Astraia moaned as she settled herself into the steaming water, eager to let the heat melt away her sore muscles. The wraith had drained her, mentally and physically. Her right arm still throbbed, even though her bond had already reset the bone and likely stitched together the ligaments and tendons that had torn. Massaging her arm, she tried to recall when it had broken, but she had flared so fiercely, it overpowered her natural senses during the fight with the wraith—dulling her pain response.
She lifted her legs from the water one at a time, inspecting for any sign of the burns Draven had mentioned, but only saw a few miniscule white scars on her left upper thigh.
Sometimes, Astraia yearned for more scars to ruin her porcelain skin. Her bond always intervened to keep her intact, but the life-threatening wounds she had experienced were only a thread of memory etched on her skin—a pale line her only reminder.
In her darker moments, she had wished her face was marred with deep horrific scars. So that every day she could look at herself in the small circular mirror in her apartment in Tenebris and remember the monster she was—the monster created by the Stars, who damned her brother.
Astraia dipped her head underwater, trying to drown the darkness in her mind. But the darkness was always there, looming on the edge of her thoughts.
She took her time in the bath but knew the rest of her journey would not wait forever. Sighing, she wrapped a towel around herself and folded up Draven’s shirt to replace in her satchel.
Opening the door to the washroom, she found Draven standing not a foot away from her, shirtless, his hand raised to knock on the door.
Tanned, scarred skin glistened in the lamplight. Every single muscle toned.
His gaze traveled from the towel wrapped around her, barely reaching her knees, and finally landed on her eyes. His hand dropped, but he did not step away from her.
“I was just finished,” she said, acutely aware of their closeness.
His insufferable smirk played across his mouth, and she could not help her eyes from flicking to his lips. She wondered what they would taste like—whether they were harsh like his hands, or soft like his eyes.
Stars save me, she thought, then blinked.
“Don’t leave on my account,” he said.
Astraia rolled her eyes and huffed, sidestepping his hulking form.
She could have sworn she heard him chuckle before the door closed behind him.
Chapter 20
My enemies knock at my gates, threatening my peace. They roar like beasts, demanding their pound of flesh. They believe me weak, easy to succumb to their blades. But I will bring blades of light and wipe their dark stain from the realm.
Personal Journal of Queen Virtus, Ruler of the Celestial Court, Queen of Astradeon in the fortieth-year post Shattering
ASTRAIA WAS CERTAIN HER MUSCLES would simply implode on their way to Volpes. Her Sacrifice bond was still not at even half strength after her flare with the wraith, and the residual soreness from her battle and injuries echoed with every step Orion made along the road.
She tried to distract herself from the pain by identifying each of the trees and shrubs that lined the road as they traveled. The closer they got to Volpes, the lusher and thicker the flora became. She used to be able to name every native plant in Volpes, but now she struggled to recall them as if the five years had erased them from her memory.
For several hours, only hoofbeats and the distant trill of a meadowlark filled the air. Then Draven cleared his throat.
His voice was smooth, low enough to rattle her spine. “So, Starborne—what’s your plan once we reach Volpes? In case I need to save you from certain death again.”
Astraia flinched and brought Orion to an abrupt halt. Draven’s mount skidded beside her.
“Ah, I see. So you get to know my agenda, but I can’t know anything about you, where you came from, who sent you, why you’re insistent on following me, and why you keep aiding me? That’s what you consider fair? Well, that’s not how this works,bounty hunter,” she quipped.
Her voice wavered with rage as her Power bond flickered to life—ivory light pulsing beneath her skin. “I’ve been sharpened into a weapon by the very people who claimed me as blood. They lied. And it cost me my brother.” Heat roiled under her cloak, her hands clenched white around Orion’s reins. “Don’t mistake my gratitude for blind trust.”
For a heartbeat, she toyed with her tether, the promise of total abandon calling to her. But she remembered the feeling of near burnout and pulled back.
She let out a small gasp as she realized her tether had completely transformed. No longer did her brother’s carefree face flash before her eyes, unlocked from the safe box she stored within the crevice of her mind. Instead, she was holding a tiny thread of gold. The thread was smooth, but incredibly strong.
Curious, Astraia gently tugged on the thread, only to find it did not budge. She traced the thread in her mind, seeking the origin. Gazing across the calm surface, she could see the thread extending beyond the horizon of her mind, pulled taut and aimed toward the heavens. There, in the middle of the expanse, was the faint glittering light that had blinked to life during her burnout.
It was the Stars. Sacrifice and Power. They formed her tether.
And it was stronger than any anchor she had tried before.
