He held out a sword to her, a smaller one than his broadsword he kept strapped to his back, but just as sharp.
“If you don’t learn how to harness it, you’ll just keep losing control. Your fear of it is more dangerous,” he said, stepping closer to her. The moonlight reflected off his eyes, creating an ethereal glow, not unlike the glow of her bonds.
“I’m not fighting you.” She stood her ground, refusing to relent. Her fists were clenched at her sides, eyes glowering at the bounty hunter.
“Then let me be clear—this isn’t a request.” He stepped closer, closing the space between them. His hand gripped hers, firm as he pressed the hilt of the sword into her palm. His touch lingered, deliberate, eyes locked to hers like a challenge. Then, slowly—he leaned in.
Her breath hitched, chest rising faster as heat bloomed beneath her skin. Her lips parted on instinct—half anticipation, half defiance. She braced for a smirk, a quip, anything to break the tension tightening around them.
His eyes flicked her lips, desire burning behind those flaming eyes. He angled his mouth to her ear. “Let’s see how dangerous you really are.”
She shivered.Damn him.
Without warning, steel sang from his back—and his blade came down, swift and brutal, toward Astraia’s head. The sound of steel meeting steel echoed in the night as she barely managed to raise the sword up to meet his strike.
But he did not relent. Her parry only spurred his enthusiasm as another set of blows rained down on her.
It took a few strikes for Astraia to familiarize herself with the sword in her hand and Draven’s fight pattern. At first, the movements were mechanical. Blocks, swings, dodges. Draven corrected her form only when necessary, saying little.
But then she began to move with more fire. Her footwork sped. Her strikes gained intent. She could almost anticipate his next move.
Then the thick blanket of warmth thrummed from her spine, weaving its way outward into her mind, her arms, her legs.
“I can feel it,” she gasped between strikes, sweat beading on her forehead.
“Good. Don’t run from it. Anchor yourself first,” Draven breathed, halting his assault.
Astraia swam into the depths of her mind, where she kept that precious box protected. Her Elion, her tether—always ready to save her, to pull her back to herself. She pried the lid open, gently coaxing the memory forward. The light of his laughter echoed in her consciousness. His smile flashed before her eyes.
She took a deep breath, focusing on her tether.
“Are you anchored?” Draven asked firmly and took a few steps toward her, his boots muffled by the mossy earth surrounding them.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m anchored.”
“Now, I want you to let it extend beyond you. Your anchor isn’t just about keeping yourself rooted. You need to extend the anchor to the world around you. Push it to the heavens.”
She hesitated, panic starting to cloud her vision. “But what if I flare and I can’t control it?”
“Traia, look at me,” he commanded. He placed a finger under her chin, tipping it upward, and their eyes met. Not an ounce of fear in his gaze. “Elion’s death is not your fault. The bond does not own you. You command it.”
The words hit her like a current.
She loosened her grip on her tether, allowing it to surface from her mind, and compelled it forward. She willed it to seep into the earth, move with the wind, crash into streams, fly toward the barren night sky.
She flared. Not completely—the glow of her Power bond coated her body, illuminating the glen around them in white light.
A smile crept onto her face as she stared at her hands, embracing her second bond for the first time in her life without fear.
Her eyes lifted to meet Draven’s. A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth, and she sensed it—the raw, terrifying pull defying gravity, drawing them closer. Stars, it was unfair that he could look at her like that. Like he’d already chosen to burn for her.
She lowered the blade, panting, chest heaving with the force of it all.
“Well, I guess you’re not as hopeless as I thought,” Draven said, pulling the sword from Astraia’s hand, and winked at her.
“I can still gut you, bounty hunter,” she quipped, her glow ebbing as she sealed her memories away.
“I have no doubt, Starborne, but before you do, I’m going to bathe and sleep. I suggest you do the same,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the wide stream flowing by their camp.
