That’s the thing about rage—it’s ravenous. It doesn’t still and lie down silently when you can’t express it. No—when you’re forced to hide that rage, it just turns its focus inward…and begins devouring.
Pieces were lost, eaten away; just little bits here and there. It started with hope, and it ended with happiness—dreams were the only thing left in the end. For some, dreams might have been the first to go, but not me. I held strong to my dreams and refused to let them go, even when the hope was gone that they’d ever amount to anything, I had gripped them tight and shoved them down into my soul for safekeeping.
This reprieve, this focusing of my rage—it let it simmer silently for the first time in my life. While hope, happiness, and joy, along with every other good thing I’d forgotten how to feel, somehow regrew in the spots where they had withered, my rage didn’t turn on them again.
Everything was different now. This land—I could feel the resonance of it, how the magic practically jumped up and begged to be used, how the magic of night lingered all day, sending out its tendrils across the kingdom. And that magic made me feel more at home, more peaceful, than I had ever been.
Sunrise had never felt like home, nor Dusk.
But here, with a land of balanced magic, a king who cares for all peoples, and a group of people to laugh and have fun with—my rage allowed itself to be pushed aside. It didn’t eat away at me now, sated and sleeping like a cat curled up in the sunshine.
Rage was ravenous though, and it still hungered—only I was no longer its target. Not when it was now allowed to look to those who’d been forbidden to it before: those Fae who ownedhumans, who used them, whipped them, locked them up, or tortured them—those who planned to butcher humans to make weapons. Fae like Cyrus, who would use forbidden magic that would not only have devastating consequences for humans, but for all of Celesterra.
The fate of our world was at stake. Our continent was crumbling, even as outside luxury pervaded it. It was a smokescreen. Without the magic, without balance, everything was lost.
Cyrus had taken too much of me, he would not take all of this too.
My rage noted all of this, calculated the risks and benefits—and it hungered. Cyrus once promised me ruination at his hands, I planned to repay him in kind. I would bring such darkness down on him, that my rage would blot out the sky with it.
As Calix and I redressed, I looked back wistfully at the stars falling behind me—what I wouldn’t give to see this all the time. I would have to make plenty of trips in the future. Once dressed, we mounted up and made our way back to the palace. Part way there, Calix turned in his saddle to face me.
“Thank you, my réalta.” He spoke quietly, like he was afraid to talk to me after what had just passed between us.
“What does that mean, réalta?” I pressed him, curiosity too much to bear. I’d never been given a nickname before, and every time he said it, a warmth rushed through me.
Calix smirked slightly, looking back at Nova Falls, before his eyes caught mine once more, and like the fire that lived inside him had arisen, those eyes heated into liquid pools.
“It means star in the ancient Fae language.” Just like that, he stole all the breath in my lungs.My star. He did say I reminded him of a star before, and with my name—but he didn’t call meastar, no, he called mehisstar.
I swallowed hard, and after a few minutes of riding, where I tried to get my emotions regarding this king of darkness and fire under control, I looked over at him.
“What’s the word for darkness in the ancient Fae language?”
Calix looked at me, bemused, a smile twitching on his lips. “Dorchadas.”
“My dorchadas.” I smiled widely at him, and Calix, to my eternal shock, blushed. Those angular cheekbones dotted with red as he looked down, but I didn’t miss the small smile he tried to hide.
I smirked, pleased to have made him feel even a smidgeon of what him calling me his star made me feel.
Two could indeed play that game.
Chapter 29
“
A
gain!”Titan barked once again, and I huffed, out of breath as sweat dripped off me. I looked to Harpina for a reprieve, but she just smirked at me, her amber eyes alight with glee as she watched me dying. Okay, dying might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the two of them were running me ragged.
I’d been training every morning, without fail, for weeks. Since going to Nova Falls, Calix and I had been skirting around one another, both of us had opened up to one another, and we’d both felt the distinct shift between us—from lust to something deeper. But we had to keep our hands off one another, so distance it was. In the wake of that, I’d spent a lot of time with the others.
Titan and Harpina covered my training in the mornings, Lilith covered my horseback riding in the early afternoon, and Ilta covered history with me after that, teaching me about all of the kingdoms and their histories, politics and battles. She wasinsistent that having this knowledge would be necessary long term. Then there were the times I met with Callisto, and we’d go over plots and plans for the Resistance, planning our next moves. I never felt more accomplished than I did after one of those meetings.
“Again. Once more, Asteria.” Titan shouted gruffly, I looked up at Titan, begging him for mercy with my eyes, but sighed heavily when none was forthcoming—then chastised myself for wasting all that precious air. I followed his direction, slicing my sword through the air until it hit my opponent’s sword. Eryx grinned back at me, my opponent for today. They switched it up often, so I wouldn’t get used to just one style of combat.
I thought it was nuts at first, but I had to admit I could see how rotating had benefited me. I didn’t grow complacent, expecting the same moves or speed each time, it kept me on my toes, and kept me moving. Considering I was slower and weaker than those I would be fighting, that was essential for my survival.
Swords clashed, Eryx clearly not putting his all into it. I grit my teeth in anger, hating my deficiency. I swung harder, faster, chasing his blade as he brought it up a fraction slower than mine. It was enough. My blade caught his and it flew out of his hand. Eryx’s eyes widened in surprise as I brought my blade to his neck, panting, but with a smile on my face as I heard clapping and whooping in the background. A slow smile spread across Eryx’s face, and as I brought the sword down, he bowed with a flourish.
