Page 46 of Storm of Stars (Pride of Praxis #2)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Bex

It had been a week since Praxis fell, and every day without word from Ava or Jax was like another stone added to the weight already pressing on my chest. Each hour stretched endlessly, tight with the ache of not knowing.

My Wildguard had been doing their best. Hovering close, filling the silence with warmth and laughter and sensual touches, trying to draw my mind away from the gnawing uncertainty.

But nothing could erase the cold truth that every night I went to bed without knowing if they were safe.

I startled awake, breath ragged, sweat cooling on my skin like guilt. My heart thundered, desperate and wild, as if trying to punch its way out of my chest.

Then, hands. Soft, familiar hands finding mine in the dark, grounding me like always.

Briar.

She eased me back down with a touch that had always meant safety, her fingers combing gently through my hair.

“Another nightmare?” she asked, her voice hushed with sleep and concern.

I nodded, my body sinking into the mattress beside hers. “Yeah,” I whispered. My voice felt raw. “It’s been a week, Briar.”

“I know,” she said, stroking my cheek with a featherlight touch that somehow held me together.

“What if they’re not okay?” I asked, the words escaping before I could stop them. I hated giving shape to that fear. Hated how it lived in the corners of my mind, just waiting to come to the light.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she traced the edge of my jaw with her fingertip, letting the quiet settle.

Finally, she spoke. “I have to believe they’re okay,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “I can’t imagine we fought our way through everything… just to lose them now.”

I nodded, because I felt the same. Because if I didn’t hold onto that belief, I would unravel.

She slid her hand over my heart, her palm flat and warm against my chest. “Do you feel them here?” she asked.

I closed my eyes, breathing into her touch. And I did. Always had. As if somewhere, deep inside me, invisible threads still tied us together.

“I do,” I said.

“Then they’re okay,” she said, with a certainty I didn’t have but wanted so desperately to borrow. “You’d know if they weren’t. You’d feel the absence.”

I swallowed hard, letting the silence settle again. Letting her belief wrap around me like a blanket.

“I want to believe that,” I whispered.

She kissed the space just above my heart and rested her head against my shoulder. “Then hold onto it. Just a little longer.”

We stayed curled together in the hush of the morning, our bodies twined, our breaths falling into rhythm like the quietest song.

The soft orange light of dawn filtered in through the window, casting long golden stripes across the bed, warming our skin in patches.

Time seemed to slow, just for us, in the stillness of that early hour.

“I love you, Briar,” I whispered, my voice low, reverent.

She turned her head, her sleepy eyes finding mine, and I leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were warm and familiar, home. I lingered there, then pulled away just enough to speak again. “I have something for you,” I said, the words brushing against her mouth.

Her brows lifted slightly in curiosity as I slipped out from beneath the covers, the chill of the air stark compared to the warmth we’d just shared.

I padded across the floor and opened the closet, heart thudding a little faster.

It had taken days to make it back to the cabin where we’d hidden during the Run.

By some miracle, it had remained mostly untouched, one small pocket of peace spared from the chaos.

I reached inside and gently took hold of the neck of the guitar. My fingers curled around the worn wood, familiar and solid. I turned, cradling it like something sacred as I walked back toward her.

Briar had sat up, the sheets falling loose around her hips. Her bare shoulders caught the sunlight, and her hair spilled over her back like a curtain of ink. When she saw what I held, her lips parted in a soft gasp.

“You went and got the guitar?” she breathed, her voice trembling slightly as her eyes shimmered with sudden tears.

“Of course I did,” I said, kneeling before her. “I couldn’t bear the thought of a world without your music. I hope I never have to go a single day without hearing your voice again.”

Her eyes met mine, wide and shining with so much love it almost undid me. She took the guitar from my hands with a tenderness so beautiful. She traced her fingers over the curves of the wood like she was memorizing it all over again, then carefully set it beside her on the bed.

Without a word, she reached for me, tugging gently until I climbed into her lap, straddling her.

Her arms circled my waist and she tucked her face against my chest like she was trying to crawl into my heartbeat.

I held her close, one hand stroking through the silky waves of her hair, the other curled around her back, anchoring us in this moment.

