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Chapter Thirty-Eight

“D idn’t take you as the type to sneak out the morning after,” Astra said from the warmth of her bed, tangled in the soft silk of her sheets.

The tattoos along his back stretched as he pulled his shirt over his head, glinting in the dim beams of moonlight cutting through the window behind him. A slow smile unfurled over his lips as he pulled his boots on.

“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she chuckled, her sheets slipping over her skin as she sat up and searched for her clothes. “Shit, I’ve said that before.”

He tugged on his bootlaces and jolted forward, snagging the silk robe he’d peeled off her last night before she could grab it.

Luxuros held it between them, a lavender flag suspended in the air, his smile darkening with something wicked. Astra lunged as he pulled it away, the movement of her body as she sliced through the speckled light stirring a deep maroon storm within his chest.

“Fine,” she said, shrugging and pulling her hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, all too aware as her arms raised behind her head she offered him a view he couldn’t pry his eyes away from if he wanted to.

He certainly did not want to.

But he needed to, she realized, the ticking of the clock on her nightstand drawing her attention to the hour. Soon, maidens would shake off the night and begin their daily chores. Ameera would be close behind them with a tray of coffee and breakfast.

She closed the distance between them, his arms reflexively reaching behind her to drape the robe over her bare shoulders.

“I wasn’t sneaking out,” he insisted, tracing lines down her arms.

“Sure, Commander,” she whispered, pushing up on her toes to catch the edge of his jaw in her lips. His chest eased at her touch, a feeling he feared would make it impossible to think clearly for the rest of his existence. His hands moved on their own accord, pulling her into him by her hips.

“Does it even matter what I say? You can see the truth, anyway, can’t you? I couldn’t keep it from you a moment longer.” He brushed his fingers against her hair, shivering as her hands found their way beneath the hem of his shirt.

She nodded, shades of rosy pinks and scarlets swirling between them. She could see it, amulet or not, and while much of him remained a mystery, there were two things she was certain of:

1. The gods were even more cruel than she’d believed prior to watching the stars within him contract and implode beneath her

and

2. They were so very fucked.

He didn’t need her intuition to come to the same conclusion.

“I should get back before Ameera comes to wake the mighty Fire Queen.” Luxuros placed a soft kiss on her forehead, the warmth branding her.

“Are you staying in the Lunar Court, then?”

He glanced at the door, an amused frustration rumbling against his throat. He rubbed the outside of her crossed arms, the heat of his fingers once so alarming now a source of comfort.

“If I were a smart man, I’d be on the other side of the universe by now, trying to forget the way you taste. But as you’ve pointed out many, many times, I am not a smart man.”

Her eyes fell to his lips, satisfied that she’d broken his resolve, no matter the mess poised to crash over them. Astra followed him to the door, leaning against the cool stone, a chill forming at her back.

He loomed over her. Heat whispered between them, no longer emanating solely from him, but from the space between their chests, the Tether a lightning rod stitching them together. Lux’s eyes searched hers, finding a thousand answers to questions he’d never asked.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” he laughed, a soft curve to her lips holding back a comment. “Ameera will hear you.”

Her nose scrunched. She beheld his face—and it was something to behold, merely looking would never be enough. The worry lines she’d carved beneath his eyes had been replaced by fresh, new fears.

“I’m still unsure what to make of you.”

“Make whatever you desire of me.” He touched the freckles across the bridge of her nose.

“Make me your sunlight, make me your darkest secret,” he murmured, leaning into her, letting himself pour over her one more time before that door opened and he’d have to do the impossible and return to his king’s side. “Make an irreparable mess of me.”

She tucked into the space below his throat, craving the sound of his heart beating against hers.

“We’ll find a way to fix this—all of this.”

He said nothing for a moment, the fear that fled in wisps of smoke last night now rekindling.

“We need to be scared. Much more scared than you are right now. What happened with Solan and Leona...” He would not dare speak the dark thought to life.

She heard it, nonetheless, rushing in reds and violets beneath his shirt.

“Once you leave this room, I promise I’ll behave.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he chuckled. His fingers brushed her shoulder as he lifted her chin toward him. “We cannot be reckless.”

“Of course,” Astra said, pushing her bedroom door open, the moonstone edge scraping gently across obsidian tile.

The door stopped as it came into contact with something.

Someone.

