Page 4 of Starfall

Elias

A n icy hand woke me with a start.

I lunged for the dagger beneath my pillow and wrapped my fingers around the hilt. The silver blade flashed in the gloom; my father’s dagger was simple but devastatingly sharp. A fine weapon I proudly owned.

I half expected my mother to be hovering above, afflicted by another nightmare or midnight spell of insomnia. But she was gone, her body cold and buried yesterday morning.

It wasn’t my mother’s apparition looming above me now.

A young woman cloaked in all white floated like a dream before me, traces of ash sparkling on her forehead and chin. For a second, I’d been rendered frozen, struck immobile by her; she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, so startling, so stunning, that I choked on my breath.

She glowed .

The pale light she emanated reminded me of the moon on the clearest winter evening. I wanted to bask in it, to feel it on my skin.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have had that much to drink. The empty bottle I’d tossed in the corner was a reminder of the pain I’d experience soon. The whiskey messed with my head, making me see this divine woman .

She wasn’t real.

Still, it’s not the worst hallucination , I thought, sucking in a sharp breath. Eternal below, I needed a fucking distraction from the past year of my life. Heartbreak and death made for poor companions.

As if I had all the time in the world, I drank in every inch of the woman; from the crown of her flowing silver hair to her bare feet.

Her gown tugged at lush curves, the silk a lover’s caress as it worshipped her shining skin.

Tiny blue and white flowers had been pinned to a ribbon around her delicate wrist, the buds flecked with gold.

All right. I could indulge in this. In her.

It was better than being miserable.

I lingered on her eyes last; those wide, startled eyes that matched her hair, though just the barest trace of blue floated within the extraordinary silver irises. The hue brought me back in time to the days I’d ventured to the Northern Sea as a young boy, the wild waters reflecting the gray skies.

“W-who are you?” I heard myself asking, my control over my own body practically nonexistent. My mouth might as well be a separate entity.

The chill of the dagger in my hand reminded me of what I held, and like a fool, I lifted it upward, confused and half awake. Instantly, the woman stumbled back, her hand—the one that had touched me—falling to her side to tug at her gown.

Shit . I lowered the weapon, the haze of sleep unclenching its claws. I was terrifying my own hallucinations.

“I—” She took a generous breath, her chest rising chaotically as if in panic. “I touched your brow. I spoke the words,” she murmured, inching backward until she collided with the wall. She scanned the space, practically buzzing with adrenaline.

What the fuck?

She was clearly frightened, and the side of me that wasn’t jaded by this crooked world lowered its guard. The innocence in her eyes spoke to the boy I’d been fourteen years ago. Alone and afraid.

It slowly dawned on me—perhaps too slowly—that she might not be some hallucination I’d cooked up in my desperate need to forget.

Rising to my full height, I advanced with caution, my gut twisting when she immediately stiffened—I might have lowered my weapon, but I didn’t put it away; the woman was still an intruder.

I studied her as she peered to her left, landing on the closed bedroom door.

The only escape route. Outside, the moon shone through the curtains, the rolling hills of my childhood home basking in a pale white glow.

“Hey, now. I’m not gonna hurt you.” I grimaced as I tossed my father’s dagger to the floor and held up both hands. “I just want to know why you’re here. In my room .”

And why you look like a fucking goddess come to life?

She was too fucking attractive for her own good. She didn’t appear human.

“Why didn’t it happen?” she asked instead, ignoring my question. Deep frown lines marred her brow. “It should have been instantaneous.”

“What should’ve happened?” I asked tentatively, taking a hesitant step, now feet away. It could be that I wasn’t the only one who’d indulged in drinks tonight… I searched for the telltale redness in her eyes, a sway to her body, the smell of ale or liquor on her breath.

Nothing.

So not drunk. Lost? Unwell?

Her head snapped up like a doe caught in the woods by a huntsman, her alarm shifting into something else.

A violent flush darkened both of her cheeks, those plush lips thinning.

She studied me now, raking her gaze across my body, lingering on places she shouldn’t.

I’d gone to bed in nothing but my undergarments, and my bare chest exposed the many cuts and scars painting my skin.

“What should’ve happened?” I repeated, my harsh tone causing her stare to jerk back to my eyes. The crimson in her cheeks grew even darker.

