33. Astraea #2
“I’m so sorry, my love. It was never meant to come to this.
” The voice, which I can now tell is distinctly female, says into the top of my head.
Confusion pulls my brows to the center of my forehead.
None of this is quite right. It's unlike any dream I’ve had before.
It’s more like a dream within a dream, familiar but unrecognizable.
The woman’s hold around me is weakening.
I feel her grip on me letting up the further we get to where the trees turn to darkness.
“What was never meant to come to this? What is this? Where are we? Who are you?” The questions come without pause between each.
An impending sense of panic surges through my chest, and that searing heat that is always lassoed around my ribs remains.
Tears that I don’t understand fill my vision and my heart with sorrow.
“Who are you?” I repeat, but there is no response.
“What do you mean? Please, answer me. Please! I need answers!” I beg and plead as I try to twist in her slackened arms, but just as I do, the umbra takes me into the darkness.
“Concede to the shadows—" The woman whispers as I fall.
“Shula—wake up!” The new voice is sharp and clear in my mind, becoming increasingly louder and closer.
My body jerks out of my sleep state, eyes snapping open.
I blink rapidly, looking for the source of the sound.
The moment I am upright, the room shifts from complete blackness to the fuzzy haze of the candle-lit bedroom I fell asleep in.
However, the thundering in my heart stays the hazardous speed it was.
Kyros shifts back, on his knees at the edge of the bed.
He’s still shirtless but sweating and clearly shaken over something.
“What? What is it?” I ask just as hushed, reaching for him while also pulling at the sheets to cover my still naked body.
Disoriented and still trying to process what is real and what was so different about my dream—trying to think of everything new that I felt, saw, or heard, but the confusion is doubled seeing Kyros like this upon waking.
“Shhh, hurry, get dressed.” He hisses, looking around the floor and throwing fabric at me and over his head.
He moves around on all fours, continually sweeping the room with his eyes.
The frantic feeling in my chest from the dream never subsides.
The feeling has only sunk further into me seeing Kyros so…
rattled. The unshakable man that he is. I’ve never seen him like this before.
Something has obviously distressed him; what the hell is going on?
I don’t question any longer than the split second it takes me to shake out of my stupor and do as he says.
Once I am finished haphazardly dressing, Kyros sits me down on the bed and kneels in front of me.
He lifts my leg and slips my foot into my boot, then places it on his knee.
He quickly tugs at the laces as he looks up at me through tired eyes.
My heart cracks at the exhaustion and something almost sorrowful on his face.
“Kyros?” I whisper. I would be lying if I tried to tell myself I wasn’t worried. Something about this feeling sitting on my chest is heavy. Something is wrong.
“Where are your blades?” He asks, lifting the other foot and slipping my boot into place. I look around the room, seeing the top of one of the grips sticking out from under the bed.
“There.” I point to it on the floor, and he nods, quickly leaning down and grabbing the leather straps that holster the blades.
Behind him something loud bangs and then slides across the wood floor.
It sounds like it came from down the hall in the shared living space.
His shoulders stiffen before he continues to lace up my boot with increasing urgency.
He says nothing for a moment, only taking a deep breath before finishing off tying my boots.
When he's done, he hooks his hand behind my calf and looks up to meet my eyes.
“Kellan was tracked. Some Diemos soldiers arrived just hours ago looking for him. We only have a small window before more come.” He speaks quickly but quietly.
Have I been asleep for hours while he has been out there dealing with whatever the hell transpired with the Diemos soldiers?
“Luckily the reconnaissance team are people I once commanded and have their earned trust. Otherwise there is a good probability that more people would be dead right now.” I nod, though I’m not fully understanding.
Wait, more people? He must see something on my face that tells just how confused I am because his hand brushes up and down the back of the leg he still holds on his bent knee.
He leans forward and says firmly, “We are getting out of here. No more people of mine will be taken by her. I swear it.”