41. Astra
Astra
Caspian found me before Marrow did.
He came through the western junction with two stewards behind him. Fear pressed cold through our bond, contained so tightly that my wrist ached.
“Walkin,” he said.
The stewards were close enough to hear. I waited.
Caspian stopped in front of me and took my hand. His thumb covered the silver line at my wrist, a familiar touch made deliberate for whoever was watching.
“My room,” he said. “The administrator authorized a family consultation before the new order takes effect.”
“We’re family now?”
“My father was persuasive.”
That explained the older grief I had felt move through him earlier, tangled with anger and something warmer he had not yet been ready to name.
The stewards followed us to his door. One remained outside while the other inspected the room, looked beneath the bed, and checked the narrow false window before leaving.
“One hour,” he said.
The door closed.
Caspian waited until the steward’s shadow settled across the gap beneath it.
“The Council is sending an enforcer to take command of our review,” he said quietly. “Walkin can override the administrator, authorize containment, and petition for emergency severance.”
My wrist burned beneath his hand.
“When?”
“Less than a week. The east rooms are already being prepared.”
“Marrow knew.”
“He filed the report that gave them cause.” Caspian’s mouth hardened. “The rescue. Kieran’s restored Mark. Hale’s bond. Walkin is coming because the third line closed.”
I looked down at my wrist.
Three completed lines crossed the inside of it: silver, green-gold, and rain-dark. The new reach ended in my hands. I still did not know how to use it.
“They told your father all of that?”
“The administrator told both of us. She said Walkin will treat the four of us as one mechanism.”
“Meaning they’ll hurt you to control me.”
“Yes.”
He did not soften it. I loved him for that and hated the truth anyway.
I crossed to the false window. Silver light climbed the wall without ever becoming daylight. Through the stone came the low rush of water and, beneath it, the faint scrape of a steward shifting outside the door.
“My mother must have known,” I said. “Not Walkin. This part. Why the Council was afraid of three bonds.”
“She may have.”
“And she still never told me I had a Mark.”
Caspian came to stand behind me, close but not touching.
“She kept you outside their reach for nineteen years.”
“She also left me helpless when Linden arrived.”
“She may have believed hiding it was the only way to keep you safe. That doesn’t mean she was right.”
I turned.
His father’s visit still showed in him. Not in his posture; that had returned to its usual control. The bond carried what his face did not: anger worn thin by relief, affection complicated by an older hurt.
“What happened with Magnus?”
“He brought the Council’s answers to my questions. He sent copies to other seats before he came here.”
“That was smart.”
“It was.”
“You sound annoyed about it.”
“I am.” He looked down at our hands. “It would be easier if every good thing he did arrived too late to matter.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“No.”
He answered too quickly, then looked away.
“I embraced him,” Caspian said.
I waited.
“I wanted to.”
“That isn’t forgiveness.”
“I know.” His fingers closed around mine. “I’m trying to.”
Through the bond, I felt how much the admission embarrassed him and how little he wanted to take it back. I raised our joined hands and kissed his knuckles.
“What do you need from me?”
“A promise I don’t have the right to ask for.”
“Ask anyway.”
He drew a breath.
“If Walkin uses me against you, don’t give them whatever they want just to make it stop.”
I released his hand.
“No.”
His shoulders drew back a fraction.
“Astra.”
“You don’t get to decide what I’m willing to risk for you.”
“I’m asking you not to let them turn my pain into a weapon.”
“And I’m telling you I won’t promise to watch them hurt you while I do nothing. You would never make that promise about me.”
The muscle in his cheek jumped.
“No,” he said.
“Then you know why I can’t give you that.”
He looked toward the door. The steward’s shadow remained beneath it.
“What can we promise?” he asked.
I went back to him.
“We don’t decide for each other,” I said. “If Walkin puts one of us in front of the other, we tell the truth. No pretending we can bear something we can’t.”
“And if that changes nothing?”
“Then it changes nothing. I still won’t lie to you.”
He lowered his forehead to mine.
“I can do that,” he said.
For a while, we stood without speaking. The bond remained open between us, carrying fear neither of us had solved. It also carried the warmth of his hands at my waist and the relief I felt each time his breath touched my mouth.
“How much of the hour is left?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The steward didn’t say when he would return.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste it.”
I kissed him.
His restraint broke slowly. One hand tightened at the small of my back while the other rose into my hair. He kissed me with the fear still present between us, not hidden or transformed into anything prettier.
