Secrets and Stardust

Chapter 12

Iyana

After two days of fretting around the village—tending to lingering wounds or injuries, checking on newborn babes and their mothers, and asking multiple times if everyone was absolutely sure they wanted her to go—Iyana and Altair walked out of Imothia. Although she knew there were no horses to spare, given there were only two, and they were needed for farming, she still excessively complained about walking the entire distance to Athusia.

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, super-sprint us there?” she’d whined to Altair.

“Super-sprint?” he asked, his brow raising.

Waving her hands around, she said, “Yeah, like when you ran us from the crater to here.”

He chuckled. “I don’t remember that being a pleasant experience for you.”

“It wasn’t,” she said, kicking a pebble with her bare foot. “But I’d prefer it to any form of exercise.”

Altair nodded pointedly towards her dusty feet. “You know, walking may not be so unpleasant if you wore shoes.”

Iyana wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No, thanks.”

Chuckling again, he said, “I guess I could…” Altair reached out to draw her in closer to his chest, reminiscent of when he had carried her before. “But I won’t.”

Iyana deflated. Altair smiled with pity and gently ran a thumb along her cheek. Heat spread from the small touch. “Sorry, my star, but I do need to train you during the journey. If I transported us there too swiftly, we’d be forced to train in the city.”

“So?” she asked, pouting.

“So,” he replied, again brushing his thumb along her pouting lip. Iyana tamped down the desire to bite him. “That’s much more dangerous. Don’t forget Uther is aware of the Aztia. He may not know who you are, but someone would report us, and you’d be captured before you are ready.”

“Fine,” Iyana groaned. “We’ll do it your way.”

Only one short hour into their journey through the desert, Iyana realized she had over-packed. Despite the lower temperatures darkness brought, sweat dripped down her back. Her panting breaths were so loud in her ears she barely heard the buzzing of cicadas or distant yips of coyotes. Wanting to be prepared for any eventuality, she’d loaded any ingredients or pre-made medications she thought might be useful. Along with clothing, this made her pack extremely heavy. She made sure Altair also carried a bag of supplies, but he didn’t appear burdened in the slightest. Maybe she could convince him to carry hers. Or he could carry her and the bag, and then she wouldn’t have to walk anymore.

“I’m not carrying you. Keep up,” Altair said over his shoulder.

Jolting out of her daydream, she sped up slightly to walk by his side. Was it still considered daydreaming if it was nighttime? Probably, since if one is awake then they aren’t dreaming dreaming. There should be another term for night daydreaming…

“What are you thinking about now?” Altair asked.

“Nothing,” she blurted. “Also, how did you know I wanted you to carry me? I thought you said you weren’t in my head.”

He glanced at her with a crooked grin. “I promise I’m not in your head. You’ve been complaining under your breath and gradually slowing down.”

“Sure you don’t want to carry me? I’m not heavy,” she said hopefully.

This elicited a full laugh from Altair, one Iyana had not heard before. Smiling, she forgot for a moment what she had been complaining about. “I know you aren’t heavy, my star. You are exceptionally small.” He placed his hand on top of his head, lowering it considerably to the top of hers to demonstrate their height difference. Iyana grumbled, smacking his hand away from her, but his fingers lingered in her hair for a moment longer than necessary.

“How about a distraction?” Altair asked.

“What kind?”

Golden eyes sparking with hunger, he said roughly, “Not the kind I’d prefer.”

Iyana swallowed. Her face flushed first, then the warmth dropped straight to her core. She wasn’t inexperienced by any means, but no man had ever made her feel so awkward— like she was a teenager again—and no man had ever made her this aroused either.

With a knowing smile, Altair changed his tone back to normal. “We really should work on your magic. Starting with the basics. Hopefully, it’ll keep you distracted enough and you’ll stop whining.”

“I wasn’t whining that much,” Iyana scoffed.

“Yes, you were,” said Altair. “And those are not the sounds I want to hear coming from your mouth.”

He is going to kill me with all the innuendos, she thought. Iyana briefly considered fucking him. Just to get it out of my system, she told herself. But, realistically, that wasn’t the best idea. They had to travel together long distances. She was a human woman; he was an immortal star. The gods only knew what his plans were after defeating Uther. Would he go back into the sky? For a reason she did not care to examine at the moment, the thought made her unjustifiably sad. She didn’t realize she had stopped walking until Altair gripped her chin lightly, lifting her head.

“Where did you go just now?” he asked softly.

“Nowhere,” she said. Clearing her throat, she continued, “How about those magic lessons?”

Taking his fingers off her chin, he continued walking. She missed the touch immediately.

