Page 31 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

Chapter twenty-three

Selene

A wareness is not a slow, gentle waking.

It is violent, and vicious. My hands claw at my throat, my face.

Thick, stinking, filth. It clings to me, to my eyes, filling my nose with the scent of decaying food and waste, tossed over the high walls of Terrosa.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Hands grab for mine, pushing my fingers away as they scratch at my face, and my cry catches in my throat as I flinch back.

“ Get it off — get it off—please—, ”

“ Selene .” The low sound of my name has me twisting. Arms slide beneath me, lifting me as I fight. “Open your eyes.”

A palm spreads over my lower back beneath my wings, rubbing in soothing circles through my shirt. “You’re not there anymore.”

Wheezing, fighting, I suck air into drowning lungs. “I— can’t. Hurts .”

It burns. Smothering me, choking me.

Gods, it hurts. Why must it always hurt?

“You are not there.” The murmur grows more forceful. “You’re on Volatus , Selene. You’re not in Terrosa anymore.”

My whimper slips free, sinking into silence. A strong hand captures mine, pressing it against warmth that thuds beneath my touch, my fingers curling into coarse threads. “Stop. Please. You’re safe. Breathe in. Slowly.”

My mouth opens, gasping for the promise of air.

“Not like that.” The words gentle further. “In through your nose, and out through your mouth. With me, on my count. One.”

I slam my mouth shut, blindly following the instruction. My lungs fill, my sob of relief breaking free. My face is pressed to something warm, and I try to focus on the beat beneath my palm, spreading my fingers out against rough material as the world grows a little clearer.

“Now out through your mouth. Don’t stop.” Fingers move to my forehead, gently pushing back damp, knotted strands before they cup my cheek. “It’s alright. Through your nose again. That’s good.”

After a few more breaths, I blink open crusted eyes. As if I’ve slept for days. The familiar sight of the bedroom comes into view, but it’s blocked by a swathe of golden skin barely an inch from my nose.

I force myself to keep breathing.

And with the breathing, comes a familiar scent. Spiced, sweet and heady and directly linked to the male I’m resting against. “C…Callan?”

“Unfortunately.”

I keep my eyes facing forward. And he keeps his arms wrapped around me.

I am… on him. Settled in his lap, Callan’s legs stretched out down the bed as he rests with his back against the wooden headboard. My own legs are curled up, his arms holding me gently around my wings. Loose enough to not feel restricting.

His heartbeat thuds against my palm. And my face… my face is buried against his neck. I take another breath, letting his scent fill my lungs. It helps to chase away the lingering filth that tries to cling to me, to fill my nose, so I breathe in again.

I find that it is not unpleasant.

His words are quiet. “You with me?”

I force a nod. My throat aches. When I lift my head to look up, our eyes meet.

Callan studies me intently, a frown pulling his brows together.

My eyes trace his features, taking in the scar on his lips, the faint bend in his nose.

The vivid circles beneath his eyes. They seem far more pronounced than they did earlier.

Such a deep purple that they almost match Esmeray’s eyes.

His stubble is a little longer than it was earlier, more of a scruff that brushes against my forehead as he shifts, adjusting me. “Should I move?”

There’s no teasing. Only a quiet question.

Slowly, I shake my head.

His eyes are still that brilliant shade of bronze. Still casting, even now.

“Are your eyes always that color?” The question slips free, winning over all the others that demand to be let free. This one feels easier, making it past the pain that lingers in my throat. “I’ve only seen them when you’re using the maegis.”

His gaze fixes on the door opposite. “They’ve been this shade my whole life. I’m told that they’re more fluid when I’m casting, but otherwise, this is it.”

He looks down at me. His fingers still trace my cheek in soft, comforting patterns. “Why do you ask?”

I frown. “I was curious. They are unusual.”

A small curve to his lips appears that I cannot read, before he changes the subject. “Do you remember what happened?”

My brows fold together. “I…”

I pause. “The shadows came back.”

His brows curve over his eyes as he focuses on me. “What does that mean?”

I search for the words. Unsure how much to offer, when I know so little myself. When my lips press together, Callan sighs but doesn’t push. “Are you alright?”

I nod. “I was panicking.”

“I know.” Grim words. “I wrapped up your other wrist while you were sleeping.”

