Iyana regarded him for a moment. “Done.”
Chapter 10
Emmeric
It was more difficult for Emmeric to leave than he’d expected. While he desperately wanted to return home to find Talon—hopefully the idiot was still alive and hadn’t been tried for treason—he found it increasingly more difficult to deny the pull he felt towards Iyana. Seeming to feel no such compunction, she was at least kind enough to point him toward the nearest village. There was another small township near the base of the mountain range separating Istora and Athusia. The Aula Pass would be accessible from there once he replenished his supplies. Imothia gave him what they could spare, which wasn’t much, but he was still grateful to them for the gesture. They easily could’ve decided to kill him instead.
Nighttime in the desert was the best for travel. He’d learned that the hard way while traveling with Zane. They had moved mostly during the day because Athusia was a much more mild climate. Unfortunately for everyone, they hadn’t learned their lesson during their trek from the mountains to Imothia. Much to his surprise, only one person had developed heat stroke. Although the man was allowed to ride in the supply wagon for the rest of the day, Emmeric didn’t envy him one bit. Not when he heard him vomiting profusely out the back.
While exhausted from being awake all night at Imo’s vigil, he didn’t want to waste a day sitting around in a place he clearly wasn’t welcome. Iyana obviously hated and distrusted him. Altair was indifferent towards him. And, to the village, he was an unpleasant reminder of the massacre that had occurred only two nights prior.
Despite all that, he may have stayed to rest if he was not desperate to see Talon. He would not sleep well until he laid eyes on his friend—alive. If Imo had seenhim aiding the villagers, then anyone else might have noticed. And if someone had informed Zane, Talon could be dead or in the dungeons. So, with a pack lighter than what was recommended for a journey through the desert, he left the relative safety of Imothia to venture home. He did not spare a goodbye for Iyana or Altair; he knew it would not be wanted or appreciated.
But as he left the enigmatic star and beautiful stranger behind, something tightly coiled within his chest told him he was making the wrong decision.
Iyana
As she outfitted Emmeric with the least amount of supplies she could get away with and not feel guilty about, Iyana thought about her magic. When Emmeric left, something akin to a rubber band stretched in her chest. It was unpleasant. Not only the sensation, but because she knew it attached her tohimand she wanted nothing to do with an Athusan, let alone one who had murdered a tribe member recently.
Even though she felt the inescapable bond within her—that magnetism Imo had told them of—the fact Emmeric was denying his involvement as the Kanaliza was fine with her. Iyana would cut the bond out of her chest herself if she found a way.
After Emmeric left, she sent Altair to Imo’s hut. It was not a place she wanted to go at the moment. Iyana’s worry was that she’d expect her grandmother to walk through the door at any moment, and her heart could not bear the idea that that would never happen again. So instead she lay on her cot, staring at the thatched roof, truly alone for the first time in over forty-eight hours—her mind blessedly silent without the stars whispering to her. Despite the exhaustion dragging at her body, her thoughts wouldn’t quiet enough to sleep. The gods had thrown an inordinate amount of information and excitement her way. More in the last two days than in the past twenty-plus years combined.
Stars were real, immortal beings. Strong, pure magic existed, and she possessed some. She had an annoying, unbreakable bond with an enemy who she begrudgingly found handsome and charming when he wanted to be. When Altair called her ‘my star,’ it made her skin tingle.
People in her village, people she’d known her entire life, were brutally murdered in the middle of the night. Her grandmother had died.
Her grandmother had lied to her.
This last revelation hurt the most. Understanding the reasoning did not lessen the sting of betrayal. Covering her face with her hands, Iyana inhaled deeply. She wanted to cry, but her body had run out of tears. The pain in her heart from the loss of her grandmother made her hollow. Mata Imo’s loss was too much—too much piled on top of an already shit sandwich. There was agreater gooddestiny she had been thrust into. Apparently, her entire life had been leading up to this moment. Did she possess free will at any point in her life? Was this always where things were heading, regardless of what she or Imo did?
The sweet scent of petrichor drifted over her. She hadn’t heard Altair enter, either because he was quiet on his feet or because she was lost in her thoughts. Probably both. Groaning, she dragged her hands down her face in defeat—her alone time shattered by his presence.
“What?” she snapped.
“I could hear you thinking from next door,” said Altair. “You should rest.”
“Wait—” Iyana sat up to look at him fully, craning her head up as he stood over her. His golden eyes sparked in the dark, firelight flickering over his face, casting one side in shadow. “Does that mean you’re in my head like the other stars were?”
Altair tilted his head slightly to the side, lips curving into a predatory smile. “Would you like me to be in your head?” His voice was like silk.
Fighting the shiver those words provoked, she said, “No, I’d rather my thoughts be my own.”
“Pity,” he said, smile still in place. “I’m sure you have plenty of fun thoughts.”
“Either sit or leave. I’m going to throw out my neck if you continue to stand.”
Now his predatory attention shifted into a hungry grin. Altair’s voice deepened. “But you look so good from thisangle, my star.”
Helpless to stop the flush coloring her face, she lowered her head to focus on anything other than Altair. Or the warm feeling spreading into her core. Chuckling, he sat next to her so his thigh pressed against hers, instantly warming her entire body.
“I am sorry to interrupt your alone time,” he said, his tone returning to normal. “But I sensed you were troubled and thought you might have difficulty finding sleep.”
Iyana sighed deeply, leaning into his shoulder and resting some of her burdens upon him. The fact she had just met this man—star—a day ago did not cross her mind. She was too physically and emotionally exhausted to care how close they became. “It’s…a lot. To process. If I think about it too much, I’m afraid I’ll panic, and I don’t want to fall into that spiral.”
Altair wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tucking her in tight to his side. “I understand. I’ve felt that way before.”
“You have?” she asked, settling into his embrace. His fingers drew idle circles on her skin. It did not seem possible for an immortal being to experience anxiety.
