Starwalker (Starborn 1) (Sci-Fi Fantasy Romance) (5 page)

Her eyes grew wide of their own accord, and she went limp with shock, as she stood before him… her
Heartbeat
. Her wren. The one made for her to love. The one meant to love her back. Her mate.

She had a mate.

Someone to share her hopes and dreams with. Someone to share life with. She’d never be alone again.

Canna forgot to breathe, her air stalling in her chest, before racing to catch up. All the while, the wren stared at her with a careful expression.

She should say something. At least to hide the astonishment that she couldn’t deny. Hiding her feelings was second nature to Canna and just because her heart was beating didn’t change that. Not yet anyway.

“I… can’t… I…”

Her words failed her.
Try again
.

“You… your… heart beats?”

He nodded, his face so intent on hers that she had the most compelling urge to run away. And that was crazy because Canna
never
ran away. It was her rule number one.

He took one step closer; she took one step back. They moved in harmony.

“I am…
yours
,” he said.

His tone made her think he knew just how utterly shocked she was. Maybe he could see it in her eyes.

“It was you, Cannalise, who made my heart beat.”

She shook her head, trying to make sense of his words. “When? Did we meet? I don’t know you.”

He looked at the ground. At his hands.

“I first saw you…” His voice went thin and he cleared his throat gruffly. “It was when you were eight lightyears-old. You were at Ula’s kafé. We didn’t meet but… but my heart started beating for you that day.”

Eight … years… old…

She was one thousand and twelve years old this day.

Canna went dizzy. The kind of dizzy where you get confused about which is the sky or the ground, the floor or the ceiling. 

“One thousand years?”

“One thousand and four,” he corrected.

For a thousand years her Heartbeat had known who she was. Known where to find her. Known that she was his. A thousand years had passed. A thousand years they could’ve been together. And yet…

He’d…
avoided
her. Stayed away. Didn’t want her. Of course he didn’t. No one else wanted her either. She was hard and cold and mean. What did she expect?

She’d expected to never find her mate, that’s what. She’d never cared what people thought because she’d expected to remain alone until her dying day.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the anguish from leeching onto her face. She ached so bad inside it felt like carving blades imbedded in her chest.

The Fates had it wrong. All wrong.

Breckken reached for her, looking worried. “Canna?”

She lurched backward and tripped over an ice sculpture, tumbling to the frozen ground and dropping the arrow.

“Canna!” he cried and bent to help her up, but she threw both hands out to fend him off.

“
No
!” she said, shaking her head viciously. “Stay away from me. Stay back!”

By the time she hauled herself off the ground she was horrified to feel the liquid seeping from her eyes. She was crying. Just perfect. She swiped at the wetness with quick, angry movements.

“My Canna,” he breathed. “My maiden. What is it? Why do you cry?”

“I’m not… not crying. And I’m
not
your maiden. I am nobody’s but my own.”

His eyes were strangely pleading and concerned. But it didn’t matter to her. It was clear he was only there now because he had to be. He’d put it off a thousand years and now he was likely heartsick. That would explain his sudden appearance.

Whatever. He would get over it. Without her.

“Please, talk to me. Let me make it better. I want to make it better for you.”

She dug deep and found the shattered pieces of her mask, connected them like a jigsaw puzzle, and then put it back in place. The tears dried up. The anguish disappeared. What remained was chilly and brittle.

“You can’t make it better,” she spat.

He put his hand to his heart and rubbed in a tight circle.

“I would do anything,
anything
to ease you now. Just tell me what you need and you shall have it.”

“Now. Yes,
now
. I don’t need anyone to ease me. I can do that myself—been doing it for a thousand years.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I believe I should have killed you without asking questions.”

The wren’s mouth hung open and somehow she knew she’d cut him deeply. And maybe she was evil inside, but it made her happy to know she’d hurt him as he’d hurt her.

“You… you can’t mean that.”

“I never say things I don’t mean. It’s a waste of time.”

Just like hope.

She was what she was. Her life was her life. There was no changing it. No Heartbeat, no friend, no enemy would alter Canna’s circumstances.

