Page 4 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

Holding Noctis down was nearly impossible.

His eyes were unseeing as he struggled against me, his teeth bared in an anguished snarl.

Somehow, I subdued him enough to continue my treatment.

Every touch of the cloth drenched with disinfectant salve elicited muffled moans.

He squirmed against the mattress like a child, his dark-lashed eyelids pressed shut against the pain.

I forced myself to be thorough, not wanting any trace of the infection to remain.

After I had used the healing stone, frowning when the cut only closed partially, I re-bandaged the wound.

Thankfully, Noctis had slipped back into unconsciousness.

An exhausted shiver went through me, my entire body drenched in cold sweat. My gaze caught on a drop of blood on his lower lip, where he must have bitten himself; I gently wiped it away with my thumb, a familiar warmth stirring within me at the feel of his soft flesh yielding under my touch.

Suddenly aware of what I was doing, I jerked my hand back and scoffed, my movements becoming sharp and efficient as I packed up my remaining supplies.

I had to kill every trace of that cursed compassion welling up inside me.

Noctis would only use it against me the moment he caught the slightest whiff of it. Like he always had.

I should not care. I did not care.

Taking a deep, calming breath, I pulled the lone chair in the room closer to the bed and settled into it, resigned to watch over him for the rest of the night.

A soft groan woke me, my exhaustion finally having caught up with me.

I rolled my head from side to side, trying to loosen the awful crick in my neck from the uncomfortable position I had been resting in, then glanced over at my unwelcome patient.

To my surprise, a pair of remarkably clear black eyes met mine.

“Baradaz? Is it really you?” The striking lines of Noctis’s face twisted with an emotion I couldn’t name as he stared at me. “Or is this just a dream?”

The gods do not dream, they said. Their dreams become reality.

But perhaps that did not apply to fallen gods.

“Yes, it’s me.”

The way his lips curved into something resembling a smile at my answer pierced through me like a knife.

“It’s alright,” I added, my voice no more than a whisper in the small space between us. “You are safe here. With me.”

“Good.” As his hand reached for mine, I moved instinctively, intertwining my fingers with his. His touch was warm and solid against my skin.

“Your injuries are severe,” I said softly. “I’m doing my best, but—”

A spark ignited in the midnight depths of his gaze.

“Oh,” he said, a hoarse laugh escaping him, brimming with disbelief.

“Are you trying to save me, my foolish little queen?” His fingers tightened around mine with surprising strength as he struggled to sit up.

Something cruel and mocking had awakened in his tone, something I knew only too well.

“Kindness toward the dark. I always told you to be careful where it might lead you.”

The painful but inevitable reminder of who I was dealing with made me yank my hand from his grasp.

I should have been more sensible, should have kept every touch as brief as possible.

But lyr , I had never been sensible when it came to him.

A reckless fool I had been, thinking I could best him at his own games.

Only for both of us to lose. I hoped I was wiser now.

“I can see where your choices have led you,” I snapped, rising from my chair. Towering over him, I let my next words sink in. “You are entirely at my mercy.”

Noctis’s eyes flashed with anger at my provocation. For a moment, I thought he might argue with me. But then his face twisted in agony, a groan escaping him as he clutched his chest.

Curse it, fresh blood was seeping through the bandages. He had already lost so much. And there was barely any power left in the healing stone. His eyes fluttered shut as he collapsed back onto the pillow.

“Is it really too much to ask that you let me die in peace?” he murmured, as if his impending death did not matter to him.

I stared down at him in mounting frustration, my fingers twitching with the desire to shake him. How was he always capable of bringing forth my more vicious tendencies with a few well-aimed barbs ?

Ah, yes, because he was the most vexing creature in all the Allfather’s creation.

“Don’t play games with me,” I forced out after a few agitated breaths. “You didn’t come here to die. If that was your goal, you could have given up a thousand times on the way.”

Those fathomless eyes opened once more, their relentless pull dragging me in as he answered with a disconcertingly wistful smile playing on his lips, not impressed by my anger at all. “I just wanted to see you one last time, Baradaz.”

