But instead of moonbeams, Astraia noticed thousands of small holes had been carved out of the glass dome. As she focused on the masterpiece of engineering, realization hit her.
Stars. It was a map of all the Constellations dotting the dark glass.
“What? How?” she asked breathlessly, in awe as she stared at the replica of what the star-filled skies would have looked like before the War.
“It’s Stardust mixed with glass and some obsidian. It took me several months to figure out the right proportions and heating point. I broke probably a hundred of the glass panes before it was set,” Caelan said, staring up at the simulated expanse.
Astraia blinked, refocusing her eyes on his as he marveled at his own creation. “You…you made this?”
He lowered his face and met her gaze. “I told you my uncle helped me cope with my grief with art,” he murmured as he held both of his hands in hers. “Even when you were…gone, I still wanted to give you the world—to give you the Stars.”
Astraia sensed tears gathering on the edge of her vision. He had made this for her—a way to grieve her and keep her alive atthe same time. He had given her the Stars while she had hidden away in the slums.
She did not deserve his heart, his dedication to her. She had hurt another person she had loved, and it was eating at her soul. Dark thoughts flickered to life again on the edge of her mind, just a hair's breadth away from dragging her into the blackness. All she ever accomplished in this Stars-forsaken realm was causing pain. She had inflicted so many scars over the years without even raising a hand. Her bonds were no blessing from the Stars—they were a curse.
The instincts she had ignored earlier were screaming now. She needed to leave and disappear before she caused more pain.
“Caelen…” she started, relaxing her hands in his.
“Astraia, please… I have thought of you every moment since that…that day. Not a single sunset passed without a memory of you flooding my mind. I had resolved myself to never know love again—that I was blessed by the Stars to find love once, and that was enough for me. I blamed myself. If only I had insisted you stay here with me instead of letting you leave. Maybe… Maybe…” He trailed off, stepping away from her, pacing the room. His footfalls echoed on the floors. “But now you’re here. I thought Graves had gone mad when he told me you were here. Stars, Astraia, I nearly fainted when I saw you.”
Caelan stepped over to her, wiping the tears flowing freely down her face. “The Stars have given us another chance. I won’t waste it. Not again. This is my promise to you, Astraia Solenne: I will protect you from all the evils seen and unseen. I will be your anchor. From now until the Stars take me.”
Caelan raised his hands, placing them on either side of Astraia’s face as he declared his love. The heat warmed her as wet tears trickled down her cheeks.
She was so tired of fighting just to survive. Caelan was a constant, a harbor for her wandering spirit. He offered her sanctuary from the darkness.
Astraia felt his breath on her face as he came closer, tipping her head back, never letting his hands drop from her face. She did not balk at his advance. This was comfortable, familiar, home.
Soft lips grazed hers, and serenity passed through her, warming her bones and making her lighter. She let him kiss her deeply, a kiss of longing and devotion. For a moment, she lingered in the space between declaration and acceptance.
But she was tired of fighting—so she fell, letting him claim her entirely. Pressing into him, his kiss deepened as she relinquished her control, desperation taking over as years of longing came unbound.
Astraia brought her hands around Caelan’s neck, weaving her fingers into his dark hair, letting her resolve dissolve. His hands circled her waist, pulling her closer to him. The smell of eucalyptus encircled her as her body became flush with his. Their breathing matched, breaths quick and hungry as they embraced, each claiming the other for their own salvation.
So the lord and Starborne kissed under the false stars.
Chapter 25
The unbelievers do not accept the historical artifacts and texts, claiming a single Star could not cause such disruption of the Empyrean and subsequently, the realms. Yet, no other sources have been uncovered to dispute the actions of Dominion or his wraiths.
The Shattering: A history
ASTRAIA HAD TRULY NEVER BEEN kissed with such fervor, her lips swollen and hair disheveled by the time she retired to her stateroom. Caelan had accompanied her from the star tower, bidding her goodnight with another lingering kiss, running his fingers through her hair with unequivocal abandon of any decorum.
She woke the next morning with her heart and head at war. She could give Caelan part of her heart, but in doing so, she was painting a target on his back. It was folly to think they could hide her true identity forever, let alone her bonds. There would come a time when the truth would be brought to light, and it likely would only lead to death—hers and his.
Astraia cursed as she rose from the bed, head pounding from the wine, and glanced outside. It was still early morning hours, the sun not yet risen. Sleep had not been her friend in years. Itseemed fitting that she could not sleep even here, covered in silk sheets and imprints of a lord’s lips on her skin.
She needed to clear her head, focus on the here and now, and she knew the exact remedy for her muddled mind. As she strode across the room to where her small satchel of belongings still lay on a table, she caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of her eye. Her steps faltered as she glanced downward at her clothes. It washisshirt. She had worn his shirt to sleep last night.
Stars, how drunk had I been?
Impulsively, she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose, inhaling the fabric—pine and a hint of smoke. A twinge of regret and bitterness flickered in her thoughts. It was insulting to save her life so many times, offer his companionship and strength, then disappear. No matter his noble intentions of attempting to save her, she should have demanded he stay—fought harder to protect the flame that had only just begun to burn.
Astraia steeled herself, breathing deeply to calm her vexation. With one swift motion, she pulled the shirt over her head, gently folding it and stowing it deep within her satchel.
It only took a few moments to get dressed in her leathers and tunic. She strapped her dagger to her thigh, slinging her bow over her back with her quiver of arrows. Without a second glance, she marched out of the stateroom and made her way to the only place where bitterness and rage were welcomed with open arms.