“Your magic is different from mine,” he said, “since humanity’s magic was a gift from the old gods, but the basics are the same. The other day you mentioned feeling warm?”

“Yeah. When it was first unlocked, it felt like a gentle warmth gliding through my veins, but now it seems to be a little kernel of fire in my chest, right here.” She touched over her heart, where her necklace resided. The necklace itself had been giving off a steady pulse of heat ever since Altair hung it around her neck. It was a pleasant sensation, and it made her feel as though Imo was still with her somehow.

“Everybody has their own techniques of pulling forth their magic,” said Altair. “But I try to find the core of my magic and coax it forward gently. I want you to touch the core of your magic.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to do this while walking,” Iyana said dryly. “I think I need to close my eyes to concentrate.”

“That’s normal when you’re first learning.” With a charming smirk, he threaded his fingers through hers, her small hand completely enveloped. Her heart rate increased. “Go ahead and close your eyes. I’ll make sure your naked toes stay safe.”

Scoffing, Iyana attempted to feel her way towards the tiny kernel of fire within her chest. But all she could focus on was the way her hand was fully enclosed within Altair’s. His skin was so warm and smooth, his grip sure. It felt…right. Then her brain malfunctioned as his thumb rubbed small circles into her skin.

“Stop,” she said without opening her eyes. It came out in more of a whisper than she intended.

“Stop what?” Altair asked, his tone laced with humor.

“You know what,” she scoffed. “You’re making it difficult to concentrate, and I thought you wanted me to learn.”

“You’re right, my star.” Giving her hand a light squeeze, he stopped the extra motions. While it was slightly less distracting, Iyana had to make a conscious effort to block out everything happening beyond her.

Inhaling deeply, she focused inwardly. It didn’t take long to locate what Altair described as the core of her magic. To Iyana, it appeared as a small flame—the kind produced when the flint had just been struck upon the tinder. She had a bone-deep desire to nurture that fire, to see it grow. Reaching slowly towards the magic, she attempted to touch it, only for it to dance out of her grasp. It evaded her completely, not even flowing between her fingers as if she had scooped a handful of water. She focused harder, furrowing her brow, but the magic flitted out of her reach even further. Frustrated, she opened her eyes with a groan.

Altair gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then let go. She sighed dramatically. “If I can’t even touch my magic, how am I going to learn?”

“Don’t fret, it takes time,” he replied. “Which is exactly why we’re walking.” Another groan escaped her. “We’re almost at the next village, my star.”

Iyana started. It suddenly occurred to her that the sun was rising, coloring the world in a soft pink. How long was I practicing? she thought.

“Time passes differently when you’re deep in your magic,” said Altair.

Her head whipped towards him. “Get out of my head!”

With a soft chuckle he replied, “I’ve told you, I’m not in your head. Your face scrunched up in an adorable way when you noticed the sunrise, and I made a guess at what you were thinking.”

Iyana squinted at him, unconvinced. In the burgeoning dawn, she gazed upon him openly. His face was more beautiful in profile, if it was possible. He still had a faint glow about him during the day, but now, with the sunrise behind him, he was absolutely radiant. He looked like a god. While she was drinking her fill, she tripped on a rock, stumbling forward. Altair caught her by the elbow to keep her upright.

“If you’re quite done gawking,” he said, amused, “I believe that is the village on the horizon, is it not?”

Affronted, Iyana jerked her arm out of his hold. There was no possible way she was…gawking. But he was right. It was the village on the horizon—the snowcapped Forgotten Mountains serving as a backdrop. Legend said the old gods resided beneath the mountains, in a deep slumber. The elders passed down stories on how the mountain range between Athusa and Istora was named. While the Aula Pass offered relatively safe passage—although wolves, deadly drop-offs, and rockslides were ever-present dangers—those who strayed from the Pass were never seen again. Children were told during bedtime stories that should they need to cross the Forgotten Mountains they were to stay on the Pass. The old gods were hungry, or lonely, or bored (the story changed depending on who was doing the telling) and would snatch any wanderers, dragging them beneath. Not only were these poor souls never seen again, but they were forgotten by their loved ones. Names, faces, memories were all erased. All that remained was an empty feeling, like there was something they were supposed to remember but couldn’t, a name on the tip of their tongue. If the prospect of being forgotten did not scare the children enough, it was said that the souls the gods stole were unable to go to the Everlands or the Nine Hells, instead staying with them for an eternity. Iyana shuddered. She’d never had a reason to cross the mountains before. Hells, she’d never had a reason to leave Imothia before.