“I should have made your greatest wish come true.”

The words hung in the air between us, and our eyes locked—her brilliant silver and my green.

A sliver of ice skittered down my spine, an unusual sense of familiarity washing over me like a gentle wave.

I blinked, stunned by my response. The woman cocked her head in reply, that furrow between her brows deepening .

“This has to be your fault,” she whispered, the curiosity in her gaze turning to something else. Something darker.

I scoffed. “You broke into my house. How the hell is anything my fault?—”

The woman lunged.

A surprisingly solid frame struck me before I soared through the air and bounced on the mattress. I hadn’t a second to react as the stranger straddled my hips and seized my wrists.

It all happened in the span of a heartbeat.

With strength I hadn’t thought possible, she’d thoroughly secured my hands above my head, her thighs pushing into my sides as though in warning. I went to yank my wrists free, but she merely tightened her grip to the point of pain. The glow that had surrounded her like a halo wavered, dimming.

My lips parted. “Definitely real,” I mumbled, talking more to myself than to her. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my breathing strained as adrenaline dug in its icy claws.

This was what I got for being nice. For trying to help the woman hovering over me like a wraith.

“Why didn’t it work?” she demanded, her voice more like a growl. Her eyes flashed a blazing white before settling to silver once more. She voiced her question like I had any clue what she meant. As far as I was concerned, she’d lost her head.

I let out a choked gasp. It took a lot to shock me.

If the boys at the ring could see the notorious Elias Carmichael now, trounced by some waifish lass, they’d laugh their asses off.

As a renowned fighter in Persh, I had a reputation to uphold.

One this unearthly intruder ruined in less than five minutes.

A grunt rumbled deep in my throat when she thrust my wrists deeper into the mattress. On any other occasion, I might’ve enjoyed a woman on top of me, but now was not such a time. I preferred my partners without murderous looks in their eyes.

“I said. What. Did. You. Do?” Every word flew at me like a hostile assault, the subtle lilt of her voice turning to an incensed snarl .

“Darlin’, I don’t have the faintest idea who the hell you’re talking about.

” I shifted on the bed, and her thighs squeezed in response.

I sighed, wracking my mind for something to persuade her to release me.

My thoughts blurred together and into a single stream of panic.

I sure as shit didn’t have any charm to fall back on.

I didn’t inherit Father’s charisma. Or his unwavering faith, for that matter.

And the way she held me down without effort… It unnerved me. Well, aside from her breaking into my fucking room and attacking me. I almost laughed at the thought.

“While this has been grand and all, would you mind removing your hands?” I arched a brow, hating how curiosity raced through me. I wondered how she maintained such a resilient position. Maybe she should be the one fighting for Darren.

What are you?

“No,” she replied, searching the room once more.

There wasn’t much to it: a bed, a side table, and a dresser.

I barely spent time here, just when I visited my mother once or twice a year.

The reason I’d returned this early in the season was because someone had to make the funeral arrangements, and as her only kin, it had to be me.

Like a coward, I left the small town of Clarine three years ago on my twentieth birthday, unable to stay in this home a second longer.

Securing passage to Persh, I quickly created a name for myself as the youngest champion fighter at Darren’s notoriously brutal club.

Remembering how many opponents I’d vanquished in the ring, I jerked my hands. They didn’t budge an inch. I convinced myself that if I hadn’t been tottering on my feet and reeking of ale, I wouldn’t be in this…compromising position.

“Are you searching for my mother?” I asked, trying a different approach. Was this one of the many strays she took in? I hated that she allowed strangers into her home, but she had a soft spot for those in need.

“Your mother?” the woman asked cautiously, her head swiveling to lock on me. It was like a bolt of lightning, that look. A look of hope. “Is she here?”

“No,” I said, clearing my throat. “She, um, she died a couple of days ago.” My chest tightened. It took all my willpower to get the words out, to keep my voice from cracking. I hadn’t shed a single tear since I received the news. At Father’s funeral, I hadn’t shed a tear either.

“She died?” The hands shackling my wrist shook. “No, that can’t be right. No?—”

Taking advantage of her loosened hold, I flipped the woman onto her back and grasped her wrists, putting her in the same position I’d been in seconds before.