Page 24

CHAPTER 24

E irik

I wake to the gentle pulse of crystal light filtering through the walls, casting a soft glow across our bed. Sasha lies curled against my chest, her breath steady and warm on my skin. The rhythm of her heartbeat matches the quiet hum of the living crystals surrounding us.

My fingers trace the curve of her spine, memorizing every detail. How can one be so strong and so fragile at the same time? I cannot recall anything after I passed out in the transport, but I do know that she never gave up on me.

My chest tightens as I study her features. This small, fierce human who fought her way through life, who survived the brutal streets of Tartarus as an orphan, who chose to stay with me when she could have run. When by all reasons, she should have run. She didn’t. She stayed by my side against reason, hope, and her better judgment.

The strength inside her tiny frame amazes me. Never before did I meet anyone with such steel in their spine, such quicksilver intelligence in their eyes. Such bravery that it’s almost foolish.

Sasha shifts slightly, burrowing closer. Her dark hair spills across my arm like silk, and I brush a wayward strand from her face. The morning light catches the delicate arch of her cheekbone, the luscious curve of her lips. She looks so peaceful, I’m reluctant to pull her back to reality.

A faint smile curves her lips as she sleeps, and I wonder what dreams fill her mind. My fingers ghost over her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin against my callused hand.

So long, I have been alone. So long that my heart shriveled and my mind became a weapon. But with Sasha at my side, I feel it grow again, like a desert plant, dried and believed dead until water gives it life again.

Reborn. I feel reborn.

“Wake up, little thief,” I whisper.

Her eyelids flutter, and I hold my breath as consciousness returns to her features. Dark eyes meet mine, still hazy with sleep, then brighten with recognition. The smile that spreads across her face strikes me like a physical blow. No one has ever looked at me that way before, with such open trust and affection.

“Good morning,” I whisper, my voice rougher than intended. My thumb traces the curve of her jaw, delighting in the delicate bone structure beneath her skin.

Sasha nuzzles into my palm, her lips brushing against my wrist. “Morning.” Her voice carries the remnants of sleep, soft and intimate in the crystal-lit chamber.

The living walls pulse with gentle light, casting rainbow reflections across her pale skin. She fits perfectly against me, her curves aligned with my hardness as if crafted for this purpose. The thought sends a surge of possessive pride through my chest.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask, drinking in the sight of her tousled hair and sleep-flushed cheeks.

“Better than I have in years.” She stretches, catlike and graceful, before pushing herself up to sit. The sheet pools around her waist, and my eyes trace the feminine curves of her body. Even in this relaxed state, she ignites lust inside my veins like heat from the desert sand.

The peaceful moment hangs between us, precious and fragile. There’s so much we don’t have time to say, so much we can’t say, perhaps. I reach for her hand, entwining our fingers.

“So, what now? If we go back to Tartarus, we’ll have Sargul’s men on our tails and Lady Ozura right in front of us.” Sasha’s voice is light, but there’s a fear there I’ve never heard from her before.

“There’s no way out of this.” She shifts in my arms, turning to face me. “Maybe we should just stay here.” Her fingers trace abstract patterns on my chest and her eyes are vague when she speaks again. “No more fighting. No more running. Just… peace.”

I take her hand in mine, weaving our fingers together, marveling at how small and delicate her hand looks against mine. Perfect. She completes me so perfectly, it tears my heart to shreds. I press my lips to her forehead, reveling in the softness of her skin. She leans into the kiss with a faint sigh that makes my heart clench.

The suggestion tugs at something deep in my chest. The thought of a peaceful life with her, away from intrigue and violence, beckons to me like a mirage. But it’s exactly that. A mirage. There is no escaping the violence that is coming, no hiding from it, either. We have to fight for the life we want to live, or die trying.

I don’t need to tell her that. Her large, dark velvet eyes fill with water and the smile on her plump lips rips a hole in my chest like a stab wound.

“We can’t.” Her voice breaks. “I know.”

She trails off, and I feel her body nestling closer.

“There’s nowhere to hide. Not from this.”