She and Altair continued their walk in silence. He didn’t suggest any further practice, and she clenched her jaw to keep from complaining excessively. The asshole walking next to her did not need more fodder to tease her with.

They reached the edge of the village as the sun reached its zenith, and the heat of the day was becoming oppressive, even for Iyana. Altair wasn’t sweating, and she hated him a bit for it. She, however, was panting, with her hair plastered to her face. In other words, she felt a mess.

A representative greeted them and guided them towards a guest dwelling. Traveling through the desert at night was the smartest decision, but when it came to the Aula Pass, one wanted to walk it during the day, despite the heat at the base. They would stay here through the night and leave at dawn, attempting to climb high enough before the sun rose fully to avoid roasting their skin. Iyana didn’t even notice there was only one cot where they were staying. She had only enough energy to drop her pack on the floor and flop onto her temporary bed. Sleep found her immediately.

She only woke when Altair nudged her gently. Rubbing her gritty eyes in an attempt to wake up, Iyana sat up to stretch.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily.

“It’s almost dawn,” Altair said. “I thought you may want to wash now while you can. Not sure when we’ll have use of another bathing chamber.” She wrinkled her nose in anticipation of all the aspects of this journey she hadn’t envisioned. Shitting in a bush with a man nearby was definitely not something Iyana was looking forward to, so she appreciated the privacy while it was available.

Thanking their hosts and slinging the still-heavy packs over their shoulders, they walked towards the Forgotten Mountains side by side.

The beginning of their journey was uneventful. The base of the Aula Pass was still in the desert and gradually warmed as the sun rose. But as the sun climbed higher, so did the duo. Tall evergreen trees gradually replaced cacti, scenting the air with pine instead of desert sage. Cooler temperatures came with the higher altitudes. To Iyana, it was reminiscent of a lovely winter’s night at home, one that was not too cold, but enough to justify lighting a fire. She’d curl up in front of her hearth like a house cat and sleep there instead of in bed, warm and content.

Despite the lack of desert heat, she felt as though she was sweating twice as much. The Pass was much steeper and wilder than she’d expected. She assumed a pass would be a well-maintained trail meandering through the mountains, but the pleasantly easy trail at the base swiftly steepened. Now she had to hike and rock climb to clear the giant boulders in their path—two things she had never done before in her life. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and her pack weighed her down. Was it possible it had gotten heavier? Many times she stopped to rest her hands on her knees, heaving deep breaths, fighting the urge to give up and turn back. Altair continued walking forward without offering assistance, or even acknowledging her distress. Bastard. He also dispelled another assumption of hers, that it would take less than a day to travel through the pass. Apparently, it would take closer to three. Especially at the rate you’re walking, he’d said. Iyana had flipped him off behind his back.

As the sun started its descent and the wind began to rise, Altair announced the need to find shelter for the night. Iyana blurted out, “Thank the fucking gods.” Which earned her a wry look from the never-tiring star.

“You realize,” said Altair, not even breathing hard, “you could use your magic to boost your strength. Then this wouldn’t be so arduous for you.”

“How am I supposed to do that when you’ve barely talked to me this entire climb? I thought you were supposed to be my all-knowing guru, or some shit.”

He smiled widely, teeth fully on display. “I love it when you swear.”

“Fuck you, you fucking glowing bastard.”

“Exactly like that,” his voice deepened. “It’s so fucking cute.”

Flipping him off again earned her a loud, true laugh from Altair. And suddenly she forgave him for dragging her along on this journey. “Come,” he said. “There’s a cave over this way, and we can stay for the night.” Lightly resting his hand on the small of her back, he steered her towards a cave entrance she hadn’t seen.

Once inside, they found shelter from the wind, but the cave itself was dark, cold, and dank. Iyana shivered. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wished she owned heavier clothing. Imothia was always warm. The winters were not harsh, as they sometimes were in other desert climates. She preferred the weather she grew up in—extremely hot summer days, pleasantly cool winter nights. All her clothing consisted of linen. Hells, she didn’t even own a cloak. As she surveyed what she could see of the cave, which wasn’t much, she saw a spark behind her and a sudden flare of heat. Turning, she noticed Altair had started a fire. She squealed as she ran over to warm her hands and toes.

“You’re going to need shoes to travel any further,” Altair said.

Iyana shook her head emphatically. “Nope,” she said. “Not gonna do it. I’ve gone my whole life without shoes and I’m not going to start now.”

“My star…” he said disapprovingly. “You’re going to get frostbite. What would you do if your pretty little toes fell off?”

