The Stars fell—the Shattering sending a shockwave of destruction across the empyrean and destroying much of Astradeon and the surrounding realms. Chaos ensued with the imbalance and emptiness of the heavens.
Astraia fought back a wave of anger as she recounted the story. The Stars were shattered to prevent Dominion’s corrupted rule, but they abandoned everyone in the process—most importantly, they abandoned the Starborne.
Caelan stood, refocusing Astraia on the present, and extended a hand toward her. “Dance with me.”
Astraia was accustomed to danger, just not the kind of danger dressed in a tailored suit. Every fiber of her conscience was screaming for her to reject Caelan’s outstretched hand, but a spark of curiosity overruled her instincts.
Placing her hand in his, she was swept from her chair and led to the center of the dining hall. He guided her left hand to his shoulder as he slid his right hand to rest on the small of her exposed back. Her skin pebbled at his touch, and Caelan smirked with devious satisfaction.
Grasping her right hand firmly in his, he led her around the hall in a flurry of twirling and refined steps. It took her a few turns, but muscle memory took over, and she was floating effortlessly. The opulent hall seemed to melt away, blurring as they glided on the marble floors.
Astraia felt weightless, and for the first time in years, she glimpsed a shimmer of hope. Hope that her days did not need to be spent in constant fear—her light being smothered and snuffed out by the world and its demons. The spark of hope was small, but it was the brightest light she had seen in her dim world in so long that she clung to the possibility regardless of the odds.
Caelan held her gaze as they danced. His eyes spoke louder than words, a fierce declaration of claim. He had told her hewould never let her go again, and Astraia could see that vow was written plainly in his stare.
She should be apprehensive. She should challenge his reclamation. She should tread carefully on their history. There was a lot a trained warrior should do, but tonight she was not a weapon. Tonight she was simply a runaway Starborne. Tonight, she liked the notion of being claimed.
Caelan’s smile fell as he spoke. “So what happened to your cryptic companion?”
Astraia was wondering when he would ask about Draven’s absence. She was honestly shocked that he had held his tongue for so long.
“He left,” she replied, deadpan. She refused to allow her disappointment of Draven’s abandonment to taint this sliver of happiness she had found.
“I see,” he said, an eyebrow raised obviously in confusion, but he did not probe for answers. A smile once again graced his handsome face as he slowed their steps and stopped. “I want to show you something.”
Lacing her fingers in his, he led her away from the dining hall through a side door, avoiding the footmen. After several turns down corridors, Caelan came to one of Astraia’s favorite places in the manor.
The smell of old manuscripts filled her nose as the massive wooden door to the library swung wide, and she could not help the smile that spread across her face.
Although she had spent hours hidden among the hundreds of manuscripts and scrolls housed in the two-story archives, it never ceased to amaze her how so many had survived the Shattering and hundreds of years after. Volpes boasted one of the most extensive records of the Celestial War and before, even compared to the Celestial Court registry.
Caelan chuckled as he watched her soak in the library’s splendor. “I know you love to bury your head in these books, but this is not why we’re here.”
He tugged her hand and walked to the far end of the library next to a window overlooking the gardens. The moon was full, casting beams of light on the trees and flowers below—solace in an otherwise lightless night sky.
Caelan turned to face a tapestry hanging on one of the walls next to the window, pulling aside the fabric to reveal a hidden door.
Astraia stilled, releasing her hand from his grip. “Luring women into secret doorways may have worked for your past flings, but you’ll find yourself missing a favorite appendage if you think you’ll be able to tempt me with your charms.”
“You may find you like my charms.” He smirked, his green eyes glimmering in the moonlight. He grasped her hand once more and opened the hidden door, revealing a winding stone staircase. “Come on, Astraia, where’s your sense of adventure?” he challenged her, then started ascending the stairs, slowly pulling her upward.
After several turns around the staircase, another smaller door opened to a massive circular room, barely lit by moonlight spilling in from a small round window. Caelan led her to the center of the room, then dropped her hand.
“Wait here,” he whispered as he strode over to the wall opposite the window.
“What is this place, Caelan?” she asked, staring up at the domed ceiling, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
“This was a room for viewing the Stars before the Shattering. It is one of the only original structures that withstood the Shattering aftermath. The manor was actually built around it a hundred years after. I discovered it years ago. No one else knows about it, or perhaps forgot it was here.”
Caelan walked to the edge of the room several feet from Astraia. He halted in front of a large metal lever that protruded from the stone wall. “The Stars may be gone, but I found a way to still see them with the full moon.”
Just as he pulled down the lever, a series of loud clicking noises rang through the room. Astraia whipped her head around.
Warm hands grasped hers once more as Caelan came to stand in front of her. “Look up, Traia.”
Astraia broke his stare and cast her eyes skyward, gasping.
Metal plates peeled away from the ceiling, leaving a glass dome in its place. The glass was dark, semi-transparent, with the moon looking down at them.
