bounty hunter and Starborne stared at each other.
She opened her hand, letting the dagger fall to the ground with a thud. Draven looked at her, eyebrows raised in confusion as he released her wrist. She lowered her hand, afraid to breathe.
Then he kissed her.
This was no soft, questionable kiss. This was a kiss of claiming. Heated, passionate, fervent as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to him.
Her mind screamed to run, to forsake the feelings that had been building inside her for days. But she ignored all logic. She flung her arms around his neck, sinking deeper into the kiss, letting herself get lost in his desperation.
Heat blazed in her core, a combination of her bonds and her own desire rippling through her. She could feel his body against hers, their chests rising and falling fast, breathing heavily as they warmed the air around them. His tongue grazed hers, and she felt like she might die of bliss.
The world fell away, and all her mistrust and anger disappeared.
She might have ruined him, but he consumed her.
Lightning cracked around them, making her hair stand on end, but she did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the thunder booming in her ears, not the rain soaking her hair, not the wraiths, not the Stars. Nothing.
All her defenses fell, the wall in her mind crumbled. That once faint whisper of hope was screaming into the ocean of her thoughts, rebuilding every failed truth.
Power and Sacrifice beckoned at her spine as his warm lips crushed hers, so she opened the door.
White and blue light glowed from her hands, weaving ribbons of light around them.
From behind her closed eyes, she could feel warm sun rays on her skin and knew Draven’s own bond flared with hers.
The intertwined lights painted a kaleidoscope of color in the dark stormy woods—two Starborne shattering darkness.
Draven had said that she would not be caged.
But little did he know she had given him the keys, capturing her forever.