She was too proud to admit she hadn’t thought of the repercussions of walking through a mountain pass barefoot, so she shrugged, continuing to warm herself at the fire. The fire itself was a wonder, as it burned without wood or tinder, yet stayed contained in a small area. Flames danced around, changing from orange to yellow to white, just as a proper fire would. There was a powerful urge to touch it, to see if it burned flesh the same as well, but Iyana resisted.

Altair sat next to her, knees drawn up to his chest. “You could keep yourself warm with your magic.”

“How?” she asked.

“Try to touch your magic again. Just touch it, learn it, earn its trust. Once you’ve accomplished that, we’ll move forward with more specific magics.”

Iyana inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to focus. Within seconds, she located the small flame within her, already feeling warmer. Here, magic, magic, magic, she coaxed. She reached tentatively towards it, but it danced out of her reach, same as the last time. Pulling back, she studied the magic, called to it, tried to understand it. The way Altair explained magic made it seem like it was sentient. As she attempted to meld with the magic, she felt something other. Something that definitely was not part of her originally. The flames coalesced into the image of a woman. She seemed familiar somehow, but the more she focused, the more the woman of fire evaded her. Iyana forced herself to relax, imagining shaking out her shoulders to ease the tension. She put out a small tendril of herself, directing it towards the magic, putting forth all of her curiosity, want, love, and happiness. The fire reached out a hand and ever so gently brushed against Iyana’s essence, like a stray cat meeting a friendly human for the first time. It felt… lonely, sad, scared—but also curious about its new host. Their connection was brief; the flame retreated almost immediately, but she knew the next time she attempted contact it would be much easier. The magic now understood her: her emotions, her ambitions. And it had deemed her worthy.

Iyana smiled widely at Altair. “I did it! I touched it!”

“I’m proud of you, my star,” he said warmly. His eyes sparked with mischief. “Did you really call your magic to you like it was a cat?”

“Seriously, get out of my head!”

“You said that part out loud, love. No mind reading needed,” he said, his tone laced with humor. Regaining his more prominent stoicism, he continued, “Touching the magic, connecting with it, is only the beginning. If your magic is shy, it’s going to take more time getting to know it before it heeds your commands.”

“Why is it so shy?” Iyana asked. “It seemed so familiar…”

Altair frowned. “That, I cannot answer for you. As I said, everyone’s magic is different.” He shifted closer to her so their shoulders were touching. “You’re going to need shoes.”

“Fine,” Iyana relented. Altair snapped his fingers, and fur-lined boots appeared on her feet. She almost leapt out of her skin—the change was so abrupt and unexpected. She had expected they’d find materials to make her shoes, but in hindsight, this was so much easier. “Thank you,” she murmured. Although her toes were restricted in a way that verged on uncomfortable, the warmth the boots provided almost made up for it.

“We should get some sleep,” said Altair. “It will be another long day tomorrow, and you need your energy for the next leg of the Pass.” Iyana groaned inwardly. “And I’ll need all of my patience to deal with your complaining,” he added, the mischief back in his golden eyes. She shoved his shoulder, but the bastard didn’t move an inch, so she stuck her tongue out at him instead.

The mischief shifted to a predatory hunger as his gaze locked onto her tongue. She retreated it back into her mouth slowly, but her lips stayed slightly parted, and Altair’s eyes hadn’t moved. “Careful, my star,” he growled, finally glancing away from her mouth. “Or I’ll find a better use for your tongue.” Simultaneously, her mouth went dry, and deep heat sparked in her lower abdomen. The heat moved even lower as his thumb traced her lip excruciatingly slowly.

“Well,” she breathed. “Good night.” And before she could consider any other options, she swiveled away from temptation, lying close to the fire and curling in upon herself—only for Altair’s warm body to immediately press into her back, an arm draping over her waist.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked. Which was…embarrassing.

“Keeping you warm.” Iyana felt the rumble of his voice reverberate through her entire body. He hauled her even closer to his chest. “You’re shivering.”

She turned her head back towards him and immediately decided it was a poor choice, as his face was now only inches away from hers. Her traitorous eyes dropped to his lips before she regained control and faced forward again. “Couldn’t you magic warmer clothes for me?” she asked, scooting forward to put some space between them.

Altair didn’t answer her question at first, instead pulling her into his warmth. And he was really, really warm. “Yes,” he said. “But not right now. The shoes actually took a fair amount of magic, and I’m weakened compared to what I was before. After I sleep, I’ll conjure some for you.”

Iyana found herself settling into him. The heat from the fire in front of her and the star behind her, plus his intoxicating scent of earthy rain, was lulling her to sleep. His fingers drew lazy circles on her hip. It was the most relaxed she’d felt in—well, years, really. She tumbled into a deep sleep.