I opened his coat and pushed it from his shoulders.
“Sit,” I said.
Caspian sat on the edge of the bed.
I stood between his knees and unfastened his shirt. The last time I had undressed him in this room, we had just crossed the bridge. Dirt had marked my dress, Kieran had barely been able to stand, and both of us had needed proof that the Tower had not already taken our bodies from us.
Tonight, I wanted something else.
I wanted his fear honest beneath my hands. I wanted the man who had just refused to choose for me to let me choose every touch.
I pulled the shirt free and laid my palm over his heart.
His pulse struck fast beneath my hand.
“Still optimistic?”
“Ask me when you’re naked.”
I pushed him back onto his elbows.
“Hands on the bed.”
His eyes darkened, but his palms stayed flat against the blanket.
I loosened his trousers and drew his cock out. He was already hard, the skin hot against my fingers. I stroked him once from base to tip and watched his stomach tighten.
“Astra.”
“You can touch me when I say.”
The line at my wrist warmed with his answer before he gave it aloud.
“All right.”
I knelt between his knees.
His breath stopped when I took him into my mouth.
I held his gaze and worked him deeper, one hand closing around the length I could not take. He tasted clean and faintly salted. The muscles in his thighs tightened beside my shoulders, but his hands remained where I had placed them.
I drew back slowly, tongue following the underside of his cock, then took him again.
Pleasure moved through the bond in a cold-bright rush that warmed as it reached me. I felt how badly he wanted to put his hands in my hair, how much effort it cost him to wait, and the trust beneath both.
I let him reach the edge before I lifted my mouth from him.
His head dropped back. “You stopped.”
“Not for long.”
I stood and stripped off my dress.
By the time I pushed the shift over my head, he was watching me with none of the composure he had carried into the room.
“Now,” I said.
His hands left the bed.
He reached for me. I caught one wrist and turned, guiding his hand to my waist as I faced the false window.
The stone ledge met me just below the hips. I braced my palms against it. Silver light moved over my bare arms and breasts.
Caspian stood behind me. His chest touched my back, and his cock pressed hot against the curve of my ass.
I drew his hand down my stomach and between my thighs.
His fingers found me wet. He stroked through it once, then circled my clit while his mouth moved along the side of my neck.
My head fell back against his shoulder.
“Tell me,” he said.
“I want you inside me.”
I bent over the ledge and reached back for his hip.
Caspian set the head of his cock against my opening. He waited until I pushed back.
He entered me slowly. The stretch pulled a low sound from my throat, and his hand tightened at my waist as he filled me.
When he was fully inside, his breath broke against my shoulder.
I moved first, drawing forward until only the head remained, then taking him deep again.
His other hand closed over mine on the ledge. The bond opened between us, fear still present beneath the heat gathering with every stroke.
Outside the door, the steward shifted.
We went still.
The shadow beneath the door moved away again.
“He can’t see us,” Caspian whispered.
“I know.”
I pushed back hard enough to take him to the base.
His restraint broke. He drove into me with one hand at my hip and the other still covering mine. The cold edge of the ledge pressed into my palms. His body struck mine from behind, each thrust carrying through the bond as well as flesh.
Caspian reached between my thighs again.
His fingers worked my clit while he fucked me, holding me against the pace I had asked for. Pleasure tightened until my legs began to shake.
“Don’t stop,” I said.
He didn’t.
I came bent over the silver-lit stone, his cock deep inside me and his fingers still moving. My body clenched around him, and the answering surge through the bond kept the pleasure moving long after my breath broke.
He gripped my hip and thrust through the last contractions.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Come inside me.”
Caspian came with my name rough against the back of my neck.
We stayed joined while our breathing slowed. His arms closed around my waist, and he rested his forehead between my shoulders.
“Did Magnus know what Walkin believes I can do?” I asked.
“He heard it from the administrator.”
“And?”
“He looked frightened.” Caspian lifted his head. “Then he asked for a copy of the order.”
I ran my fingers through his hair.
“Useful,” I said.
“Infuriatingly.”
I kissed him once, softer.
Beyond the door, a key touched the lock in warning.
We separated and dressed without speaking. Caspian fastened my dress where my hands could not reach, then pressed his mouth to the back of my neck.
The key turned.
Caspian caught my hand before the steward opened the door.
Neither of us let go.