The one he’s holding against his heartbeat. Callan shifts his hold to show me the white linen, neat and tidy. His fingers flex around mine before he releases me. “I didn’t know faeytes had Traveler maegis.”

I rotate my wrist, run my fingers over the wrapping. Fight the urge to slip my fingers underneath and scratch. “They don’t. As far as I know.”

My chest tightens. “But I don’t know much, it seems. It’s possible.”

Something else that might have been kept from me, to be revealed at the right time that never came.

Callan studies me in silence. He nods over my shoulder. “You have something.”

I twist to look. I stare at the barrel. Steam curls from the top, weaving into the air and reminding me of the shadows.

“You won’t hear any grumbling from Sol for a little while,” he says quietly. “He’s been in and heated it up four times.”

Callan clears his throat. “He’s not a bad male, Selene. An eejit, but cruelty is not his nature. I will not apologize for him when he is the one who owes you the words, but I will say that I value his friendship greatly.”

Who Callan values shouldn’t matter to me.

And yet. “He used his maegis to heat the water?”

Not just a bowl of it. The barrel is big enough for me to climb into, if I’m careful with my wings. An empty crate sits beside it, to help me climb in. To soak off the phantom filth that still clings to me, that I can never seem to get rid of no matter how hard I scratch and scrub.

But the baths help.

“Mmm.” Callan’s watching me when I turn back. His eyes crinkle at the edges. “Do you know what the pretium is for using vis maegis?”

My lips part, remembering Merrick’s words.

Callan’s smile is wry. “Speech. So I wouldn’t expect an apology from him until tomorrow, most likely, but not because he does not wish to give it.”

I consider that. “He won’t be able to speak at all?”

Callan shakes his head. His hold tightens as he lifts me from his lap to the bed beside him, his arms pulling free and leaving coldness behind.

I wrap my arms around myself and watch as he climbs off the bed.

“Don’t feel guilty. It was a small thing, and Solomon never casts without considering the cost. He’s used to getting by when the pretium is upon him.

Hand sign language, gestures. Rio does the same thing.

Between us, we’ve worked out a way to still communicate over the years. ”

Callan stretches, his shoulders popping. His linen shirt rises up, revealing a low strip of warm, golden skin above the waistband of dark leather. It makes me wonder how long he sat here, waiting for me to wake up.

Holding me.

And then I wonder why I so badly want to know.

Callan gestures. “You know where everything is, so I’ll leave you be.

There’s fresh linen in the chest. Although you may find yourself with company shortly.

Esmeray likely won’t miss out on the opportunity to have a better wash than what we’ve been having these last few days.

But she’ll wait for you to be done. There’s no rush. ”

My lips lift. “I don’t mind. I’m used to sharing bathwater. Tell her she’s welcome to come down.”

The thought makes my heart patter. I hope Tieren made it out of the territory. That she found her traveling band, made it through the gates toward her wife and home.

Callan nods. “Come up whenever you’re ready. It will be a quiet night. Rio is planning to teach you to play carpo, if you don’t know how. He’s convinced that you’ll make an excellent teammate since your eyes don’t give anything away, and he keeps losing to Merrick and Sol.”

He studies my face. “Although I’m not sure I would agree, when it comes to your eyes.”

I falter. Something swoops, light and fluttering in my chest.

But Callan turns away. The door swings closed behind him.

Swallowing, I pull myself up and cross the room on unsteady feet to dip my finger in the water. The steam travels up, caressing my face.

That’s why I feel flushed , I tell myself.

It’s just the water.

“Selene?”

My heart does something curious. Almost flipping, as I whirl around. As though it’s somersaulting, like the acrobats that once travelled through the city. Boralas had permitted me to watch them from the window as they flipped and danced through the street. “Did you forget something?”

Callan shakes his head slowly. He takes a slow step into the room. “On the day of the Shift, you ran down to the harbor.”

It’s not what I expected him to say. Although I don’t know what I expected. My forehead creases as I stare at him. “Yes.”

Callan takes another, small step in my direction. “I followed you, you know.”

My hand reaches for the edge of the barrel. Grips it. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks flush, darkening to a deep red that spreads across the top of his defined cheekbones.

It makes him look younger. “I left Merrick, and I followed you. I wanted to do something. One small thing, so it mattered that we had tried at all. We had been too late, but you were still there. So I followed, to try to make sure you’d be safe. ”

The air squeezes from my lungs. My lips part. “You were at the dock?”