Iyana woke abruptly. It took her several moments to recognize where she was. Right, the cave. But she had fallen asleep warm by a fire with Altair behind her. Now it was dark, the fire having gone out, and Altair’s arms no longer enveloped her. Shivering, she scanned the darkness for him, finally spotting his silhouette at the mouth of the cave. Iyana rose from the cold, hard ground, wrapping her arms around herself tightly in an attempt to bring heat back to her body.

“What are you—” she began, but stopped when she saw Altair was shaking. “Are you okay?” she asked instead, dropping down next to him. Burying his face in his hands, he sobbed quietly and her heart cracked open. Her arms instantly engulfed him, squeezing tightly, letting him process his emotions. Altair leaned into her, crying silently.

When he finally emerged from behind his hands, Iyana rubbed his back in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She had never really had this type of intimacy with a man. Her experiences with men were all of the sexual variety; she didn’t even stay to cuddle afterward. Sure, she had helped grieving families during her time with Imo, but this felt different. More intimate.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Hey,” she soothed. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m sure even stars have their moments.” She grinned at him. Altair returned it with a watery smile, tears still lining his eyelashes. It made him appear more vulnerable. More human.

He took a deep breath. “I think I mentioned I’m uncomfortable in tight spaces.” Iyana nodded, continuing to rub his back. “I had a…a nightmare, and waking up inside the cave it just—” Another shuddering inhale. “It brought me back to a bad place.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, eyes closed. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she whispered.

“For being here. For not judging me.” When he looked at Iyana again, it was in trepidation, as if he was scared she would mock him, or leave him. In truth, it made her want him more. That was a problem. A relationship would never work between them; they were too different. And fucking him out of her system? Iyana knew if she were to try, it would only deepen the burgeoning feelings she already had. Admitting to herself that she cared for him was difficult. But she felt lighter now.

“I would never judge you,” she said, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. His eyes dipped to her lips, but that was playing with fire, so before he could act on any impulses, she rested her head on his shoulder and intertwined their fingers. They sat together in a comfortable silence until the sun began to rise.

Altair indicated that it was time to start their day by fashioning a warm cloak for her. It was heavy, fur-lined, and the warmest piece of clothing Iyana had ever owned. She wanted to bury herself in it and go back to sleep. Instead, they ate their meager breakfast of jerky and dates, then set back out onto the Pass. This day was better than the one before. Not because the going was any easier, but because Iyana was comfortable. Her toes were warm, and the boots surprisingly had better grip on this rocky terrain than her bare feet. She begrudgingly admitted shoes did have their purpose, but she would never voice that out loud. She was willing to die on this particular hill.

Because she felt better during the trek, she became more chatty. Altair, for the most part, listened and would reply with short one or two-word answers. No matter how she asked, he refused to reveal anything about himself before he was in the sky. Other than what she already knew, of course, which was only that his magic was stronger before. Which was mind-boggling for Iyana, as what Altair was capable of now was still astonishing, and she was awe-struck every time she witnessed something new.

She succeeded in having him explain why there was so little magic now compared to thousands of years ago when stars still walked the earth. The way he told it, thousands upon thousands of years ago, stars and gods occupied the world as two separate species. While the stars were content to stick to the status quo, the gods and goddesses possessed more powerful magic and began creating life. There were a few iterations which did not last for various reasons—too violent, too long-lived, too powerful. The gods wanted a life form beneath them that was not a threat to their existence. So if any creations showed the potential to overthrow the gods, they eliminated them promptly. The stars watched from a distance, not interfering. They had powerful magic as well, and they outnumbered the gods. Should they decide to unite together, it would be possible to stage a coup and take over the world. Rule on top instead of the gods. But instead, they stayed in their individual family groups, their constellations, and were content to live peacefully alongside the gods.

Eventually, humans were created and deemed safe. Relatively short-lived, violent, but only towards each other, and no magic. They were perfect. For quite a while the gods used the humans as slaves and playthings, but as is the same with all immortal beings, they began to get bored. They decided to go into a hibernation of sorts and to allow their favorite creation some defense against the more powerful stars, they gifted a touch of magic to certain groups. Imera, Goddess of Healing, gave to the healers. Gana, Goddess of Nature, gave to the shifters. Yrza, Goddess of the Moon, blessed the royalty of Nyr. And Otho, God of Victory, and Thelena, Goddess of Triumph, blessed the royalty of Athusa and Istora, respectively. The other gods and goddesses chose to slumber without parting with any of their magic.

