Page 61 of Starfall

Ari

E verything happened quickly after Elias’s win.

They carted an unconscious Zade from the arena floor, his blood dripping onto the ground from his gaping wounds in his wake. I didn’t know if he’d survive.

Darren had clasped Elias’s hand and thrust it into the air, his sadistic smile on full display while Elias looked distantly ahead. The boss wasted no time parading him through the stands, showing off his prized fighter.

Elias had beaten Zade without my help.

My power…had failed.

The chants echoing in the arena grew muffled as the walls closed in.

I started to hyperventilate, imagining the consequences.

I had no idea what would happen now, and I hated not knowing.

Everything rested on my shoulders, and I suspected other forces were playing with me like a pawn on a chessboard.

I’d never felt like more of a human than I did then.

I snapped to attention when Elias moved, shoved by a grinning Darren. The boss waved at the crowd with a flourish, as if he had won the championship match.

“Time to celebrate properly!” Darren shouted with maniacal glee. He ushered the riotous masses toward the main entrance, where guards were propping open the doors.

Elias had won. The last night of the festival was upon us. And if I didn’t get Elias into that tent…

What?

What would happen? I should have felt something, right, a jerk or tug or shift in the universe?

I avoided the thrashing bodies as I fought to keep close to Elias, our soul bond aching, pulling taut.

He caught my eye, his gaze wide with shock, but Darren clung to him too tightly for him to escape his grasp.

I nodded at him before he was forced forward and to the doors, hastily twisting and turning to avoid colliding with any of the drunken revelers who all shouted his name.

Many offered him pints of ale as he passed, but Elias brushed them off.

The soul bond strained the farther he went, and while I had tried to keep up, it wasn’t enough to close the gap, not in this bedlam. Stinging white heat coated the inside of my chest, the throbbing growing with each ticking second.

Ahead, I glimpsed Elias stagger, likely affected by the bond’s magic. He dragged his feet while he turned his head, frantically searching for me. I swore he called out my name like a plea, but that could have been my imagination. The world had erupted into chaos.

I grabbed my diamond necklace as I maneuvered closer, trying to rip it from my neck. I wanted anything to do with Xavier or the Eternal himself off of my body. Frustration built when the chain didn’t break, and the diamond shone at me mockingly under all the lamp posts lit outside.

If he had a hand in my magic vanishing…

“Xavier!” I called out, one soul shouting among so many.

“Show yourself!” My voice was a growl, anger deepening my tone.

I wasn’t surprised he didn’t respond. Why would he?

Fucking coward. He told me he wanted me to complete the wish.

So why did I feel like he had a hand in all of this?

Like he’d led me down a path, one I followed without thought, only to deliver me to hell.

He claimed he needed me to go against the Eternal and his so-called lies, but where was Xavier now when I needed him? Needed answers ?

The horde of bodies had traveled to the Key Quarter, most everyone holding a drink in their hand as they cheered for the Bloody Fist. The craving to grab a glass myself was tempting. What I wouldn’t do to just be one of them; carefree and smiling. Oblivious.

But something dark brewed. The night held too many shadows, and the air grew heavy. My heart raced as sweat clung to my dress, and the hair at my nape rose—my body knew to be on guard before my mind could keep up.

I stumbled when the bond gave a sharp pull, my breath catching. Fuck. If I felt this much pain, then Elias would be in agony.

I jumped in place like a fool, trying to discover where Darren had brought Elias.

Ahead, the archway leading to the festival beckoned, and I darted through gaps in the crowd.

Get to him . That was all I could think about.

All I knew. I had to find Elias, and then we’d figure this out.

Logically, I knew he hadn’t a clue either, but he’d be with me…

on my side. Not the Eternal’s. Not Xavier’s. Elias would choose me.

There.

Chest heaving with exertion from my sprint, I sighed in relief when I spotted him next to the archway. Elias had his back to me, but I caught sight of that tattoo.

Mind. Soul. Balance.

It was too much of a coincidence that the mark I’d left on Charlie’s men had been inked onto Elias. No. The more I thought about it, the more I realized something?—

I’d spent twenty years searching for a Chosen, and days before the Fall, I found one. I’d been lured to him like a fish to bait. Because if his wish to save his mother had been the same, as I presumed it would be, I’d have located him sooner.