She tilted her head up slightly, her lips brushing my skin. “Your heartbeat,” she whispered, “it’s like the steady beat to my favorite song.”

Then our lips met. And this kiss was anything but lazy. There was a fire behind it. A passion. A song. I wanted to sing with her forever.

She guided my body like it was an instrument she knew by heart, her hands firm on my hips, gathering the fabric of my nightdress until it was bunched around my waist. Slowly, deliberately, she drew my body closer to hers until I felt the warmth of her press against mine.

A gasp slipped from my lips as I sank into the rhythm she set, my core brushing against hers. “Briar…,” I sighed, voice shaking as it fell into the space between us.

Her grip tightened, and she pulled me closer still, brushing her nose along my jaw as she spoke, breathless and low. “That’s it, beautiful,” she murmured, voice like velvet. “Just like that.”

Each word ignited a spark deep within, every shift of her hands a reminder that she knew every part of me, where to guide, where to tease, how to draw out the ache until it shimmered between us.

At that moment, nothing else existed. Not the world beyond these walls, not the weight we’d been carrying.

Just this — her hands, her voice, and the slow, consuming song.

“Come for me,” she demanded in a soft, delicious whisper. Her fingers dug into my hips as we picked up the pace, our bodies chasing the euphoric friction. I bucked against her with wild abandon, her pupils were blown as her own climax crested.

“Oh my god, Briar,” I cried out as my orgasm slammed into me, she didn’t let my body's convulsions slow our rhythm, her hands pulled my hips against her as she pressed up against me.

I felt the heat of her core as she slid against me, and I felt mind numbingly weightless as she moved my body where she needed it.

As I sank down from the mountaintop of my climax, I felt Briar reach her own.

Her gaze was fixed to mine, burning bright as a trail of curses tumbled from her lips.

Her hands, still tight on my hips, stilled completely, yet the pressure remained.

I pulled her closer, looping my arms around the curve of her neck as she buried her face in the warmth of my chest. Her breath was soft and hot against my skin, and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her as we came down together.

Time stretched languid and slow until our breathing settled, until the world felt quiet and whole. Our grip on each other softened, but we didn’t move apart. Not yet. Not when every beat of her heart pressed against mine felt like its own music.

I smiled down at her, brushing my fingers through the tangled threads of her hair, tucking a loose strand behind the delicate curve of her ear.

Her eyes rose to meet mine, and in that moment I was lost. Captured by the depth and warmth in those amber depths.

I watched her as she watched me, and felt myself fill with a quiet, unshakable awe.

This was Briar. The brave one, the tender one. The one who carried songs like sparks in her chest. And in that still space between breaths, I felt the love settle in my bones.

Knock. Knock.

The rap at the door came only a second before it was pushed open. Zaffir, Ezra, and Thorne spilled into the room. I was still tangled in the sheets with Briar when I yanked the comforter over both of us, and Briar launched a pillow across the room.

“Get out!” she yelled as Zaffir caught it midair, grinning.

Thorne slapped a hand over his own eyes and nearly bumped into Ezra’s back as he came to a halt.

I giggled at the scene, brushing hair out of my eyes, until I noticed the expressions on their faces. The humor drained from my body instantly. Whatever this was, it was serious.

“What is it?” I said sharply, rising to my feet and pulling the comforter tighter around myself.

Zaffir stepped closer, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They’re here,” he said.

My breath caught in my throat. “They’re… alive?”

He nodded, and suddenly it felt like the air had been ripped from the room. Tears blurred my vision, and before I could think, I was bolting toward the door.

Ezra’s hands caught me mid-sprint. I spun on him, fiery and desperate. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

He met my stare, soft and knowing. “You might want to get dressed first,” he said quietly, brushing a glance down at the thin nightdress I was wearing.

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I gave a quick, breathless laugh as I nodded. “Right,” I said, brushing away the sting of impatient tears. I pulled a casual dress from a nearby chair and shrugged into it with shaking hands, my heart beating wildly.

Then I was moving, flying down the hallway, bare feet skimming across the floor. I could hear them behind me — the others falling in step — but all I could focus on was the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. The air felt charged. The world felt brighter, electric.