Chapter Thirty-Three #3
It doesn’t take much. Only a movement—a moment of hesitation. I don’t even realize I’ve pushed him away until his eyes snap open, and he stumbles back a step, his cheeks flushed.
He runs a hand through his hair, sweat-slicked strands falling over his forehead. “Forgive me,” he pants, breathless. “I shouldn’t have—It was wrong of me to—”
Panic churns my stomach. “No, no, it’s not you, it’s—”
“Please, Aster,” he begs, his voice cracking, “you don’t have to explain. I—” He grinds his jaw, pressing his fists to his eyes as he lets out a hoarse chuckle. “I’m such a fool.”
I reach for him at the very moment Margaret comes bounding around the corner, a pillow clutched to her chest. She skids to a halt, her eyes narrowing on Titus’s disheveled hair—his swollen lips.
“Titus,” she says stiffly.
Titus casts his eyes skyward, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, but he forces a smile as he turns to face her fully. “Margaret,” he says, offering a curt nod. “Congratulations.”
She nods slowly, flicking a glance at the door to my chambers. “You mind?”
“Marge—” I start, but Titus waves his hand.
“I was just leaving!” Titus says quickly, looking flustered. “I’ll, uh—I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Margaret watches him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion as he practically flees around the corner and out of sight. “What was that all about?”
My cheeks heat, my heart like a wild animal in my chest. “No idea.”
She quirks her brows as she gives me a gentle shove into my bedroom and closes the door behind us. She huffs a sigh, falling back onto my bed. “I wish the two of you would just admit you’re madly in love with each other and put the rest of us out of our misery.”
I nearly choke. My mouth works, a protest on the tip of my tongue, when—
“I second that,” Lewis says, climbing in through my open window.
I scoff. “Excuse me?”
“Really, Aster,” Charlie says as he bursts through my door, Albert at his heels.
The two of them carry plates piled high with desserts.
Charlie pops a tiny cake into his mouth, speaking around the mouthful when he adds, “I don’t know how much longer you’re planning on dragging this out, but if you don’t propose to the guy, I will. ”
“Propose?” My voice pitches, unnaturally high. I clear my throat, hands on my hips, as I watch Lewis arrange blankets on my floor—four makeshift bedrolls.
Margaret pats the space beside her on my bed. “Just like the bunkhouse on the Lightbringer,” she says, and for a moment, I stare at her, unable to swallow the lump rising in my throat.
Margaret is getting married tomorrow. Life is still moving forward, just as it did after the Lightbringer sank. During our time at Bludgrave Manor, I let my grief overwhelm me, and it cost me precious time with my siblings—time with Elsie.
I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes. I don’t want to lose myself as time slips by. That’s what the Underlings want—what Morana feeds on. Hopelessness. Fear. Shame. Regret.
A tear slips onto my cheek at the very moment a raven lands on my windowsill.
In the blink of an eye, Owen transforms, lounging on the wooden casing, his legs draped haphazardly over the window frame. He grins, eyes bright with mischief.
And that’s all it takes for the emotions I’ve tried to hold in to come spilling out of me in horrible, gut-wrenching sobs.
It’s Charlie who pulls me into a hug, his strong, sturdy arms enveloping me without hesitation.
Margaret rubs my back, hushing me softly. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
Lewis squeezes my arm. “We might not have the power of the Lightbringer,” he says, dabbing at my tears with a ruffled handkerchief, “but we’re stronger together.”
“You don’t have to hide from us,” Charlie says, drawing back to look me in the eye. His expression is hard, but his voice is gentle. “We know you, Az. Even the ugly bits.”
“Especially the ugly bits,” Albert adds with a snort.
My laugh sounds more like a croak, but my chest swells with love for my siblings.
Love. Not fear. That’s how we beat Morana.
That’s how we take back what’s been stolen from us.
Owen stands smoothly, adjusting the lapels of his worn brown leather coat.
“Death is the only defeat,” he says, retrieving the Elysian Navigator from an interior pocket, placing both the map and the compass on the small chest of drawers.
“And an Oberon is never defeated.” He does a sort of half bow before turning to look out the window, gazing up at the stars above.
“Even when we’re gone, we’ll all be Stars. ”
He makes his way over to us then, placing his hands on Charlie’s and my shoulders. His gaze meets each of my siblings, calm and certain, before landing finally on me.
“Let’s make an oath,” Owen says. “We’ll always stick together.”
Charlie nods, solemn. “I swear it.”
“I swear it!” Albert chimes in.
“I swear it,” Margaret and Lewis say.
Owen dips his head to me. “I swear it.”
I catch my breath. Wipe the tears from my face.
“I swear it,” I say. “In this life and the next.”
A sad, knowing sort of smile curves Owen’s lips. “In this life and the next.”