Astraia wanted to kill him. His ego had clearly been left unchecked, and she would happily oblige to bestow some humility upon the bounty hunter.
But her anger was two-fold. She had been reckless, letting those monsters get remotely close to her while she slept. If not for her bond, she would have been wolf prey.
Astraia stepped forward, matching his arrogance with pointed disdain. He stiffened but did not move.
A familiar pine and smoke smell lingered in the small space between them.
“So that’s your game?” she seethed, “Let me nearly die just to sweep in at the last second and play hero?”
He returned her stare, not a shred of empathy or softness reflecting back at her. “I told you, protecting my asset. It’s not profitable for you to die—yet.”
She flinched at the wordyet.
“You waited until I was about to die,” she seethed, voice rising in frustration.
That devilish smile that made Astraia’s pulse throb crept back onto his face. “You looked like you needed a lesson.”
Her blood boiled. “Lesson?”
“Maybe now you’ll think twice before slapping horses and running blind into cursed woods.”
They stood there, breathing hard. His face was too close to hers, with an irritatingly calm expression. His hand still rested on the hilt of his blade, as if contemplating if she was done being a threat.
“Stars! I should have killed you!” she yelled, whirling away from Draven, anger threatening to unleash her bonds. She marched to where Orion had retreated closer to the river.
“You flared,” he called after her, tone quieter now. “And it wasn’t Sacrifice.”
Astraia froze mid-step. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” He paused. “I’ve never seen a flare so strong. That was Power.”
Her breath caught. Her bond stirred—almost like it was listening too. “You’re not safe.”
He tilted his head. “Neither are you.”
“How do you know about Sacrifice?” She quipped.
“You think the alleyway was the first time I had seen you?” he chuckled, “your little escapades into the slums were quite entertaining to watch. What exactly were you trying to accomplish? It was like spitting on a housefire.”
“Howdareyou,” she seethed. Her hand lit with a white flare of Power, a pulse of warning light between them.
He did not flinch, but stared at her hand like it was a particularly stupid animal. “You flare like a child throwing atantrum,” he pointed out. “No wonder everyone wants you dead.”
He withdrew a set of cold iron manacles from his cloak. The runes etched into them pulsed faintly—dull, silencing, wrong.
“Come one step closer with those, and we’ll see if the color of your blood matches that black heart of yours,” she hissed, hand hovering above the hilt of her dagger.
He did not heed her warning, stepping toward her, the crunch of scorched grass cutting through the forest. “You nearly lit the forest on fire. Again. I’m not dragging a star-flaring liability into Aquarian unless I’m sure you won’t incinerate the first person who looks at you sideways.”
She clenched her fists. “You don’t get to chain me like some cursed beast.”
“Try to run again, and I’ll knock you unconscious and haul you in over my saddle.”
She could feel every hair on her body stand on end, her bonds screaming at her to run, to fight, to make sure this hunter never laid a hand on another Starborne again. White and blue light lit her fingertips, demanding to be unleashed once more.
“You see?” he said quietly. “Even now, you’re not in control.”
She stared at him and the foreboding manacles in his calloused hands. Her pulse quickened, and the forest around her stilled in anticipation as he stepped within arm’s reach, eyeing her with a smirk.