Not every human received a gift, so, over time, magic-users mixed with non-magical humans, and the strength of the magic waned. The stars saw an opportunity and attempted to become something akin to the gods. However, something happened (that was where Altair started to evade questions) and the stars ended up in the sky. Around the same time, the original Aztia and Kanaliza were given magic by Zaya, Goddess of Life, who awoke for the sole purpose of protecting their creation from what the stars could potentially become. Because their gift came from one of the original gods, descended directly from Khollo, it acted differently than other magics. It was not passed down through bloodlines, but randomly every generation, and therefore not watered down. As time continued on with the stars watching from above, the humans intermingled even further and the magic became weaker. Some powerful shifters still existed thanks to careful breeding, although most of them remained hidden within the confines of Nyr, and occasionally someone would be born with a stronger magic than most. Altair believed Imo was one of the latter.

They had lapsed into a comfortable silence after lunch. Altair informed Iyana they were approximately halfway through the Pass. A thin layer of snow now laid perpetually on the ground, the evergreen trees beginning to thin with the higher altitude. They would be starting their descent into Athusa the next day. Lost in her own thoughts, Iyana kept putting one foot in front of the other, over and over and over. Thinking about the history of human creation—a version she’d never heard before—her own magic, how the village was faring…anything to keep her mind off Altair and how he had felt lying behind her the night before. Or how her lips had tingled when she’d kissed his cheek. Or how the hunger and desire in his eyes had made her want…

Iyana came to a sudden stop by running straight into Altair’s back and bouncing off. “What—” she started.

“Shhh.” They were in a small clearing, pine and spruce trees surrounding them. She attempted to see what in the nine hells was happening, but Altair stepped in front of her. He was standing rigidly with an inhuman stillness. A crunching in the snow ahead of them alerted her to another’s presence, and then Iyana heard the growling. Wolves. Shit. She tried again to peer around Altair, only for him to continue to hide her. “Iyana, please,” he murmured. It was the sound of her actual name, instead of my star, that convinced her to listen.

From behind her came a low rumble. Whipping around, she pressed her back into Altair’s. Before her stood the largest wolf she’d ever seen. Which, now that it was right in front of her, she realized she’d never actually seen a wolf before. The coyotes running through the desert were much smaller, and decidedly less fierce. It stood at five feet tall, so Iyana was able to look it directly in the face. She thought that if she tried to hug around its neck for some insane reason, her hands would not touch each other. Shaggy fur as white as the snow lent it superb camouflage. Piercing, intelligent eyes that appeared much too human for Iyana’s liking snared her. The wolf bared its sharp canines, muzzle pulled back in a snarl, saliva dripping onto the ground. Growls continued to come from the animal, and her heart raced. If she thought Altair had appeared predatory before, this wolf was like staring death in the face.

“Phaedros take me, Iyana, if you—”

“Wolf,” she interrupted.

“What?” he asked, becoming even more rigid.

“Wolf.”

“Fuck.” Never taking her vision off the wolf, his fingers grabbed her hand, squeezing hard. “Listen closely,” he muttered. “There are two on my side. How many on yours?”

She scanned the trees to double check more weren’t hiding in the forest. “One,” she said.

“Okay.” Altair took a deep breath. Her fingers warmed where their hands joined; it felt like his magic. “When I tell you, I want you to run. As fast as you can.”

“What?” Iyana exclaimed louder than she meant to. The wolf in front of her crouched lower, and the growling intensified. Quieter, she said, “Where would I even run to?”

“There’s another cave system not much farther up the mountain. Find a place to hide. Preferably one small enough the wolf can’t fit inside.”

She shook her head. “Altair…”

“Iyana, now is not the time to argue with me. I can hold them off, but you need to find somewhere safe.”

“I don’t—”

But at that moment he spun around, throwing Iyana off to the side. She lost her footing, falling on her hip. Sharp pain lanced down her leg. “Run!” he yelled, firing a blast of magic at the wolf that had been stalking her. There was a yelp of pain, but then the other two wolves were upon Altair. He was fighting them with what appeared to be elemental magic—fire and air were the most prominent, but occasionally snow or pieces of earth were used to his advantage. White fur singed black, an acrid smell reaching Iyana’s nose. All this she gathered within a few seconds while she clambered to her feet, then paused. Altair needed help, but realistically, was there anything she could do?

“Iyana, go!” he yelled again, continuing to fend off two wolves. The first one had regained its senses and focused again on Iyana. Yellow eyes stared her down as the wolf licked its chops, preparing for a meal.

