Her breath came easier, and her pulse slowed, her senses snapping back to normalcy as Power and Sacrifice subsided.
She could feel her bonds waning, being pulled back to her, lights fading around her closed eyes.
Astraia fluttered her eyes open, letting her vision clear.
Warm, amber hues stared back at her.
“There you are, Starborne.” Draven spoke softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A sight Astraia thought she would never see again.
“Here I am, bounty hunter,” she croaked, her throat sore from the ash.
Then, darkness took her.
Chapter 19
The initial battle that sparked rebellion by the wraiths, stewards of Dominion, was that of the siege on Interitus, the capital of Luxterra. The shadow demons overran the walls of the city, charging Nyrekh through the gates.
Broken: The Celestial War
THE FIRST THING ASTRAIA NOTICED was softness on her bare skin. Silky smoothness caressed her arms and legs. She was also warm—warm and cradled in clouds.
Her mind was clear. There was no dark abyss threatening to drown her. Just the calm serenity of her mind. She did not search for Elion. She was afraid of what she would find, or not find. And she decidedly did not have the strength for any mental turmoil.
It was quiet, but she could make out the faint sound of several people talking and laughing coming from somewhere close by, perhaps even beneath her. She breathed deep, relishing the ability to draw breath so easily without burnout mere moments from claiming her.
A calming scent filled her nose as she inhaled—pine and wood smoke.
Her eyes flew open at the familiarity.
Gazing around, she gained her bearings. She was in a small bed, covered in satin sheets and a warm, intricate quilt. She was wearing the tunic Draven had lent her in Aquarian. Her hands were clean of blood and soot, and her hair had been washed. Unsure how she had gotten cleaned and dressed while she had been passed out was unsettling to her, but she did not linger long on the notion, as a creak of the door opening interrupted her thoughts.
Contrary to her cleanliness, Draven was still coated in black, sickly wraith blood, and ash peppered his hair and face. He had removed his Drakari-scale leather armor, wearing a white long-sleeved shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His mysterious mural of tattoos was visible, along with some newer scars that appeared to be scorch marks on his arms and hands. They only served to enhance the plethora of marks from previous injuries and battles he likely had faced. She recalled his battle with the wraith, the way he effortlessly dispatched Dominion’s steward—sheer power incarnate.
Her gaze rose to his battle-worn face. A strand of his unkempt hair fell over his eyes, and his beard could use a shave.
What was worse, was that not only was he irritatingly beautiful on the outside, but she was starting to see cracks through his rogue bounty hunter facade that showed a man of worth.
Astraia did not believe trust had been earned by Draven. But he had come to her aid. Time and time again. That had to mean something.
“Nice of you to join the living, Starborne,” he said, clearing his throat as he closed the door behind him. Astraia could have sworn there was a hint of relief in his voice, but she did not dwell on the thought.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Astraia narrowed her eyes at his retort.
He smirked, that annoying tug at the corner of his mouth that enraged and excited her.
“How long have I been asleep?” She eyed the small room around her, noticing sparse furniture, but there was a window overlooking a grassy field outside. It must be about mid-morning, based on the sun’s rays casting shadows from the trees.
“About two days,” he replied.
“What?” Astraia breathed, her gaze whipping back to Draven.
He sighed and slumped down into the chair next to her. “You passed out after you nearly burned out. You had several burns again. And a broken arm as well, I’m guessing from meeting the wraith’s blows with your dagger. Your Sacrifice bond did not awaken immediately to help heal you, so I brought you here.” Draven eyed her right arm as if waiting for it to snap in two, not totally convinced it had actually healed.
“Why?” she asked, tone low in disbelief.
“What?” He stared at her, confused.
“Why did you come after me? Why not let the wraith end me? You could have taken my body to the king and collected your reward. Instead, you followed me into the fire. You finished the wraith. You saved me from burning out. Then you brought me here to heal. Time and time again youkeepsaving me. I need to know why, bounty hunter—if that’s even your true occupation.” She tried to keep her voice even as tears of frustration threatened to spill.