But she’d survive this heartache. Exhale it like a poison gas, and be thankful she’d only felt fond feelings for a moment, on the inhale.

***

Something was wrong. So very wrong. Breckken knew his maiden was rough around the edges, a thorny rose. He knew their first meeting would be a bit unorthodox. But he’d hoped she would at least feel
something
for him. Even if it was just curiosity.

I love you
. Breckken ached with the need to tell her. Their situation wasn’t normal. He wasn’t coming to her with a newly beating heart. It wasn’t mere attraction for him. As she’d grown over the years, so had his feelings for her. The years of separation had taken their toll on him, but they’d also given him love so strong, he could hardly bear to keep it in.

But he couldn’t say it. She didn’t know him. Didn’t feel for him. She couldn’t understand.

I love you so much, my Canna
.
I want to hold you so fucking badly.
His limbs shook from the effort of restraining himself. He wanted to shelter her in his embrace. Growl at whatever made her weep. Fight it back until she was herself again.

Was she scared of this union? Could that be it? She was the bravest maiden he knew, so he’d never considered it.

“Perhaps…” He cleared his throat to rid it of the sound of devastation. “Perhaps you need time to think—”

“You are to leave my property immediately. If I ever see you again, I will kill you without thought.”

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to want him back. She’d been his whole life for a thousand years.

But he couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.

Her face was so cold. Hard. She was so much like the ice. But he knew it wasn’t real. Only seconds ago she’d cried tears. She’d looked confused and pained. She’d looked… small, for the first time ever. Even as a childmaiden she’d appeared larger than life. But moments ago she’d seemed fragile. Spun glass needing to be handled with the utmost care.

“Canna…”

She calmly bent and retrieved the ice arrow from the cold ground, twirling it like a baton through her slender fingers while she eyed him.

“You would murder your own Heartbeat?” he whispered.

She raised one blond eyebrow. “You think I won’t? Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

He was a man ripped apart in that moment. She cared nothing for him. Not even enough to spare herself the physical pain she would endure with the death of her mate. Maybe she wasn’t capable of love. He’d always thought once they met and he could show her what it felt like to be cherished and never alone… He’d thought it would be enough.

But maybe he was wrong. Perhaps she couldn’t be fixed. Maybe a thousand years of being hated had done too much damage.

Breckken saw all the things he should’ve done different. He’d waited too long. He should’ve ignored fate and came to her sooner.

He fisted his desperate hands. His maiden, within reach, but he couldn’t have her. Couldn’t help her. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Couldn’t let her see.

My Cannalise
.

He needed to make her understand.

“But you are… everything to me,” he said on a shaky exhale. “How can you not even give us a chance?”

She shrugged casually. “Easy. Don’t need you. You should have tried a few years ago. Maybe then… but no, probably not even then.”

Cold. Frigid. Distant. She held no kernel of feeling for him.

How unfair destiny was to them. How unjust their fortune.

“Now, are you leaving or are you dying?”

Dying
, he thought.

But he couldn’t do that. Who would keep her safe from the Helix? Whether she let him love her or not, didn’t matter. He needed to protect her. If not her heart, then her body, her life.

Somehow he managed to turn and walk away. As he left Canna behind, he realized it was still a death, if not a physical one. Because another thousand years without her wouldn’t really be living anyway.

Chapter Five

Canna watched with an odd detachment as Breckken walked away. Disconnected, as if she were watching the scene from above.

When he was gone, she finally let out a shuddering breath. Trying to stem the shivers that overtook her body, she wrapped her arms around her middle.

Yes, this was how it always was for her. She comforted herself. Defended herself. Cared for herself under Rowene’s watchful eye. Kept herself from falling apart when things got too hard. Thus it was and thus it had been for all her existence.

What she’d told him was true. She
didn’t
need him. She didn’t need anybody and she’d long ago proven that fact.

Her hand went to her chest. The pumping underneath the skin was foreign to her… but not unpleasant.

Her heart was beating. Unbelievable.