Hating herself for leaving Altair, Iyana ran into the trees, fully aware she was prey attempting to outrun a predator. The pounding of paws on the ground caught up to her too quickly, and warm breath blew on the nape of her neck. She feinted left, but turned right instead, darting around a tree. Chancing a quick glance, she saw the wolf still directly behind her, tongue lolling out of its mouth. The stench of carrion wafted towards her. Unless she found a hiding place soon, that would be all she consisted of—carrion. Eaten by this monstrous animal, then picked apart by the scavengers. Iyana refused to die in this forest, only a few days’ trek from home. Her adventure had barely begun.

Using her small stature to her advantage, she zigzagged through the trees in as random a pattern as was possible while inwardly panicking. Iyana knew she’d never best a wolf with speed alone, especially with her lifelong aversion to exercise. Pure adrenaline was the only thing propelling her forward. Climbing a tree would have been ideal, but all the branches were too high for her reach, and she couldn’t afford the time it would take to stop and jump. Reaching the branch was not a guarantee, either. She only needed to evade it until she found the caves. A sudden snarl and snap of teeth, and Iyana found her brand new cloak ripped apart. Stumbling forward, she ran faster, arms flailing, to avoid falling. Falling would equal death.

Rocks, bushes, and trees were scattered everywhere, but there was no decent hovel to dive into. Grabbing the trunk of a tree—the bark biting into her palms—she slingshot her way around, making a hard right. The wolf slid in an attempt to follow her tight turn. Her cloak hung in tatters from its mouth.

A sob lodged in Iyana’s throat. The caves. Where were the caves? Suddenly, she spotted a small hole off to the side. Snow and dead branches surrounded it, but she believed she would fit. It was a gamble. Her legs were cramping, and she had mere moments until her body gave out on her. Darting again to her right, the wolf’s teeth snapped together where her neck had been just moments before—the noise of her narrowly-escaped death echoed in her mind. The cave was so close. Digging deep, she put on a burst of speed. The wolf was almost upon her; she wasn’t going to make it. One leap and she would be beneath teeth and claws.

Iyana dove headfirst into the hole, sliding forward on the snow. There was a sudden flare of pain and heat in her ankle, but she was in the cave. Scrambling around, she saw the wolf poke its massive head into the entrance. Rancid breath blew in her face, clogging her nose and causing her to gag. She shuffled backwards on all fours, but the wolf’s shoulders were too wide for the cave. It retreated, sticking a paw through instead, swiping at the air. Claws nearly sheared through her boots. Iyana moved back further, her back hitting a wall, but it was far enough. She was safe.

The wolf loped away from her cave and bayed, disappointed in the lost meal. Two echoing howls answered in the distance. The sob finally ripped free, and she covered her mouth, not wanting to call the wolf’s attention back to her. Iyana brought her knees to her chest and curled in upon herself, trying to ease her shivering. Was Altair alive? Could a wolf even kill an immortal? Her mind began churning through the worst-case scenarios, which was when she realized she’d lost her pack with all the medical supplies. Cursing, she decided to wait in safety, but not too long. If Altair was injured, she’d need to find her pack in order to heal him.

Just as she decided it was time to worry, a shadow crossed over the entrance, blocking out the sun. She sucked in a breath and held it, not daring to breathe.

“My star?”

Iyana’s held breath whooshed out of her in relief.

“Altair,” she whispered. She rushed to crawl out of the cave. He reached to help her to her feet, but froze.

“You’re hurt,” he said.

“What? No, I’m fine.” But when she tried to stand, another burst of pain coursed through her left ankle, and it collapsed from under her. Altair caught her around the waist, and she noticed his shirt was in tatters, his chest covered in scratches. She absentmindedly touched one, and he hissed. Pulling her hand away quickly, she apologized. Finally acknowledging her ankle, there was a pool of blood staining the snow red. The pain set in, then, becoming a deep throbbing, and she was grateful for Altair continuing to hold her up.

He scooped her up by the knees and cradled her close to his chest.

“Altair, please, I can walk. You’re injured. You shouldn’t be carrying me.”

Looking down at her like she was crazy, he replied, “They’re only minor scratches. I heal fast.” He smiled. “No need to worry about me, my star.”

With one arm around his neck, Iyana’s other hand began exploring the wounds on his chest. There was a deep one on his left side over his heart, but true to his word, it was already healing, the skin knitting together. Flattening her palm on the area, his heart beat steadily beneath her fingertips, which brought her some relief.

“This was not a minor scratch,” she chided.

Altair shrugged as best he could while carrying her. “It’s healing though, is it not?” Walking for another few minutes through the trees, he finally found what he was looking for. They ducked into another cave, and Iyana’s breath caught in her throat.