“Oh!” Nayson yelped as he caught the knuckles of his right hand on the handle, sending a coffee kettle flying across the hallway.

“Father!” Astra gasped. She pulled the trim of her robe tighter around her neck, scarlet smoke choking her lungs.

“I was— oh, gods —I was just leaving some coffee, and your lights were on. I know you’ve been having a hard time with your mother back. I thought you could use some comfort…”

Her father stood and turned away, the commander’s heart slamming hard enough against his sternum the Tether between them pulsed.

“Nayson,” Luxuros said, but the king held up a hand, waving in surrender.

“I didn’t see anything,” Nayson mumbled. “I—well—I should let someone know to clean this up.” He darted down the hallway, not risking a glance over his shoulder.

Astra bit her bottom lip, her fingers twisting into the silk of her robe. She looked to the commander, a similar wince taking hold over his countenance.

She rubbed her forehead. “You were saying?”

“I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He squeezed her hand in a farewell gesture, stepping over the puddle of steaming coffee pooling in the middle of the hall.

* * *

Do you think Mother and Father are fighting?

Lunelle caught her sister’s eyes halfway through a miserable breakfast across from the Plutonian prince as a leather boot tapped Astra’s foot under the table.

She shot the commander a warning look, still in a daze from this morning’s run-in with Nayson, and though she tried to rise above it, she was all but drowning in the heat of the commander in new, wholly consuming ways.

What makes you ask that? Astra replied, her eyes searching the end of the table where her mother sat stiffly in her carved chair, her lips pursed in a fashion not unfamiliar to Astra.

A general disappointment, not directed solely at her for once, but there all the same.

She saw Nayson as Lunelle did—somewhat disheveled, strangely fixated on his plate, and ignoring Tula beside him as she asked after his latest painting.

They just seem at odds , Lunelle sent back.

She smiled numbly at something Arcas said, the Plutonian prince’s grim demeanor absorbing any light from the full Moon above.

Astra studied him. She’d ignored him before, so certain he would hardly be a memory in her life, but as the days wore on she realized it would behoove her to understand the stranger.

His face was long, drawn constantly into a sharp, arrogant point at his chin. His skin was a pale cerulean, the same shade Astra imagined the Earthen sky stretched over a fair Spring day might be. He was young, starved for power, and dangerous after the ego check of the Outer Courts ousting him.

“Princess?” Astra and Lunelle’s heads both snapped toward the end of the table, where Mirquios stared at them expectantly.

Lunelle forced her gaze away from him. He’d meant Astra.

“Sorry,” Astra winced, the chill of her mother’s stare settling into her bones.

“I was telling Arcas here what a talented rider you are. He has an affinity for dragons.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “Do you ride?”

Arcas shook his head, hardly letting his eyes leave his teacup. “I don’t. But I find them fascinating. We don’t have them in the Outer Courts.”

“Perhaps you could introduce him to Riverion,” Luxuros said, lifting his head from his plate for the first time since breakfast was served.

“Do not take the prince near that beast!” Oestera declared, the sturdiness of her tone drawing the eyes of the entire table.

“You’ll forgive me, Arcas, but Riverion has a history of unpredictable behavior around men,” she followed up, smoothing her skirt as she spoke.

Her eyes blazed against the morning moonlight, two silver flames burning through Astra.

“Odd,” Mirquios observed. “Luxuros seemed to find him quite amiable. I’ve yet to brave the introduction.” The commander set his fork down, glaring at Mirquios.

Lunelle’s voice shrieked in Astra’s mind. Astra Leona, you let the commander meet Riverion!

No! No. Astra set her lips. Lux snuck up on me in the roost. He threw himself in Riv’s claws before I could get the warning out!

Lunelle eyed her sister carefully, an amused smirk crossing her fair lips.

“I’m sure Riverion would be nothing but kind to you, Your Highness,” Nayson declared, louder than necessary as he gestured toward Mirquios. “He respects the worthy. Right?”

Astra looked from her father’s bewildered expression to Mirquios’s deeply entertained grin.

“What do you say, Fire Queen? Would I stack up to the commander in your beast’s eyes?”

Luxuros hung his head forward, reaching for another cup of coffee.

“Only one way to know for certain, my king,” Astra said, her breath strained as a rush of giddy pink ran through Mirq’s chest.