Page 68 of Darkness Births the Stars #1

It was a good idea. While I did not think anyone in Dalath would recognize him, it was even more unlikely the less he looked like his former self.

My fingertips trailed over his temple, down to his cheekbone, and finally rested on his jaw, the stubble rough beneath my fingers. “Yes, when we get home.” Was it my explorations or my words that ignited such yearning in his eyes, causing my heart to ache as well?

“Home?” he asked.

Was I really contemplating allowing the man who had waged war against everything I had created, who had almost destroyed the world, who had broken my heart, to stay at my farm? Was I contemplating trusting him enough to ask him to help me defend all that I had grown to care for?

My mind weighed it all: the good and the bad, the pain and the joy, my fears and my hopes. It was my heart that decided.

“Home.” A soft confirmation, spoken with my gaze never leaving him. The disbelieving wonder on his face nearly undid me.

This time, there was no ignoring the rising tension between us.

I agreed without discussion to his demand to ride Nacin down together.

We checked on the araks one last time, using the two Air stones to set up a magical barrier, before I climbed up behind him on the stallion’s back.

We would return in the morning to milk the herd.

As I wrapped my arms around Noctis, pressing my face into the fabric of his tunic, his scent enveloped me.

He took such a deep breath that I felt it resonate within me.

The ride to the farm was over both too quickly and not soon enough.

I avoided his gaze as we tended to Nacin and stepped into the house.

A faint tremble shook me. The reality of his presence, part of me acutely aware of the exact distance between us at every single moment, was overwhelming.

I went into the kitchen and gulped down a glass of water, uncaring that I was revealing too much.

“We should head to the bathroom,” I blurted out after setting the empty glass down.

Noctis looked at me, utterly bewildered. “You want to cut my hair now? ”

“Yes, why not?” I answered, bustling past him, aware my voice was too high, and that it was far too early to retire inside the house.

“As you like.” His expression was carefully controlled as he followed me. But I noticed the quick pulse at the side of his neck.

What are you doing? part of me wondered incredulously as I guided him into the bathroom. I didn’t know. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I retrieved a small stool and gestured toward the sink, briefly explaining that wetting his hair would make things easier.

Noctis stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I can do that myself.”

I shook my head. “No, let me.”

He stopped protesting as I arranged all the necessary items along the sink’s edge: a towel, a comb, scissors, and shampoo. First, I was going to indulge, though.

“Take off your tunic.”

To my delight, Noctis simply followed my order.

No hesitation, not even one single taunt at the fact that I wanted him to undress.

Only quick, efficient movements. His tunic dropped to the floor.

Suddenly, my bathroom felt like the smallest space in all of Aron-Lyr.

I moved slowly, grounding myself in each sensation.

The smoothness of his skin under my fingertips as I tilted his head back over the sink; the warmth of the water cascading down as I activated the lyrin -stones; the soft moan escaping him as I lathered his hair, my fingers kneading his scalp with intentional pressure; the fragrance of snowdrops filling my senses.

“You still use the same shampoo, don’t you?” Noctis murmured, his voice relaxed, his eyes closed. “I always loved that scent.”

He remembered it, even after all these years. “Not exactly the same,” I replied. “Tanez used to make it for me in Lyrheim.”

Being so close to him both ached like an unhealed wound and soothed all my pain.

I could see the shadows his long lashes cast on his cheekbones, could feel every exhale of breath, could savor the heat of his body.

The dark strands of his hair slid around my fingers like silk as I rinsed out the soapy water.

“This feels nice,” he murmured. It was over too soon, so I decided to wash his hair a second time, unabashedly drawing this out.

Noctis did not complain, though he must have been getting a crick in his neck.

He leaned into my touch, groaning softly whenever my fingers found a new sensitive spot.

Swept away by the dreamy atmosphere, I let my gaze—and then my hands—wander, gliding down the side of his neck, tempted by the visible proof of our connection until I couldn’t resist anymore.

Noctis froze as my fingers traced over the words etched on his skin and followed the elegant swirls above them.

“When did you get that?” I asked hesitantly.

“Shortly after my sentencing. From an Aerieth soothsayer in Triannon.” He shivered as my touch hovered dangerously close to his nipple, but his eyes remained closed.

I didn’t pry, though my curiosity deepened.

Why had he chosen to etch a permanent reminder of me into his skin?

And why then, when the wound of my betrayal was still raw?

When he should have hated me as much as, if not more than, the rest of the Ten?

But then, why had I left Lyrheim to hide in the middle of nowhere? Why did I try to erase my past and pretend to be a simple mortal? Why had I grown used to brewing myself a cup of that dreadful tea he loved so much during all those lonely nights, longing for even the slightest memory of him?

Because I couldn’t forget, no matter how foolish and illogical it was. And it seemed neither could he.

I reached over and traced the angry red lines of Noctis’s scar, a brutal reminder of the stormy night that had brought him back into my life; the raised, rough texture was a stark contrast to the smooth skin around it. “How did this really happen? How did Tharion find you after all those years?”

I couldn’t let him keep his secrets any longer. The Chiasma and Galator becoming active again just as he appeared couldn’t be a coincidence. He knew what they were up to.

“Baradaz…” Noctis’s eyes fluttered open, his expression conflicted.

“No,” I said, silencing him with a finger to his lips. I couldn’t bear hearing any more lies and subterfuge. “Don’t try to distract me. I want the truth.”