She first noted the humidity contained within the cave, instantly warming her, and found the source was a hot spring. But what really took her breath away was the ceiling dotted with little glowing blue areas, lighting up the entire space. It all made for an exceptionally comforting environment, reminding her of a starry sky. Altair set her down gently on a bed of moss. She hadn’t realized how sore her ass was from only sitting on rocks the past two days.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Altair, smiling as he glanced upward. “The ceiling contains a bioluminescent fungus. It makes it feel not so enclosed here.” He focused again on her injured ankle. Kneeling before her, he gently lifted her foot and slid off her boot. His hand traveled lightly up her foot to the wound on the side. She gasped.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, frowning.

“No,” she said breathily, telling the truth.

“The good news is it isn’t as deep as I first feared.”

Iyana leaned forward to inspect it herself and agreed with his diagnosis. “I can pack it with some moss and wrap it until I can get my kit. I’ll need to go back for that.”

“I’ll go,” he said, standing. He nodded toward the hot spring. “Why don’t you address your wound, then take a soak?”

Iyana tipped her head back, moaning in anticipation of a warm bath.

Altair stared at her hungrily, running his gaze down her body. She shivered, despite the warm air. “My star…I will hear you make that sound again. That’s a promise,” he said, and strode out of the cave.

Forcing the interaction out of her mind, Iyana inspected her ankle more closely. Altair was right, it wasn’t deep. It should heal nicely once she got a poultice on it. She stared at the warm water longingly, then back toward the entrance, deciding she could definitely get in a bath before Altair returned. He didn’t even know where her pack had fallen. Stripping off her clothes in record time despite her injury, she slid into the blessedly hot water. Her ankle stung in the heat, but the rest of her body felt so relaxed she didn’t care. Reveling in the moment, Iyana found a rock shelf to sit on, and, laying her head back, she closed her eyes.

An unknown amount of time later, she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of a thunk on the ground. Sitting up in a panic, water sloshing around her naked body, she saw the sound was her pack, and Altair stood in the middle of the cave, staring. Ogling, really. It was then she realized when she sat up, her breasts had been exposed. That was what Altair was looking at now, pupils wide, and her nipples hardened into peaks. With a smirk, he raised his eyes to hers and shucked off his tunic.

A mousy squeak escaped her as she submerged her body fully, eyes snapping shut. Altair chuckled, followed by the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. The water rippled around her as he waded in, and Iyana hazarded a peek. Really, she couldn’t help it. Gods, he was glorious. Fully and unabashedly taking him in, he stood an arm’s length away from her, allowing her to drink her fill. His chest had already healed, and his body was all muscle and strength. Sweat beaded on his upper body, running in rivulets down his abdomen. Iyana followed one droplet lower, lower, and she found herself disappointed the water obstructed his lower half.

Altair stalked toward her, creating small waves that broke against her body. Paralyzed, she couldn’t have moved even if she wanted to, and gods knew she didn’t want to. All of her previous reasoning left her in a rush, need racing through her instead. And unless she was reading the signs wrong, he desired her as well. When he finally reached her, he crowded in close enough that the evidence of his desire pushed against her side. Eyes locked with hers, he stroked his hand through her hair around to the back of her head. Leaning forward, his lips brushed against her ear, causing her to gasp. Wetness pooled at her core, and it wasn’t from the hot spring. Iyana felt his lips against her skin curl into a smug smirk.

“My star,” he whispered adoringly. “I want you…” Altair nipped at her ear. She should push him away, tell him to stop. “…to touch…” But his body was firm beneath her fingers, and his breath fluttered over her skin. Iyana tilted her head back to give him better access to her neck. Someone here needed to be the sensible one, and it clearly wouldn’t be her. “…your magic.”

That—that was not what she was expecting. Sour disappointment poured over her, but he continued to nuzzle her ear and neck with his nose—lips placing feather-light kisses along her skin. So she did as he asked, closing her eyes to block out the infuriating star, instantly finding her little flame of magic. This time, when she reached a finger for it, it reached back without hesitation. The fire melded with her soul, racing through her veins, looking for an outlet. Iyana didn’t know how to direct it yet, and the rush this victory caused made her lose her concentration and connection.

“I did it,” she whispered. Altair still pressed firmly against her, his mouth exploring her damp skin.

As she raised her hands to explore him further, Altair retreated from her body. “Good girl,” he growled. And when Iyana thought she couldn’t be surprised anymore, Altair turned away from her and climbed out of the hot spring. The star, and his glorious ass, simply walked away from her and dressed for bed.

Gods, this journey was going to be torture.