Page 25 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

He stood in the doorway, still disheveled but looking better, color back in his cheeks, steady on his feet.

The most striking difference, however, was the expression in his eyes.

They were alert, watchful, always fixed on me, assessing my every move, noting every sign of weakness.

If I had let the glimpses of vulnerability when he was on the brink of death deceive me into thinking he was less dangerous without his powers, that misconception would have shattered then and there.

Things between us had shifted. Every moment we spent in the same room felt like treading on treacherous quicksand, one wrong move threatening to lead to disaster.

With both of us trapped in mortal forms, Noctis had the upper hand, being taller and physically stronger.

Unlike me, he had recovered well from his wound.

How nice of me to allow a deadly predator into my house and heal all its ailments to make it easier for it to devour me.

“I no longer go by that name. It is Rada now.” The words escaped me before I could contemplate what they would reveal.

His gaze roamed over me, every fiber of my being coming alive in sharp awareness.

I knew he saw everything: the paleness of my skin, the dark shadows beneath my eyes, my slouched posture.

The way I flinched every time my true name left his lips.

Instead of revealing how much he still affected me, I should have accepted the constant stabs into my heart.

Another mistake. I just could not win with him. And wasn’t that the story of my entire existence? One ill-advised decision leading to the next. Now, I faced yet another. If I refused Noctis’s oh-so-generous offer to help with the farm, my animals would suffer.

But if I accepted…

If I accepted, he would be everywhere. Constantly. Invading my life. I would prefer him to stay in his room—a room I could lock and throw away the key.

He had me cornered, and judging by the expectant gleam in his eyes as he approached the table, the bastard knew it.

At least I had hidden the Chaosdagger after the Chiasma’s attack.

A chill had run down my spine as I’d wrapped it in a thick cloth and carried it inside the house, placing it in a chest lined with unhallowed lyr -stone splinters that should keep its power from leaking out.

I was tempted to throw the cursed thing into the stream at the edge of my lands, letting the water carry it away.

But who could say which damned soul it would end up with?

Objects of power have a mind of their own.

Keeping it here was not without its risks, either.

Noctis’s bemused smile when I told him I had taken care of it warned me he would search for it at the first opportunity.

If it didn’t lead the rest of his followers here before that.

I knew I would have to deal with that threat at some point, but at the moment, it was more important to heal my wrist.

“Rada. Of course.” Another vexing smile was on Noctis’s face as he sat down opposite me. “I’ve been wondering about that. How is it that no one has recognized you? We are in the middle of nowhere, but people here prayed to you in the past, didn’t they?”

“Aramaz asked Enlial to weave a spell to hide my identity. Only those who were close to me can remember my face.” I kept my voice even, showing no emotion.

“Ah.” A glimmer in his gaze. “My brother. Always thinking of everything.”

Much to my surprise, Noctis did not launch into another frustratingly reasonable speech about why I should accept his help. He only continued to look at me with polite curiosity.

“Where do you keep your parchment and quill?”

“First cupboard on the left, next to the stove,” I answered, not really caring what he wanted with those.

He would hardly weave his dark magic through handwritten letters.

I watched absentmindedly as he stood up, retrieved the items, and returned to the table.

He drew four lines on the paper, carefully labeling them with the distinct, sharp strokes of Aurean script.

Even upside down, I could read our names over the last two columns.

“What chores do you have to do every day on the farm? And which ones are the most urgent?” he asked.

Too exhausted to resist any longer, I answered without hesitation, and he dutifully noted everything down, categorizing each task and assigning them between us.

Should I hate or admire his efficient competence?

Hate, definitely hate. It should not have surprised me.

Noctis had once ruled over a vast realm that spanned across more than half of Aron-Lyr.

He must have learned some things during that time.

When he had filled all the columns with his sprawling handwriting, I realized he was no longer asking for my permission to help. He was just razing every opposition to the ground like the cities he had conquered. And I was yielding. Typical.

But then, what choice did I have?

It would only be for a tenday or two, I told myself. The moment my wrist was better, I would tell him to leave. And all the problems invading my life would vanish with him.

“So those araks don’t end up as tasty steaks?” Noctis asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at me. “I have to admit, I was curious.”

“ What? ” I glared at him in outrage. I would never send one of my beauties to the butcher. “Of course not. They are milk araks.” Noticing Noctis’s blank stare, I explained, “I make cheese from their milk.”

“Ah, arak cheese.” He smiled. “It’s considered a delicacy, right? I’ve had it a few times.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “Your armies were always skilled at confiscating the finest goods. Which conquest were you celebrating when you ate it?”

Noctis’s eyes narrowed, but he did not retaliate.

I suspected playing this amenable, almost domesticated version of himself cost him.

He probably thought he owed it to me for saving his life.

But this wasn’t his true nature. He hadn’t crossed the boundaries between us since healing me, yet I wasn’t foolish enough to consider him harmless or tame.

“Why araks?” His pleasant tone couldn’t hide the sharpness of his gaze. He knew I was keeping secrets. I had no intention of making it easy for him to uncover them.

I matched his tone. “Chance, really. I went to the Great Market in Rasga to buy seedlings for my vegetable garden and a dozen chickens. But there they were.” My gaze drifted to the kitchen window as I recalled the time nearly ten years ago.

“Their owner had died, leaving them in a sorry state. Nobody wanted them, so I thought, why not?” A derisive sound escaped me.

“The cattle trader thought I had lost my mind. Araks are notoriously stubborn.”

“He certainly didn’t know you.” The affectionate expression on Noctis’s face looked infuriatingly like pride. It ignited a strange warmth inside me that was harder to ignore than I would have liked. “There is probably nothing you can’t do when you set your mind to it.”

He was good at this, wasn’t he? Making someone feel as if they had his complete attention, as if he valued their opinions and deeds.

It was no coincidence that he had managed to persuade so many Anima serving other Aurea to join his cause during his initial rebellion, and then again after Yggdrasil’s fall.

He had an innate ability to sense people’s dissatisfaction and offer them exactly what they craved.

Zamani had always mockingly said it was because he had never been content in his entire existence, always desiring most what he could not have.

The power to create without limits. Dominion over Aron-Lyr. Me. Two out of three were forever out of his reach. Was he delusional enough to think he could win me back? Was I stubborn enough to ensure that did not happen?

His next question interrupted my thoughts. “Why Lasgallen?”

“Lasgallen suffered heavily during the war. It has always been Aron-Lyr’s most fertile realm, supplying the others with food, so the queen started a repopulation program.

The prices for the land were very affordable.

” I shrugged. “The weather patterns are chaotic since Yggdrasil’s destruction, but I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. ”

Mentioning one of our most devastating memories caught Noctis off guard, and it showed in his eyes. I wouldn’t be so bold as to interpret his silence as guilt, though.

“And it’s beautiful,” I added wistfully. Lasgallen was scarred, but not broken. How could I not love that?

“It is also in the middle of nowhere,” Noctis said, his dark eyes seeing entirely too much. “And very lonely.”

“I don’t mind being alone.” My lie didn’t even sound convincing to my own ears.

Tired of the discussion, I stood up, ignoring the ache in every part of my body.

“Come. If you are staying a while longer to help me, I will have to show you where everything is.”