Had someone hidden him until the right time? Did Elias and that mark hold the clue as to why I’d failed in my mission?

I shoved a man wearing a raven feathered coat, uncaring when he shot me a crude gesture. Fuck all of this. I was done .

Gaining ground, I silently begged for Elias to turn around and see me. Of course, Darren was parading him before some stuffy-looking businessmen. Using him like he was a trophy in order to speak with the higher society of Persh.

Pathetic.

“We’ll show our faces at the Lost Souls’ Ball before we enter the Bleeding Hearts’ Tent,” Darren boomed, his voice close.

Ten more feet and I’d be upon them. “That’s where everyone of importance is meeting before the ceremony.

” Darren slapped Elias on the back. “I suspect you’ll want a drink before you watch your old flame marry. I sure as shit don’t envy you.”

Elias remained silent, but I could practically feel the animosity rolling off of him in waves. His hands clenched at his sides.

I skidded to a halt five feet away, panting and out of breath, a sheen of sweat on my skin.

Come on, brute . Turn.

Darren nudged Elias through the arch, but he shrugged him off and peered over his shoulder. Hope flared. He was looking for me.

“Elias!” I called his name for the hundredth time, my voice hoarse.

My throat tightened when he brought his attention to his training partner, Wyatt. He whispered into his ear, Wyatt’s eyes tilting up and searching the partiers before landing on me. Wyatt nodded solemnly, and Elias’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Come on, Elias, my boy! Off we go!” Darren shoved into Elias’s bare back, the boss’s meaty hand pressed between his shoulder blades.

I would eviscerate Darren later. That man had a death wish.

As they headed forward, I noticed Wyatt hanging back.

“Elias says you need to get into the Lost Souls’ Ball,” Wyatt said when he sidled up to me. His brow scrunched as he took in my harried state. “Elias also told me to tell you that everything is all right and that he’ll meet you there.”

Relief flooded my veins.

He didn’t blame me like I secretly feared.

I nodded woodenly at Wyatt. I wouldn’t be able to relax until I reached Elias .

“I’ll get you in,” Wyatt promised, “But keep quiet and don’t make a fuss.

These people can be dangerous, all right?

” Concern laced his voice, and he gently took my hand before guiding me through the swarm of bodies while Darren occasionally lifted Elias’s hand into the air as he shouted his victory.

Elias earned appreciative hoots and hollers from the revelers, some lingering on his physique, devouring him in a way that made me want to knock a few heads together.

I seemed to have acquired Elias’s violent tendencies.

They treated him like less than a person, a violent symbol without a soul. There was so much more to Elias than they knew.

So much more than I’d originally believed.

On the other side of the festival grounds, past a roped-off partition guarded by a dozen uniformed men in tailored black coats, rose an ochre tent, its apex painted in illustrious gold.

Shimmering silver stripes raced down its sides, and hundreds of crystal stars were hand-sewn onto the fabric.

I hadn’t seen it before tonight. They must have just put it up.

“Is that the Bleeding Hearts’ Tent?” I asked Wyatt. “It wasn’t here on the first two days of the festival.”

“No, that tent is where the Lost Souls’ Ball is being held. The Bleeding Hearts’ Tent is just beyond it, and much grander. Last year, it was constructed of the finest red silks, and this year, I hear every single piece of furniture is made of gold.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That seems rather garish.”

“It definitely is,” Wyatt agreed with a forced wink. His smile was too strained to be real. Whatever Elias had whispered to him to get him to find me must have sounded urgent. And I supposed it truly was.

Elias and Darren made their way through the tent’s entry, a roaring applause greeting them from beyond. Wyatt held me back, his fingers squeezing my shoulder. We paused until they’d made their way inside, and only then did his hand fall.

“Try not to catch attention,” Wyatt warned with a heavy sigh. “Tonight will be madness.” He waved a hand before us, and several costumed guests rushed inside to trail the boss and his champion.

As we entered, yellow rose petals descended, cascading from the ceiling like falling raindrops. I tilted my head as they landed on my hair and cheeks. The air smelled of the petals’ luscious scent, along with the hint of cinnamon and freshly baked desserts.

It would have been heavenly if my stomach wasn’t in knots and my lungs weren’t struggling for air.

The tent hosting the Lost Souls’ Ball was far larger than it appeared from the outside; a trick of illusion dedicated to a festival devoted to grandeur and mystery.