Page 5 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

“Hush.” My gentle touch on his arm did nothing to calm him. “I’m sorry, but I have to make sure you can’t move.” I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue. “The wound won’t stop bleeding. I have to cauterize it.”

Noctis ceased struggling and closed his eyes, making me wonder if he had understood me. A deep breath lifted his chest, bitterness in his gaze as he looked at me again. “Don’t want to waste any magic on the likes of me?”

What? For a moment, I stared at him in incomprehension before realizing what his words meant.

He did not know. He was aware of my banishment, or else he wouldn’t have sought me out. But he had no knowledge of the depths of my fall, of the fact that I was as mortal as he.

I would be a fool to tell him how weak and helpless I had become without knowing why he had come here and what had happened to him.

“No, of course not,” I said, opting for a half-truth. “But setting free a larger amount of Aurean magic could garner unwanted attention.”

Anger flickered in those dark eyes. “Curse my brother. Doesn’t he even let you use your powers?”

I chose not to comment on his assumptions. He sighed.

“Get another one of those,” he croaked out with a jerk of his head toward one of his bound wrists. “Otherwise I might bite my tongue.”

I did as he suggested. While I didn’t have an extra belt, I stored fabric and material scraps in a drawer in my main room for repairing purposes.

The strip of sturdy leather I found in there, left over from mending my boots, should suffice.

Noticing the fiery red glow at the tip of the metal rod, I cautiously picked it up and carried it to my bedroom.

I avoided Noctis’s eyes as I offered him the leather to bite on.

This was all too much. Too close, too intimate.

My hand tightened around the iron, which looked ominously like a cruel instrument of torture. Before I could decide how to proceed, Noctis spat the leather piece from his mouth .

“Do you have anything to numb the pain?” he asked, his jaw clenching as his gaze shifted to the glowing rod.

He shook his head when I reached for the healing stone.

“Mortal magic is worth shit.” The amount of derisive condescension in his voice was impressive, given he had to breathe in deeply a few times to get the words out.

“Don’t you have any spirits in the house? Something strong, preferably.”

“A Brownie moonshine,” I said, already moving to fetch the home-brewed cherry liquor Dolores Underforge had gifted me last summer.

Noctis took a large gulp of the vile concoction as I held the bottle to his lips, a rough curse escaping him between coughs. I permitted him two more mouthfuls before putting the bottle away and returning the leather to his lips. It wouldn’t help anyone if he vomited all over my bed.

I didn’t ask if he was ready. Honestly, how could anyone ever be ready for something like this? Instead, I acted swiftly. I knew that if I tried to steel myself, if I hesitated for even a moment, I would lose my nerve and never go through with it.

The sizzling noise as the heated metal touched the wound made me shudder, the smell of burnt flesh turning my stomach with its sickeningly sweet intensity.

And then Noctis screamed. A sound of such agony that it ripped through the air, echoing endlessly, even around the leather piece between his teeth, drowning out the storm outside.

I had only heard him scream like this once before, when the Ten had joined their magic to punish him, our power tearing through him relentlessly, leaving only ashes in its wake.

His restraints held, but barely, the leather groaning as he thrashed against them, trying in vain to escape the excruciating pain.

Afterward, I was unsure how I had managed it.

How I had forced myself to cover the entire wound, keeping the heated metal pressed against his skin long enough for it to work.

Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I had thought I wanted to see Noctis suffer.

To make him endure a fraction of the agony he had caused me.

To see him brought to justice. But like on that terrible day in the Temple of Order, my righteous anger faltered at the sight of his pain.

It seemed almost barbaric—as if his last trick had been to turn the tables and reveal us as the true monsters after all. As if it made me a monster now.

I had told myself I would stay aloof. Would not care. Would treat his wounds, save his life if possible. Nothing more. But how could I not ache at seeing him like this? How could I not care when his screams died down, replaced by hoarse sobs, his face buried into my pillow?

I had always failed at hardening my heart. Especially where he was concerned.

After putting away the iron rod with something close to disgust, I gently loosened the restraints around Noctis’s wrists and removed the leather he had bitten on. My hands were tender, almost a caress. I didn’t resist the impulse to lean my head against his, to take his hand.

“Please, Baradaz,” he whispered against my temple. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t.” The reassurance cost me nothing; he wouldn’t even remember my words by morning. It seemed I could still lie convincingly. Most of all to myself.

Noctis eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep, his shallow breaths brushing against my cheek, his hand clasped around mine.

I sighed in relief and gently untangled myself from him.

Trying to ignore the peaceful sight of his relaxed face, long dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, I busied myself with tending to his wound.

The bleeding had stopped, and I thought the angry red welts had lessened.

The power of the healing stone pulsed in my hands as I mended the last remnants of the open cut.

To be safe, I slathered the entire area with disinfectant salve before bandaging it up.

My gaze wandered to the blankets beneath him, soiled with rainwater, mud, and blood.

I needed to change those, but first, I would let him rest.

The storm had finally broken, the window over the bed allowing in the light of dawn. I should check on the araks and the chickens. A bit of fresh air would help clear my head.

This time, when I looked back at Noctis before closing my bedroom door, a strange calm had settled within me. I was surely acting against the will of the Allfather, and I knew Noctis was still as dangerous and unpredictable as ever, but I couldn’t regret my choice.

Was his return to my life a blessing or a curse? I suspected the latter. But I would not let that scare me. It never had.