Of Dreams & Ash (Elusive Umbra #2)

1. Kyros

Chapter one

Kyros

Hate. Such a powerful emotion, and one that is counter to everything a person is usually taught to strive for in a just world.

For people like me and Astraea, though—it’s so deeply engraved within us there is no escaping it.

Maybe in a perfect world we would have been able to avoid its clutches, but since we were only children when her father upturned so many lives, we’ve been forced to adopt the emotion; he ensured its existence.

Even now, I feel it stirring its toxicity within my mind; I see it blooming within the distant stormy gaze that sits across from me.

She hasn’t lifted her eyes to meet mine since I deposited her on the damp forest floor.

The silence speaks everything we can’t put words to. At least not yet.

The betrayal is written all over her face. Pain, anger, sadness, worry—they are all stitched to every crease that etches into it.

Moonlight filters through the thick boughs of the surrounding trees and creates dancing shadows across us.

A breeze cuts through the forest, making the branches sway and leaves rustle.

Eventually, the glow is devoured by the cloudy night entirely.

Sending us further into the dreary darkness, both physically and emotionally.

I clear my throat, being the first to crack the long stretch of heavy silence.

The tension between us hangs thick in the air.

Between the stifled breaths, it is impossible to tell how much time has even passed.

“We should get moving.” I finally croak through my torn-up throat.

My bellows during the battle caused it to be rough and raw; pain I welcome after seeing the sorrow I’ve caused.

Astraea stays unrelenting in her stillness, just a slow, resigned blink at my words.

But I watch as the crease between her brows deepens just a fraction, anger now taking over all other emotions.

Swallowing, I lace my hands together between my legs, my elbows resting on my knees as I crouch in front of her.

“Are you hurt?” I ask the question that has been burning at me since we landed here.

I keep trying to look over her body for injury.

Even though my hands twitch with the need to reach out to touch her, to caress her soft cheek, and to give her reassurance that she will be okay.

Something I don’t know if I can truly assure her. I don’t touch her.

I chew the inside of my cheek raw as my eyes dance over her face, understanding what is so clearly written there.

Several more moments of uneasy silence sit between us.

Her nostrils begin to flare, and her chin dimples on a quiver as a single tear escapes her thick lashes.

It rolls down her cheek, and quickly it’s followed by another on the opposite side.

When she blinks again, more fall. Silently, a river of emotion floods her eyes and streaks her face.

Each tear collecting in a pool, drowning my heart in her pain.

“Yes, Kyros, I’m hurt.” She slowly replies sullenly as she finally lifts her eyes to mine. She looks at me with such complete desolation that it rips through me like a serrated blade, tearing at my flesh like a mortal wound.

“Where?” My voice cracks on that one word.

“Please. Let me help you.” The words barely leave my lips as I continue scouring her body, in hopes I can find where the pain is.

When her hand slowly comes up to her chest, and she rubs the place just above her heart… I know it’s not an injury I will find.

I grit my teeth, and my brows pull together even more—I did this. I am no better than the men I told her I would protect her from. The pain I inflicted on her is evident to me now. The betrayal was a weapon that caused irrevocable damage, even if that was not my intent.

She has no physical wounds, only the ones that I’ve caused to her heart.

I knew that the truth of who I am would destroy her.

I knew, but I was selfish in my own needs and wants.

Now, the fragile trust I could see building between us has been obliterated.

Perhaps in another lifetime I could have been a man who would have seen the pain this decision would have brought and chosen to save her the heartache.

Even now as I reflect back on it, I know I would be fooling myself if I thought I could have done it any differently.

I warned her not to look for a savior in me.

She claimed to be a warrior; I just gave her another silent battle.

This is our reality now. Whether we like it or not, we have to face it.

Rocking back onto my heels, I nod as we stay locked in a war of no words.

Eventually, I stand and put a small amount of distance between us.

Not so much that it would be hard to protect her if something or someone were to attack, but enough space that I see her shoulders physically release some tension with my absence.

That fact causes an ache I didn't realize would be possible to build behind the wall of my chest. I can admit that we need a moment to collect our thoughts before we start on the journey that lies ahead…

But a moment is all we have, and I am man enough to admit this failure fucking hurts.

I grind my teeth. As much as I want to be able to give her time and space, there are too many moving pieces for us to be the ones who stay stagnant for too long.

The portal I rendered to get us here was the quickest and strongest I have ever conjured.

The magick I harnessed had felt like an endless chasm, and I was the conduit to release it back into the void.

But the power I felt when I was trying to close it?

It felt like so much more… Even now, a chill creeps over my skin, thinking about how it drained me so entirely.

I was flooded with an all-consuming energy that helped me get Astraea out, but the creature who sent his own shadow magick out at me was not what I imagined.

My magick responded in a way that it had never done before and was sapped, with barely enough left to close the portal between us.

I was forced to decide quickly. In my haste, I brought her to the only place I could think of that I knew would be safe and that would give us a little time to decide what our next step should be.

I can only hope that the creature couldn’t sense where I was aiming my magick to take us.

At least until I figure out what it is they’re after or why it seems like everyone wants Astraea.

Diemos is the only place no one would think I would go.

Especially not after the ambush that unfolded at the Shula Morana.

When I saw Queen Phaedra step from the darkness, I knew that Astraea was not safe with her—that she had more planned than she disclosed to me.

Not to mention the display of magick. I’ve never seen her wield anything like it.

And while bringing Astraea here isn’t safe by any means, it is the least expected.

It was either that or returning to Eathian.

The way I see it, there is a much higher probability of our survival in the forests and dark dwellings of Diemos than in the arid desert with murderous pirates paid to find her.

I may have suspected that Phaedra had other plans for the Princess, but not to this extent.

Seeing the portal and that nightmare creature at her side?

King Connard screaming for his daughter and whatever poison that Phaedra was spilling in her ears?

I felt like I was trudging through quicksand.

I felt as though I was never going to reach Astraea before the nightmare had sunk its claws into her.

My eyes trail back to her and catch on her booted feet.

I hadn’t even noticed at the Shula Morana that she was not wearing her usual style of dress.

The clothing, much like Zinya’s, had been covered by a cloak, which now sits damp, tattered, and hanging heavily from her frame.

She has sand glittering on the side of her face, where it and her raven hair clings to her sweat and tear-soaked cheek.

Her lips are pursed, pink with internal heat, and her cheeks stained the same rosy hue.

She looks so devastatingly and beautifully broken but also more resilient than I have ever seen her.

Even if she doesn't see it herself, I see her strength.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally ask, while my muscles clench with the fervent need to lift her from the mossy forest floor.

They ache with the desire to soothe her pain, but I can see plainly that it’s not what she needs because it was me who caused so much of it.

I know that my choices haven't always been the best, but I made the ones I thought I had to.

I can only blame myself for not realizing sooner that the only choice that mattered, the only thing that I would never regret, was choosing her.

There is not a life where this choice would have been any different. I would choose the same every time.

I still choose her.

Maybe Karnnen was right about something. She will be the death of you.

“Talk about it?” She asks incredulously. “As though the ‘it’ you speak of is the weather? That’s obtuse, King Kyros. Even for you.”

The question wasn’t meant to anger her, but at least she finally moves from the almost catatonic state she had been in. Rising to her feet, she looks up at me, where I have stopped pacing to ask her the question.

“Maybe we can talk about it when you are ready to admit that you let me believe you saw me for more. You promised not to let anyone hurt me again, only to be the one who has caused some of the deepest scars I now carry.” She continues, not waiting for me to respond.

I don’t counter her words. There isn’t anything I can say right now to make this situation any better.

She’s right.