His gaze locked with mine, his breath a whisper against my skin.

“Do you remember that little fantasy we used to have? Back when we were in your cave?” he murmured. “That we would leave it all behind, just you and me?”

Yes, I remembered. It was after Aramaz had pardoned him following the first war with Chaos, when he had tasted freedom again following two ages of imprisonment. When I had let him poison my thoughts against everyone else, my weakness leading to a catastrophe.

“It doesn’t have to be a pretense. Not anymore. We finally have a chance to be together.” Noctis’s voice was imploring, almost desperate.

But those were never his true desires. He’d always dreamed of ruling Aron-Lyr, using my affection to keep me at his side. A pawn. Necessary to fulfill his ambitions.

My hand fell away from his skin. “Because every woman loves to be the last resort when all else fails. You said it yourself. You had nowhere else to go. That’s why you came here. You nearly got yourself killed, and no one else was foolish enough to take you in.”

“No, that’s not…” Noctis tried to rise, but I firmly pressed him back down, resolutely drying his hair with the towel.

He frowned up at me as I finished and grabbed the scissors.

He must be getting nervous, wi th me holding a sharp object close to his neck in this mood.

“I knew for some time where you were,” he said.

“I picked up that Air stone from the same soothsayer who gave me the tattoo.”

“That’s awfully convenient.” The snipping of the scissors echoed the furious rhythm of my heart. Black strands floated to the floor.

Noctis snorted. “I suspect dear Enlial had something to do with it. That overgrown bird could never keep their beak out of other people’s business.”

I filed that information away for later. Considering my last conversation with the enigmatic Aurea of Air, this tidbit was very interesting.

Noctis sighed. “To be honest, the only reason I didn’t come here before was that I was not sure you wouldn’t impale me on sight.”

Wonderful. Even he was surprised by the extent of my persisting weakness for him.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you are content to stay here on my farm with me?” I threw at him, my irritation rising. “That you won’t exploit any surge in Chaos magic for your own gain?”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you won’t be through that door attempting to save the world like a bloody hero if that happens?” Noctis’s tone was as harsh as mine.

His condescension when talking about helping anyone but himself was frustratingly familiar.

I gave his hair a final snip and scoffed in angry disbelief, the scissors still clenched in my hand.

“So that’s it? As soon as there’s another conflict, we’re adversaries again?

How do you think this is going to work?”

My words made something in him snap, dark eyes blazing up at me as he leaned his head back to meet my gaze. “I am not your enemy, Baradaz.”

I leaned over him in answer, not averting my eyes for a second. One quick shift of my grip on the scissors and the sharp point was gliding over the side of his neck, an open threat. He swallowed visibly.

“Is that so? Yet you are keeping so many secrets from me. Secrets that bring danger to me, the farm, and the people living here.” My voice caught as the truth of my words sank in.

“Give me one single reason why I should trust you. Just one.” Part of me wanted him to dispel my doubts, wanted him to be the ally I so desperately needed.

I was so alone. I had been alone for so long, and…

The stool screeched over the floor as Noctis moved abruptly, one sharp gesture sending my scissors clattering off over the tiles.

“You don’t understand,” he exclaimed. A wild light flickered in his eyes as he stood up and whirled around to me. He seized my arms and pulled me toward him. “I know I’ve been a fool for much too long. I know I have made so, so many mistakes. But there’s only one side for me anymore.”

He is too close, my mind screamed.

“Your side.”

I yearned for him to be closer still. I yearned to believe him.

“I’m so tired of being angry at you.” A reluctant confession I could not stop from escaping. Warm fingers grazed my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed. Every fiber of me longed to surrender, to stop fighting. “But I’m too afraid not to be angry.”

“Baradaz…” His breath whispered over my lips. Lyr , please…

Boom!

The house trembled with a thunderous roar, and for a confused instant, I believed it was the final warning of my unraveling sanity. Another boom followed, mere seconds after. Dread pulsed through me. No, this couldn’t be happening.

I dashed out the door without a word, sprinting through the house to the outside. My heart pounded painfully in my chest at the sight that awaited me.

How could the world transform so completely in just an hour?

The morning’s clear blue sky had vanished, replaced by dark, towering clouds that stretched over the horizon. Lightning struck in the distance, tinged with ominous amethyst and emerald. Another boom of thunder followed. The wind yanked violently on my braid.

“Chaos storm.” Noctis had followed me outside, pulling his tunic over his head. His voice was full of apprehension as he looked up at the sky.

“But there was no warning,” I cried. “And it’s much too late in the year for it. I didn’t think…”

My araks were in the hills, with no protection at all. If we didn’t act quickly, they would die.

“What do you need me to do?” Noctis asked. His firm grip on my arm grounded me.

I took a deep breath, attempting to quell my rising panic and devise a strategy. “We must bring the herd down as swiftly as possible. It’s the only way.”

Noctis gave me a determined nod and hurried to the stable to saddle Nacin. I raced back inside to fetch the Chaosdagger, tucking it into the back of my breeches. Despite the danger of using it, we might need it.

Noctis’s eyes held the same stark worry I felt as he helped me up behind him on Nacin’s back. Without a moment’s delay, he spurred the stallion onward, heading straight for the darkened hills.

Directly into the heart of the brewing storm.