Page 10 of Grounded (Convergence #1)

Thaxvarien looked down at his shaking hands. Shaking! He had never trembled over anything or anyone in all his life. And it wasn't from fear.

“She's just a woman.” He let out a long breath. “And she can't be your destra. She's not Aethari. Calm the fuck down.”

His hands weren't listening.

Destra. The word flowed through his mind again.

Like a forgotten song. Teasing. Haunting.

Calling to him. There, but not fully. It was an ancient word.

Sacred. As was its partner: destru. Could Thaxvarien have that?

Such a bond was precious. Elite. Not every Aethari was blessed with one.

Approved by the Source of Magic itself, destiny unions were sacrosanct.

And they eclipsed every other bond—emotional or legal.

His hand trailed to his amulet as his mother's voice rose in his memories, “Don't fret, my sweet boy. There is time yet. I have a feeling that your service on the ground is the path to your destra. She can free you of this betrothal. Magic will guide you. And magic makes no mistakes.”

Thaxvarien had a terrible feeling that both he and his mother were wrong. Because if Liria Drask was his destra, magic had indeed made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Aethari couldn't marry Medeans. They could fuck them, even have relationships of a sort, but they couldn't marry them.

It was Aethari law. And it wasn't about racism.

Well, maybe it was. After all he'd learned about his people lately, that wouldn't surprise him.

But if the law was made to keep the race pure, they disguised their racism with biology.

The three races of Para couldn't interbreed.

No offspring could come from an Aethari-Medean union.

Because of that, marriage to a non-Aethari was seen as blasphemy against the Source of Magic. The opposite of blessed.

As soon as Thaxvarien let go of his amulet, his hand started shaking again.

As far back as childhood, he had known he was meant to bring about change.

Rattle the flying cities. Take his people forward.

Make a difference. When he was little, it was just a strange sense that things weren't as they should be.

But as Thaxvarien got older, that sense morphed into mutiny.

Many Aethari laws were outdated. So, he protested them.

Much to his father's chagrin. He protested and rallied with people who believed what he believed.

Thaxvarien had nearly a thousand compatriots by the time he reached the age of service.

His protests hadn't mattered then. Thaxvarien obeyed the law and reported for service on the ground. He may be rebellious, but he wasn't a criminal. Until the laws changed, he would abide by them.

Thank Source for that.

If he hadn't, he wouldn't have met Liria.

Oh, for magic's sake! Meeting her wasn't a good thing! Why was he relieved? The one law Thaxvarien had never disagreed with was the one about marrying outside his race. No Aethari could live cursed by Source.

So, there was no possibility that Source would choose Liria for him. It would be contradicting itself. Conclusion: all these feelings were simply lust. Nothing more. A temporary obsession. A passing fancy. A fleeting—

Ugh, he wanted her so badly!

Thaxvarien scowled and spun upward, off his stool.

Temporary, it may be, but while it claimed him, he couldn't resist the passion that churned in his belly.

Everything circled back to Liria, his thoughts constantly full of images of her face, her body, and even her hands.

They were so delicate and yet capable. Those hands had pushed him away.

Just his luck that the one woman he wanted didn't want him.

“Another reason why she can't be my destra,” Thaxvarien muttered. “She would feel it too. She'd be led to me. But she doesn't feel anything for me.” He plopped onto his bunk. “She's just another woman. I'm only obsessed because I can't have her. That must be it.”

But then a thought slithered into his mind—even though it was called a destiny bond, with the very words destra and destru rooted in destiny, the blessed couple was not guaranteed to form a lasting relationship or even a smooth one.

They would feel drawn to each other, certainly, but Source never forced its children.

Free will ensured that even destras and destrus could walk away from each other.

The bond was sacred and sought after, but it could be denied.

It wasn't unbreakable until the couple underwent the rite of the Star's Kiss and accepted Source's blessing.

Oh, fuck. What if she really were his destra, but she rejected him anyway because she was a Medean who had no idea how precious the bond was?

No, she couldn't be that. There had never been such a union. If there had been, there wouldn't be a law against it. Wait. Maybe that was faulty logic. Maybe it was backward. Had there been a destiny bond between a Medean and an Aethari? Was that why a law was made? Shit.

“What the fuck are you doing, Rennux?” Private Larocran Ader, who had the bottom bunk across from Thaxvarien's bottom bunk, sat down on his wide mattress and cocked his head. “You look a little ill.”

“I'm fine.”

He wasn't fine. And Ader's question was apt. What the fuck was he doing? The Star's Kiss? Sweet magic, he had just met this woman, and he was already thinking about an ancient rite to bond them? A rite only destrus and destras could undertake. And no Medeans. Fuck.

“I heard about you causing a stir in the Medean Chief Barracks.” Ader chuckled. “Nice.”

Thaxvarien grimaced.

Ader leaned back. “Oh, it's like that.”

“Like what?”

“You went after a woman.”

Thaxvarien shrugged.

“She turn you down?” his tone was teasing, but then Ader saw Thaxvarien's tight expression. “No way! You? One of them turned you down?”

“Fuck off, Ader. I was a shit to her.”

“Well, of course you were. You've been pouty since you got here. You've been a shit to me. Lucky for you, I like shitheads. I figured you had a girl back home and were missing her. Either that, or you were raging to get your dick sucked.”

“Neither. And I'm not pouty. I'm a very happy person.”

Ader snorted and flicked back his long, red hair. “Sure. Your tone is very convincing—full of joy and sparkles.”

“I am usually of a more positive demeanor.” Thaxvarien sighed. “I need to make things up to her, but I also want to, uh . . .”

“Fuck her until her eyes roll back and she screams for Source?”

Thaxvarien couldn't help chuckling. “Yeah, maybe. But I think Medeans scream 'convergence.'”

Ader cackled. “I like that! Wait.” He stopped laughing. “Do they really?”

“Don't you know?” Thaxvarien smirked.

“Not yet.” Ader jumped to his feet. “But I'm about to find out!” He smacked Thaxvarien's shoulder. “Thanks for the inspiration. Maybe I can return the favor with a little advice?”

“Go on.”

“Be yourself. If you're normally a carefree kind of guy, show her that.

Make her like you. And be persistent. Some girls need to know they're worth the effort.

They turn you down a few times just to see if you'll try again.” He leaned down and pointed in Thaxvarien's face.

“But don't be a pussy about it. Keep at it with a cocky grin on your face as if you know she wants you.”

Thaxvarien gaped at Ader as he straightened. “You know, that's not terrible advice.”

“You're welcome!” Ader bowed, his wings extending outward with his bend, and then strolled out of the room. “I'm off to see about this convergence thing. Wish me luck with my research!”

“Good luck!” Thaxvarien grinned. “Carefree and confident. I can do that.”