Page 23 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

CHAPTER

Rada

L eaning on each other, Noctis and I entered the house, followed by Bane, shaking the rainwater from his fur. I gritted my teeth at the sharp pain that pounded through my wrist.

“You own a healing stone, don’t you?” Noctis said, helping me into a chair at the dining table. “We need to use it on your hand. I fear it might be sprained or broken.”

He stubbornly refused to rest before he had examined my injury. With a weary sigh, I nestled into the blanket he had retrieved, savoring the comforting warmth that gradually banished the chill of my damp clothes.

I handed him the worn-out Fire stone. “You can put that one back,” I told him, then quickly explained where I kept my lyr -stones. Despite my reluctance to reveal all my secrets, I knew there was no point in withholding this information.

Noctis draped a second blanket over his shoulders and headed to the kitchen to retrieve the lyr -stone. Frustration welled up inside me as he returned and carefully placed it on my throbbing wrist. I didn’t need the ominous hum of the healing stone to tell me this was bad.

Maker, how would I manage if the stone wasn’t powerful enough to heal me? My animals, the farm… They needed me. Not to mention the risk that Vultaron had not been the last of Noctis’s former followers coming after him.

“Can you use it to heal yourself?” Noctis asked, his eyes meeting mine as he sat down. His gaze was filled with compassion. And worry. I resolutely ignored both.

“Healing yourself is inefficient; the necessary patterns are too delicate to weave when you’re in pain.

” I took a deep breath. “Besides, the stone can only mend minor injuries. I might be able to speed up my recovery, but it will still take a few tendays before I can fully use my hand again.” Tears stung my eyes.

Saying it out loud made it feel even worse.

“Is there a healer nearby who could help you?”

I shook my head. “The nearest healer is in Dalath. It takes a two-hour ride to get there.” I rubbed my temple, fighting another wave of nausea. “But Kyree will realize I am not Human if he heals me, so that’s not an option.”

“Fine,” Noctis said, reaching for the healing stone. “Then I’ll try.”

“Your healing skills are terrible,” I answered, coughing as bile rose in my throat. Curse it, if I was feeling this ill, my wrist was probably broken and…

My abdomen convulsed, and I retched, throwing up all over the floor.

The following moments passed in a blur, wave after wave of nausea making me bend over and vomit repeatedly until my body thankfully decided my stomach was empty.

Someone gently held my hair away and rubbed circles on my back.

When it was finally over, I could only close my eyes and rest my head on the table, utterly exhausted.

Would this all disappear if I ignored it long enough?

The sound of water splashing and the sharp scent of vinegar pulled me out of my misery.

I realized that Noctis had moved away from me some time ago.

Disbelief washed over me as I opened one eye to find him kneeling on the floor next to a bucket filled with water, a rag in his hands, cleaning up the mess I had made.

“Maker! Let me do that,” I exclaimed, attempting to rise.

“Don’t you dare move from that chair, Baradaz,” he ordered, giving me a fierce look. “I’ve got this.” A wry smile lifted his lips as he wrung out the rag and resumed scrubbing. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to clean up vomit. I’ll survive.”

“Isn’t it?” I asked, resting my head on my arms, torn between gratitude and embarrassment.

Noctis carried the bucket into the kitchen to empty it and wash his hands, a twinkle in his eyes as he returned to the table with a glass of water and a clean cloth.

His amusement was quite astonishing, given the situation.

I murmured a quiet thanks, greedily gulped down the water, and wiped my face.

“I had quite the learning curve regarding the susceptibility of mortals to alcohol after becoming Human,” Noctis remarked, settling into the chair opposite me. “Now,” he said, gently reaching for my injured wrist. “That wrist is broken.”

“I know,” I said, letting my head fall back onto the table.

“You need some healing magic.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“I know,” I told the fascinating swirls and patterns on the wooden surface in front of me.

“There is a way to weave that healing spell,” Noctis said, his voice vexingly gentle, as if I were a frightened animal he was trying to soothe .

“I am not letting you into my mind,” I snapped, glaring at him. Regret washed over me as soon as I saw the overly understanding expression on his face.

“Of course not,” he replied, lightly trailing his fingers over my skin. “It would be no more than a shallow touch.” Why was I even allowing him to hold my hand? His intense dark eyes remained fixed on my face, their openness unsettling. “I swear, I won’t go anywhere I’m not welcome.”