I cradle her delicate face in my large palms, meeting those dark eyes that hide a strength I never expected.

“As long as I have breath in my lungs, I will keep you safe,” I say, my voice strong and even. The voice of a warrior. “I will not only fight for my people, but for you. So I can give you the life you deserve. A new life for both of us. But none of that is possible if the Empire gets their hands on the power of the Soul Stones.”

She nods, her features serious. We get dressed in silence, savoring the remnants of the peace we shared. I pause at the threshold of the guest house, taking in the breathtaking vista of the Huugwor village. The diffused, low light of the early morning casts a soft glow on the still empty streets, but here and there in the obsidian houses, signs of life begin as households wake.

A stab of pain shoots through me like every time I gaze at a peaceful village like this one. Like the one who saw my birth. The one where my heart lay, dead and dry after the Empire’s attack.

Then Sasha’s small hand slips into mine, and I look down to see the awe on her features. The dry husk of my heart hums with desire to grow, to embrace joy and life once more. Half of me wants to smother this urge, to kill it in its infancy.

The other half wants to nurture it back to its former self. To feel again what it means to have a home, to have a family.

We walk through the sleeping village in silence. Most people are still asleep, but those that are not are watching, their eyes on us as we make our way through the side streets and out of view. Then we stand on the sand, the rising suns casting a pink glow on the endless lands without water. I help Sasha get into the transport and go to join her when a noise attracts my attention.

I turn to see the Elder walk outside. I frown, searching for his bodyguards, but he is alone. The Elder approaches us, his ancient form moving with slow, painful motions. His pale eyes lock onto mine, wisdom etched in every line of his face. From within his robes, he withdraws something that makes my breath die in my chest.

The Soul Stone glows faintly in his bony fingers, round and shiny. I don’t need to ask him to know where it comes from. This is a soul from my village. The Soul Stone of one of my own people, my own blood.

Emotions coil under the surface, just beyond my reach as I open my hand and the stone drops in my open palm.

“Do you know why I chose you for this mission, Eirik?” the Elder asks as I roll the stone between my fingers. Memories of home flood my senses, all those faces that are only alive inside of my mind. Their names crowd my brain and I’m left feeling both full and unbearably empty.

“Because I have nothing and no one to lose.” Saying it out loud hurts more than it should. More than I thought it would.

The Elder’s lips lift in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I chose you because you know loss more than even myself.” He speaks with a voice as strong as a young warrior’s and I can feel his gaze deep in my soul. Seeing things normal eyes cannot. “And because you know loss, Eirik, you know the value of life. Only one who lost so much understands how important it is to preserve what we have. Not only for our people, but for all those living on Valcan. The time has come, my child, that we rise from the sands and wipe the Empire clean off our lands.”

“But we have stayed away from the Empire for hundreds of years,” I protest, my mind refusing to accept his words. “We have a truce.”

He nods and there’s a glint of the warrior he once was in his gaze.

“We have a truce with the enemy, yes.” He inclines his head and turns his gaze to the rising suns. The pink color of the sky reflects on his pale irises and he never looked more like a phantom to me than he does now. “But we have no peace. Our enemy plots and will not stop until we crush them. It is time. Go back to Tartarus and destroy those who want to threaten the alliance. Then the souls of your ancestors can walk beside you again.”

His gaze shifts to Sasha, then back to me. There’s knowledge in his weathered features, like he is not only a man, but many. In a sense, he is, since he has already lived many lifetimes.

“Your blood flows strong, and it will flow stronger still in the veins of your children.”

Then he turns away, his frail frame leaning on the crystal cane, soon swallowed by the stone. As the stone closes without a noise behind him, I understand he is right.

For so long, my people stayed on the edge of war. Safe in their caves, fighting back only when the Empire’s hunger for power crawled too close.

But true peace will only be possible if the Empire’s greed is wiped clean off the surface of the planet. Until not even the ruins of their cities persists.

As I climb in the transport next to her, Sasha’s eyes meet mine. For her as much as for myself, I will fight.

Or die trying.