Page 102 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

The adamantine shields keeping me out wavered, allowing me to sense some of the hurt and disappointment raging within him.

Because he thought I had given up on him when he had begun to use the power of Chaos, that I was repulsed by his true nature.

That I had judged him like the rest of our brethren.

“I am not afraid of your Darkness,” I whispered, his crushing anger making it difficult to draw breath.

“Liar!”

The power around me swelled in fury, the shadows coiling around me tightening, forcing my head back. Images rushed into my mind—every moment I had turned away from him, every doubt he had sensed in me.

“No.” I struggled to speak aloud against the onslaught, using my mind-voice instead. “I was never afraid of you. Only afraid for you.”

“But you should be afraid.” The shadows gentled their touch, teasing over my skin.

I knew the danger was not over yet, though; the Darkness was still oppressive, allowing in not the faintest flicker of light.

“Part of me is so tempted, little queen. To take all that you offer so recklessly, to break you open and devour your power until nothing is left of you. Until all of it is mine .”

His hunger roared through me, and I gasped.

“Imagine what I could do with the Flame,” he continued. “Imagine what I could be. The most powerful of all the Aurea. More powerful even than the Allfather.”

His mind slid against mine, his shadows, his entire presence surrounding me until I could feel nothing else. A terrible, dark force burning with insatiable desire, endless ambition, and furious rage.

“Do you understand now? Do you see what a monster I have become, what a monster I have always been?” he asked. And there, hidden deep within both Chaos and Darkness, I finally sensed a shimmer of true Light. Evil would not yearn for acceptance; it would not crave love.

To some he might be a horror, a monster capable of the most devastating destruction. But so was I. And I only saw him. I knew him.

“No judgment between us,” I offered, allowing a single spark of my Light to escape, illuminating the shadows but not penetrating them, an eternal dance that never ceased. My hand reached out, parting the Darkness. “Come back to me, Belekoroz.”

For a long, indecisive moment, the Darkness held its breath. Then it collapsed. Retracted into a swirling spiral of shadows that slowly solidified into a familiar form.

His eyes were the first thing I could make out, still burning with that untethered power.

His body followed, all pale, naked skin, gleaming with an inner fire, its powerful lines tense.

Belekoroz stared down at me, the two of us still floating in the shadows twisting around us, his expression hovering between aching hopefulness and disbelieving amusement.

Slowly the flames in his eyes quieted, as if he was bringing the power under control bit by bit.

“You will never cease to surprise me, will you, Baradaz?” he murmured, his lips tilting up in a hint of a smile that pierced through me with unrelenting force. I had not lost him. I had not lost him yet. “No judgment between us,” he said, his hand reaching for mine.

The moment we touched, we fell. His body crashed into mine as the Darkness dissolved, and only a swift surge of my power prevented our impact with the ground.

Belekoroz collapsed immediately, his weight so heavy he nearly pulled me down with him.

I kept a firm grasp on his arms and helped him lie down on the grass beneath us.

His fingers found my cheek, leaving an icy trail on my skin.

The smile he gave me was a little lopsided, his lashes fluttering.

“Oh, saeraery ,” he breathed out. “Brightest among all the stars in the sky.”

Saeraery , blood of my heart, my love. My mind barely had time to register the Aurean endearment before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell unconscious.

“Baradaz, what happened?” Quick footsteps behind me, and then the king knelt beside me. Aramaz’s blue eyes met mine, his brow knitted in deep worry. “Is he alright?” His gaze flicked over me. “Are you alright?”

“I guess I am,” I answered slowly, looking around us.

The same devastation we had left behind greeted me: the once green hills above Lyrheim now a ragged landscape of mud, rocks, and broken trees; the remains of the Kritak an ominous reminder of what had happened.

At least the battle had ceased, and no more of the creatures lurked around.

Stark relief coursed through me as I recognized Ashur and Namtaz in the distance, the Healer leaning against her fellow Aurea of Water. They must have been able to escape the mudslide and were now approaching Enlial, who was still guarding Khiraz, surely to heal her.

I frowned as I stared into the sky, deceptively blue and cloudless once more. “The tear in the Veil…”

“Closed the moment you stepped into the Darkness,” Aramaz answered.

My eyes snapped to him at the words, at what they meant. Belekoroz was the only one who could have closed that gate.

The king motioned at his brother. “Do you know what ails him?”

I touched my fingers to Belekoroz’s neck, catching the steady thrum of his pulse, the faint hum of magic coursing through him. “Just exhaustion. We should take him somewhere quiet where he can rest.”

Aramaz nodded. “We should bring him to our hall. The buildings in the center of the city have sustained the least damage.”

It was Sha’am who helped the king carry his brother into the hall, amid a lot of grumbling and complaints, of course.