Before I could tell the exasperating man I did not believe that for a moment, I refused to, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he conveniently passed out again.

A growl built up in my throat, longing to break free. Of course he would do this. Of course he would show up half-dead just when I thought I was getting over it all. Over the war. Over losing everything. Over him.

And now he lay there, all helpless and vulnerable, whispering soft words that chipped away at the impenetrable walls I had built up so painstakingly over fucking years , making them crumble as though they had never existed.

I held his life in my hands. The weight of it was almost unbearable.

It would be just like him to die on me now, leaving my world in ruins. I had found peace, only for Noctis, the Destroyer, the Fallen One, to throw my entire being into turmoil once more.

My lips twisted in anger. Well, we couldn’t all help our nature, could we?

He excelled in creating unrest and transforming order into chaos—a challenge I had never failed to meet.

I would be damned before I let him escape so easily this time.

He owed me a few explanations, and I planned to get them from him.

I stormed into the main room of the farmhouse. Stitching him up was definitely beyond me, but… An idea whispered through my mind. I would be a sorry excuse for a farmer if I did not have a way to treat the minor injuries my araks tended to collect.

In my early days on the farm, Ulyss Underforge had handed me a twelve-inch iron rod, along with plenty of well-intentioned advice.

At the time, I had shuddered at the mere thought of cauterizing my araks’ wounds with heated metal, unwilling to subject them to such pain.

But I soon learned there were no alternatives.

When the araks roamed the grassy hills in summer, failing to seal an injury against dirt and infection was an unacceptable risk.

I ignored Bane’s questioning meow as I retrieved a small lyrin -stone from a shelf near the front door.

A simple command activated the light spell it contained.

Stepping outside, I kept my warm wool coat clutched close.

The wind was as icy as I had feared and the few feet to the barn’s entrance were enough to drench me in rainwater.

I knew I was lucky, though. The storm might have had unnatural causes, but I could detect no hint of Chaos magic in the air any longer, the growls of thunder growing farther apart.

The araks moaned in agitation, throwing their big, horned heads around as I entered. They did not calm down when I raised the hand with the light in it and talked to them in a low voice, making me realize that what bothered them was the lingering scent of Noctis’s blood on me.

Twice the size of a horse, with shaggy fur covering their massive four-legged bodies, araks served as sturdy beasts of burden, and were valued for their nourishing bluish milk and their meat.

I stepped over to Alma, the matriarch of the herd.

She leaned her head out of the stall, sniffing at me, her big, brown eyes full of concern.

“Shh,” I murmured, scratching behind one of her fluffy ears where a large, curved horn jutted out. The thick, dark fur was soft and warm beneath my fingers. “Everything is alright.”

At least, I hoped it would be. As my animals calmed, I rested my head against Alma for a few moments, breathing in her comforting musk. A sigh escaped me.

“Maker,” I said, “give me strength.” Not that the Allfather was likely to approve of my actions.

He had created the Aurea to be obedient and dutiful.

Clearly, he had failed with Noctis—and with me.

A painful truth it had taken me centuries to accept.

Nowadays, the realization of where my choices had led me only stirred the faintest hint of regret.

The single advantage of having fallen as far as I had.

Even if I wished to, I could not change the past; I had to live with it.

Alma’s eyes held a humbling amount of reassurance as she nuzzled my hand when I moved away.

Her silent support fortified me as I entered the small storage room at the end of the building and lifted the metal rod from its resting place.

Its weight was heavy in my hands as I stepped back into the house.

Blessed lyr , was I really contemplating using this on Noctis?

Dismissing any unwelcome inklings of pity, I stirred the dwindling embers in the hearth, reigniting the fire.

Sparks flew up as I thrust the iron rod deep into the flames.

My previous experience made me careful, so I retrieved two leather belts before returning to my bedroom.

It felt disturbingly like a violation as I bound Noctis’s wrists to the bedposts.

Thank the stars, they were quite sturdy.

“No!”

I had barely finished when Noctis tensed, panic flashing over his face as he fought against the restraints. Curse it! I had hoped he would remain unconscious.