A loud crack of thunder made Astraia jump, breaking their trance. Her lips fell away from his, and he chuckled, placing his forehead against hers and breathing hard.
Her cloak rustled around her feet as she grounded herself, letting the world around her stop spinning and her legs quit shaking. It took longer for her mind to formulate normal thought, words and rationale still beyond reach.
Draven’s hand grasped hers, and he brought it to his lips, pressing a faint kiss to her pale skin. The warmth of his lips zapped her strength, and her cheeks flushed at the simple claiming mark—she was his, and he was hers.
He did not drop her hand as he led her toward the horses, wrapping his calloused fingers around her cold ones. The distant rumble of thunder snapped her back to her surroundings, and she noticed the rain had stopped. Only the soft patter of lingering raindrops was what remained of the heated storm of wordless desire.
Stopping in front of Orion, he kissed her once more, steam rising from the intermingling of their breaths. Before they became entangled again, Astraia withdrew, smiling at him. He smirked back at her, and for once, she did not feel like slapping the look off his face.
Together they mounted their horses and made their way through the last small piece of the Virellian forest before they found the dirt road that led to Altair. The sun was low in the sky, but thankfully this final stretch of their day’s journey was less than a league.
Astraia rode next to Draven along the road, stealing glances every few seconds. Either she was not very subtle, or he never took his eyes off her because his amber stare met hers every time her gaze wandered in his direction.
Probably the latter,she thought.
As much as she wished this day would stretch on forever, the idea of a warm shower and a comfortable bed sounded like heaven to her. That, and the fact that a certain hunter would be with her. The promise of never facing another day withouthim sounded like a childish girl’s wish, but she clung to it like the air she breathed. Now that her walls had crumbled and he consumed her thoughts, allowing hope to flourish in her soul, she had never felt so alive.
A fleeting memory of Elion flashed before her mind, and she wondered what he would think of Draven. Maybe he would scold her for being so reckless. But likely he would smile, his green eyes twinkling as he looked at her, and wish her all the happiness in the world. That if Draven cared for her and kept her safe, that was all a brother could hope for.
She swallowed a lump in her throat, blinking back tears at the thought of her brother seeing her happy. Her joy was his reward. It was a symbol that a cruel, fallen world had not claimed them both—that death had not won.
Astraia looked over at Draven and smiled, watching him ride beside her. The sun’s setting rays behind him cast a golden glow around his silhouette, making him appear angelic. Fitting, as his eyes echoed the sunbeams.
Just ahead, Altair came into view. Townspeople and travelers still rambled through the streets, closing shops and exchanging pleasantries. They passed by the first shop, and her gaze drifted to the dilapidated temple at the center of the town. No Shardborne were visible, but the memory of the people shouting in unison at the man’s words still replayed in her mind. As did the fearsome woman who had threatened them.
They turned the corner and made for the same inn from the previous night. Astraia slid from Orion’s saddle and adjusted her bow and quiver. She handed the reins to the same stable boy, flashing him a smile. The boy grinned sheepishly and took both of their horses.
Draven walked next to her, his hand grazing the back of hers, making her stomach flip.
As they walked out of the stables, her bonds blasted to life, filling her arms in seconds. She broke out in a cold sweat, the hair on her arms standing on end.
Something was wrong.
“Halt!” a loud voice shouted down the street behind them.
Astraia stopped mid-step, bonds screaming for release.
Draven grabbed her hand, squeezing, then cast her a sideways glance. He shook his head slowly, a wordless command to stifle her bonds.
“Turn around!” the man boomed, his voice closer to them.
Draven dropped her hand, and they both turned.
Standing in the square, in front of the old celestial temple, were twenty Celestial Guards, their crossbows aimed at them both.
One man stood at the center of the regiment. His head was shaved, and he held a sword with a golden hilt drawn at his side. His silver armor glistened in the fading sunlight, and a red cloak billowed behind him. Astraia recognized his red cloak as a symbol of a captain.
Glaring at them, his lips curled into a vicious smile. “We have been looking for you,Starborne.”
Chapter 38
Despite the destruction of the Celestial War and Shattering, the provinces survived. Some, like Tenebris and the Hollow City. suffered far greater. Even now, their people still suffer with poverty, disease, poor living conditions, and untold disparities.
A People’s History of Astradeon
THE CAPTAIN’S GAZE BORE INTO Astraia’s as he spoke to her, his words like ice in her veins.
“You can come quietly, or you can go painfully. Your choice.” He spoke plainly, his command reverberating against the stone archway of the temple and bouncing off the town buildings.