“No!” I could hear the desperation in my voice.

“Baradaz, that wrist has to be healed.”

Just because he was right didn’t mean I had to be gracious about it.

“Fine,” I growled, daring him to revel in my reluctant surrender. “But if you step even one inch out of line—”

“I keep my promises, little queen. And my oaths.” Noctis’s expression hardened, though his touch remained careful as he moved the stone over my injury. “You should know that by now.”

Yes, I knew that. I knew it all too well.

He allowed me to activate the stone’s magic, rightfully assuming I would prefer it that way.

A blue glow illuminated the space between us as the healing stone came to life, pulsing with a comforting warmth against my skin.

Somehow, the warmth of Noctis’s hand on mine was even more soothing. Curse my foolish weakness.

Silver and black met and held, a tense silence between us.

“You have to let me in at some point,” Noctis finally said.

I swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at me to jump up and flee or to slap his hand away—to do something —as I felt a tendril of magic brush against both my wrist and my mind.

Struggling to relax, I closed my eyes, the sensation of someone breaching even the outermost layers of my thoughts making me tense up.

“I am not going to hurt you.” I couldn’t tell if his voice echoed in my mind or if he spoke aloud. A lie. Perhaps he even believed it himself.

I could sense him. With every beat of the lyr -stone in our joined hands, his presence washed over me, making me acutely aware of his nearness.

Everything else fell away. Gradually, our breaths aligned, and soon our heartbeats followed as thin tendrils of magic created a glowing connection between us.

In the past, the desire to share my mind with him had consumed me, a primal longing for the deepest form of intimacy known to our kind.

I had felt every emotion, every sensation he experienced as vividly as my own.

Now, the mere idea of allowing him behind my defenses sent a chill down my spine, my shields strong and impenetrable.

“Can you show me the pattern?” Noctis asked, the touch of his mind conveying patience. I carefully envisioned the healing spell he needed to weave and pushed it to him, ensuring none of my turbulent emotions escaped.

A wave of deep concentration washed over me as Noctis attempted to replicate what I had shared. A pained sound escaped me as tendrils of Water magic sank into my injured wrist.

Concern flowed through our bond. “I’m doing it wrong,” Noctis said, frustration evident in his tone.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “The healing stone’s power is limited. I didn’t add any strands of Air to numb the pain, because we need all its power to mend the broken bone.”

Noctis was silent for a moment, the touch of Water magic returning, the sharp sting causing me to grit my teeth. “I see it now,” he said. “The bones are fractured in multiple places. I’m not sure how to realign them correctly. Maybe you should take a look.”

Without warning, he lowered his shields, and I gasped as he allowed me into his thoughts.

He was far less careful than I had been.

The sensation was overwhelming, like being plunged into a stormy sea.

His emotions were a chaotic whirlwind, crashing over me in waves.

I could feel the heat of his concentration, the sharp edges of his worry, and the cold undercurrent of his fear.

Abruptly, he regained control, pulling me back to the surface. “Forgive me,” he murmured, focusing on the healing spell once more. “It’s been a while.”

Fighting my tumultuous feelings, I showed him how to manipulate the Water magic to realign and then mend the bones.

I kept my eyes tightly shut while he worked, biting my lip, adamant not to let even a hint of the excruciating pain escape.

All too soon, the Water stone dimmed, forcing Noctis to stop.

“It’s alright,” I said, my voice hoarse. “The stone can only do so much. Some things have to heal on their own.”

“I’ll bandage it so you don’t disturb it too much,” Noctis replied, releasing my hand.

I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but my curiosity was too strong.

I reached out one last time as the magic between us faded.

In that unguarded moment, I caught a glimpse into his mind, feeling what he felt, seeing what he saw.

My face. Pale and tense, framed by wisps of hair that had escaped my braid.

And still, in his eyes, so achingly beautiful that it nearly killed him not to reach out and touch me.

Startled, my eyes shot open as a rush of tender longing surged through my mind. I was momentarily bewildered by the sight of the silver depths staring back at me. Then the connection broke. My vision adjusted and I found Noctis scrutinizing me, his lip twisting.

“Are you getting curious, my little queen? One should ask before reading other people’s thoughts.”