She wasn’t worried about people noticing. They
would
notice, of course. But they wouldn’t dare say a word to her about it. Row would ask. But when Canna made it clear that it wasn’t up for discussion, Row would drop it like the burning ember it was. There would be talk around town, people speculating about who the unlucky wren was. But that didn’t bother her either.

Wait. That did bother her.

When a Star Dweller met their Heartbeat, it was practically a done deal. The Fates were not very often wrong about such matches. So to know that her mating was one of those very rare failed matings was just another kick in the gut. Another thing to alienate her from the crowd. And for them to know that her Heartbeat didn’t want her… well, that
did
bother her.

He was the single person designed to want her. And even he didn’t.

Canna tucked the ice arrow into her robe and started walking. She never went out without her bow and quiver, but it was in the castle and she wanted to avoid seeing Row.

The streets of the city were mostly empty since it was nearing dark, but not completely. So she assumed her normal authoritative gait. She must appear strong for they would all soon know of her new unfortunate circumstances.

As she walked, she tried not to berate herself for who she was. She’d made it a rule long ago, to never apologize for the things that made her different. But right now she was finding it hard not to blame herself.

She relaxed as she neared the fountain. Time for some therapy.

At the bench, she retrieved her file from the pocket of her robe, but before she could begin, something caught her eye.

Bending low, Canna squinted. There, frozen to the slick stone ground, were three purple-red drops. Blood?

Her gaze snapped up, scanning the shadows. No one was around.

Why was there spilled blood near this bench? Perhaps someone had been hurt. Most people she didn’t care about but… what if it was an innocent? A child?

She turned in a full circle, scanning, letting all her senses go to work. She felt nothing out of the ordinary. Saw nothing but ice and the river. The bridge and the fountain. Buildings in the distance. Shadows that were still as her heart had been that morning.

Sure that there was no danger, she lowered herself to the bench, gathered her thoughts, and began carving.

The hush came quickly, rushing over her in warm waves. It was strange, but sometimes when she was carving she could imagine she was someone else, somewhere else, far away from everything she knew and everyone who knew her.

It was a nice feeling.

In fact, it was so good that when she’d finished, she decided to carve another word. After all, she had a lot of different feelings to choose from. She could probably do twenty and still not purge herself of it all.

Finished with her second carving, she sat back and examined her work. It was sort of beautiful, the whole bench. They were just words but… she’d put a lot of time into them. The bench was a record of her life, she guessed. At least the emotional parts, the secret parts.

A drop of water hit the frozen slab. Then another.

She was crying again. How disappointing.

It seemed to come on without warning. No strangled feeling afore hand. No tell-tale stinging behind her eyes. It was just there, liquid seeping from her lids.

She dried the unwanted tears with the sleeve of her robe. Just in time too.

“Canna? Are you well?”

She jumped at the sound of Emmalyn’s gentle voice.

“Oh. Yes. I’m… perfectly well.” Canna stood, stepping away from the bench and tucking the file in the folds of her robe so Emma wouldn’t see it. She stared past Canna to the bench, her eyes touching on the haunting record of words.

Canna turned her gaze to the fountain to avoid facing Emma. Moments later, the maiden stepped up beside the bubbling water.

“I was just on my way to the café. I figured you’d be heading in that direction soon. Would you care to walk with me?”

Clearly she didn’t know Canna was no longer allowed at Ula’s.

“Ula asked me to cease my visits,” she said simply, as if it was nothing to her.

“She did?”

Canna nodded.

“Why ever would she do that? I’m sure you’re mistaken.” Emma’s voice was all no-nonsense. And now Canna would have to explain.

Keeping her face clear of emotion she said, “I am bad for business. The kafé is losing customers because of my visits.”

Emma’s face scrunched in confusion. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

Canna added nothing, and waited for her to leave. But Emma continued to stare at the gurgling spring of water.

“So will you return home then?”

Home was the last place Canna wanted to be but she had nothing to do and nowhere else to go.

“Yes.”

“Very well. I’ll walk with you.” Canna stared, not sure she’d heard her right. But Emma smiled warmly. “Come now.”

Okay.

Cannalise followed her across the slick stones and over the bridge.

