Page 71 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
CHAPTER
Noctis
R ada remained silent as we trudged back to the farm, lost in her thoughts.
The storm had finally abated, but its remnants lingered.
Gloomy, dim light seeped through the low-hanging clouds, casting an eerie pall over the courtyard.
Mud and broken branches littered the ground, a few shingles had come loose from the roof, and the henhouse was missing the two bushes by its entrance, but overall, we had been lucky.
Nothing major had been destroyed. Still, the cleanup would be daunting.
“We need to take care of the body,” Rada commented. “It’s too close to the farm. With those Serai still lurking about, it will only lure predators to us.”
Her words snapped me from my reverie. After all these ages, she still had the power to surprise me. I expected her to be pale and drawn, shaken by what had transpired. But her striking face showed no hint of turmoil, only a steely resolve.
I cleared my throat, unable to meet her eyes. “I can do that. You stay here at the farm. ”
“No. I will accompany you,” Rada replied immediately, her determined tone quelling any well-intentioned protest I might have uttered. “I will get the Fire stone and the rest of our weapons. The storm might have driven some predators out of their dens. We need to be careful.”
With a resigned sigh, I moved toward the barn to get the rest of the supplies we would need. It was her choice to make. I had long since learned never to underestimate her strength.
Alma stretched her head out of her stall, emitting a mournful groan in greeting. Her eyes drifted to the four vacant stalls adjacent to hers as I made my way to the storage room. The araks’ matriarch grieved our losses as deeply as her mistress.
“You did the best you could,” I murmured, pausing at her stall to stroke the dark fur above her curved horns. “Sometimes that’s all we can do.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “ Lyr knows it’s more than I’ve ever accomplished.”
After packing the supplies—a saw, a tarp, and a stack of dry firewood—I stepped back into the courtyard.
Rada was already waiting for me in front of the house.
Without a word, she handed me my scabbard and sword, gripping her spear tightly.
When we could delay no longer, we finally set off on the treacherous path through the mud.
“Do you think the storm also hit the village?” Rada asked after a while, deftly sidestepping an upended tree, her brow furrowed with concern.
“I hope not. It seemed concentrated on this area,” I replied, my voice roughened by guilt.
I knew I should have told her about the ominous presence I had sensed in the storm, but I hesitated.
She had said it herself: my presence threatened everything she held dear.
How would she react if she knew her araks had likely perished because my former servants still hunted me? That, once again, it was all my fault ?
As we trudged through the aftermath, I had time to ponder the nature of the Chaos storm.
While it had latched onto me, it had raged over the hills even before Rada and I arrived.
It was as if it had been unleashed with no aim or control.
A means to gauge our strength, to weaken us, I realized as my mind raced, connecting all the worrying signs.
The attack of the Chaoswolves. The spoiled grain.
Was someone toying with us? Ensuring we would be defenseless when they finally decided to strike?
Icy dread trickled down my spine. One of my servants was especially fond of that tactic, having employed it for countless years in my service to break even the most formidable resistance. Stars, if Deira was nearby…
My gaze flitted to Rada. I had to protect her, whatever the cost.
I was grateful for her presence, though, as we reached the dead arak.
Itzi seemed as big as a small mountain, and the prospect of having to cut her up enough to burn her was overwhelming.
My little queen truly proved her mettle, resolutely hauling away the pieces I severed with the saw on the tarp, amassing them on a quickly assembled pyre of branches and the firewood we had carried with us.
This was gruesome work. The stink of blood and death hung heavy in the air, both of us covered in gore before long.
It wasn’t until we got to the head, the saw clumsily hacking through the thick neck and my harsh curses burning the air as blood splashed across my face, that Rada reached her breaking point.
She hastened a few steps to the side and bent over, hands on her knees, dry heaving.
“You can collect a few more branches,” I suggested once she had calmed a little. “I will take care of the rest.”
The way she followed my suggestion with no protest, her face pale, her expression vacant, sent a flash of worry through me. Rada remained silent when she returned after a while and handed me the Fire stone. I used its magic to ignite a blaze.