I ignored his comments, barely sparing Tanez a swift embrace when she rushed to me as we passed the edges of the battlefield.

She and M’tar were gathering the uninjured Anima to help with the wounded and coordinate the cleanup.

My hand remained clasped around Belekoroz’s the entire way. I did not care what it might reveal to others. Part of me was in too much turmoil to let go, as if I feared that the moment I stopped touching him he might vanish, and this time be lost to me forever.

When Sha’am and Aramaz had laid him down on a bed in one of the guest rooms in the back of the hall and I had tugged a blanket around him, I sank into a chair beside the bed, my fingers still entwined with his.

I did not react when Sha’am left and even ignored the king’s gaze on me.

Silence descended in the room, only disturbed by Belekoroz’s soft breathing .

Aramaz sighed and stepped closer to the bed. “You know what this means,” he said, his voice low but holding a tense edge. “What kind of power he now wields.”

The power of the Abyss. As Enlial had warned us, and despite all our efforts to prevent it, Belekoroz had become the Adept of Chaos.

My fingers clenched around his cold ones, my gaze resolutely staying on his face. “He did it to save us,” I pressed out, knowing all too well it was not so simple.

“Did he?”

Aramaz’s sharp tone made me look at him, catching the ironic twist of his mouth.

So he had sensed it, too. It might have been the desire to protect us, to protect me, that had made Belekoroz step in front of the terrible force of the Abyss.

But it had been something else entirely that had prompted him to claim it as his own.

As dangerous as it was, he had wanted that power to be his.

Aramaz scrutinized me for a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable. “I wonder,” he finally said, “if he had not been able to control this power… would you have used the Flame to stop him?”

I stared at him in utter shock. Would I have destroyed Belekoroz like that monstrous Kritak? Would I have obliterated him with the Flame? It awakened inside me at the thought, simmering just below the surface of my skin. But not to destroy. The violent urge rising inside me only wanted to protect.

“He was able to control it,” I answered, not hiding the growl building up in my throat. “He reined it in.”

“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Aramaz said softly, surely noting the change in my tone, the sudden pressure of magic in the air. “For you.”

A knock on the door saved me from having to answer.

Aramaz’s herald, Tayshren, stepped into the room, back in his mortal form.

A few unhealed cuts and bruises were still visible on his body, I noted as he bowed, his amber eyes coldly sweeping over me and Belekoroz’s prone form before settling on Aramaz.

“My king.” His tone was carefully controlled, giving no hint of the brief flash of disapproval I had seen on his face. “You should come back outside. The mortals need reassurance.”

“Of course.” Aramaz nodded and moved to leave. He halted at the door, though, and looked at me, his mind brushing against mine, an odd sadness accompanying the touch. “I hope you are right, Baradaz. For all our sakes, I hope you are right, and he can control it.”

It took a long time after the king had left for the Flame to quiet once more, the wild, primal urge to shield Belekoroz from harm still raging within me.

I had remained seated beside him, a deep weariness permeating my very being.

I knew I should have gone to help in the aftermath of battle, that it was my duty.

Yet I could not bring myself to leave. My hand clasped his in an unbreakable grip, my gaze on his unmoving face.

He reined it in… For you.

Aramaz’s words echoed through me. For so many centuries I had wondered if what had been between Belekoroz and me was real, if he cared more for me than for his games and his ambition for power.

And he did. My eyes closed, my heart beating hard and fast. Stars above, he did.

Some time later, a faint twitch in Belekoroz’s fingers told me he was waking up even before his lashes fluttered. His eyes were unfocused as they darted around the room. Then he noticed my presence, and a slow smile lifted his lips .

I smiled back and did not protest when Belekoroz tugged me forward, all the emotions swirling within me—relief, worry, longing—making me forget why this was unwise. My hair cascaded down like a curtain of flames as I hovered above him, one of his hands reaching out to close around my nape.

“There you are, my queen,” he said, his voice a low murmur meant only for me.

I bridged the remaining distance between us with a small sob and kissed him. It wasn’t soft or tender, but a frantic, desperate meeting of hungry mouths, as if we both suddenly realized what had happened, how close we had come to losing each other.

“Baradaz—stars, Baradaz—”

I was nearly delirious with the sensation of him so close, a giggle bubbling up from my lips as he nipped along my jaw between broken-off whispers.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.”

One warm hand cupped my face and tilted it up to him.

His gaze was heartbreakingly tender as his thumb swiped over my cheek to the corner of my mouth.

I trembled beneath his touch, yearning for more.

Then his expression shifted. The warmth in my heart turned into the icy bite of dread as lightning flashed through his eyes.

Lightning the colors of amethyst and emerald, the colors of Chaos.

Belekoroz’s fingers tightened on my skin, his voice reduced to a growl, a possessive claim. “I am never letting you go again.”