Her hand found mine, though, as the ravenous flames consumed the once lively Itzi. I pressed back, not letting go, the blood sticking our skin together.
The blood was everywhere.
It drenched our clothes, the soaked fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin as we trekked back to the farm, the coppery scent overwhelming.
It soiled our boots, each step leaving macabre marks on the muddy path as we moved away from the still-smoldering pyre.
It had even splattered across Rada’s face like gruesome paint, a single drop clinging to one of her lashes where she had wiped her temple with stained fingers in exhaustion.
“We need to bathe,” I said when we reached the farm.
She didn’t reply, simply following me as I pulled her toward the outdoor shower at the back of the house. Concern swelled within me when she just stood there, making no move to undress, her expression hauntingly lost.
“Let’s get you out of those.” I gestured at her soiled clothes. She didn’t stop me as I knelt and untied her boots. Not a word escaped her as I undressed myself next, letting my tunic, breeches, and underthings fall to the floor.
Her nod as I reached for her blouse with a soft “May I?” was so slight it was nearly imperceptible.
My worry deepened when she did not react as I carefully untangled the bindings of her chemise, not even when I tugged down her breeches, leaving her completely bare before me.
I unwound her braid. The only thing shielding her body from my gaze was the cascade of her fiery hair.
She had let me undress her like a malleable little puppet.
Shock. Whatever corner of her mind she had retreated to, I couldn’t follow.
All I could do was take care of her to the best of my abilities, as insufficient as they might be.
I discarded our clothes on the floor outside the shower, deeming them beyond saving. There would be time to burn them later. Then I turned back to Rada.
If I were a better man, I wouldn’t have noticed how the water pearled over her luscious curves as I turned on the shower, how it mixed with the blood and dripped down in rivulets, painting her body in rust-red stripes.
But lyr , it had been so long, and she was so beautiful and so close.
I had lived through—had done—too many grisly things to be dissuaded by a little bit of blood.
I hadn’t mentioned the kiss we had shared amid the storm, conscious that it might have been meaningless, a spur-of-the-moment act born out of necessity.
Yet the awareness of how she had tasted, how it had felt to drown in her and the magic flowing between us, pounded through my veins in a heady rush.
A dark part of me yearned to push her against the wooden wall of the shower.
To lose myself in her heat while the water cleansed us both, a glorious reminder that we were still alive.
That she was mine, despite it all. To have and protect.
What held me back was not common sense or morals; it was the way Rada stayed lethargic even now, neither teased nor chastised me for my noticeable arousal. All fire, all bite, had gone out of her, leaving behind only a disconcerting vulnerability in their ashes.
And she trusted me. She trusted me to be here when she was at her weakest. The revelation made me keep a tight control on my every movement; efficient, brief touches to soap her up and wash the suds and blood away, never lingering too long in one place, not even when I knelt to wash her legs and feet.
I was even quicker as I scrubbed myself clean, cursing as I realized I had to fetch towels. When I returned, Rada was still under the warm shower, eyes closed and unmoving. She shivered when I turned off the water, but said nothing as I wrapped a towel around her and lifted her into my arms.
She seemed smaller and more delicate than ever, nestled against me, her hand resting on my bare chest. A fierce protectiveness surged through me, the impulse to shield her from harm astonishing in its intensity.
“Tempted to take advantage right now?”
Her soft inquiry snapped me back to reality.
She wasn’t as out of it as I had thought.
She sensed the risk of us tumbling into the wonderful comfort physical intimacy could bring.
Her hand on my chest trailed slowly up and down, a barely-there caress, her eyes hooded.
I considered throwing all caution to the wind.
The shrewd manipulator inside me recognized the opportunity to pull her more firmly into my grasp, with instincts honed over centuries.
Yet… I had promised her this time would be different. This was the moment when I had to prove it was more than just pretty words. That I wasn’t the one she needed to be protected from most. Both to her and to myself.
“You always tempt me, little queen.” I kissed the crown of her head, her wet hair cool beneath my lips. “But I promise I won’t do anything you’re not asking me to.”