When they were on the path leading to Canna’s castle Emma spoke up. “Do you know of a wren named Gilleth?”

“I have heard of his carving work.”

Emma nodded and smiled. Said nothing more.

Curiosity made Canna push. “Why do you inquire?”

Emmalyn shrugged, eyes steady on the ground. “He comes to Ula’s a lot.”

That didn’t explain anything.

They walked further, passing several wrens hurrying home.

“I like him,” Emma murmured.

Ahh. But why was she telling Cannalise this?

“I like him a lot.”

“Have you formally met?”

She nodded sadly. “Many years ago. I am not his.”

Canna had no words for the maiden. Should she dare attempt to… comfort her? She didn’t know how to go about such a task.

“When he comes to the kafé, he refuses to look at me. Or speak to me. His friend always orders for him.”

“Is he mute perhaps?”

“Oh, no. We spoke when we first met. And he talks to others. So, that’s not the issue.”

“What do you think is the cause then?”

“I don’t know. But the strangest thing happened today. After he finished his meal, he lingered for some time. He just sat in the far corner of the kafé looking around. He hadn’t yet left when I went for break.” She shrugged. “He usually just eats and leaves.”

Canna said nothing as they walked. She knew not the workings of a wren’s mind. So she had no advice to offer. Plus, she didn’t
offer
advice. If she wanted to she would just
give
it.

Too soon, they reached the front gate of her castle.

“Well, here you are,” Emma said. “Thanks for talking with me.”

“Oh. Uh… okay.”

Emmalyn smiled, gave a little wave, and then turned back in the direction they came from. Canna watched her go, but then decided to secretly follow her back to Ula’s. Just to be sure the maiden was safe.

And perhaps also because she wasn’t ready to face Rowene.

***

Breckken watched Cannalise leave with Emma. He was glad she wasn’t alone tonight.

After their meeting, he’d followed her from her home to the fountain. It didn’t matter what she’d told him in the garden. He wasn’t leaving his mate unprotected. Especially when she might be in danger from the Helix.

He shivered, the chilly temperature of the city hitting him even deeper than usual.

When it was clear she was gone and not coming back, he emerged from his hiding place beneath the bridge. The swelling darkness had given him enough cover that Canna hadn’t seen him when she and Emma had crossed over it. She also hadn’t seen him when she’d first arrived. She’d found something on the ground that had seemed to alarm her…

As Breckken approached the bench he saw what it was. Drops of his blood from when he’d sliced the line in his arm. Perhaps he should be more careful with himself.

He straightened, his eyes purposely avoiding the bench. He didn’t want to look yet, didn’t want to know what she’d written there. Instead, he wandered the perimeter of the fountain, searching his surroundings for anything that seemed out of order.

All was well. Except within him. Inside, there was a storm brewing. How long could he hold it in? All the frustration and pain, it had been worth it when he knew he’d hold her some day. But now?

She’d cried again. He’d never seen her cry before this night and it cut him to the bone to think he might be the reason.

He reached out, running his hand under the spring of water that rushed into the basin. It was cold.

Canna had spent longer at the fountain tonight. Perhaps she was avoiding home.

He turned back to the bench and let his eyes roam over the crystalline seat. The word that stood out from among the rest, the newest one, was “Betrayed”.

Betrayed. She felt…
betrayed
.

But Breckken had
not
betrayed her. This must be about someone else. Was there another wren she wanted? He hadn’t noticed her attentions for any others. Maybe he hadn’t been looking for it though.

He began to get angry. He would fight any wren for her. She was his, had caused
his
heart to beat. That alone made her
his
.

Another word on the bench stood out to him. It was new.

Rejected

Rejected.

By everybody, he realized. Her whole life had been about rejection. A miracle it had taken this long for the word to find its way onto the bench. But why now?

Because she’d just experienced the ultimate rejection… the ultimate betrayal…

In a rush, he recalled the devastated look on her face when he’d told her his heart had been beating for a thousand years. Her dainty features had curled into a gruesome display of agony.

What had she been thinking in that moment? He’d been too caught up in their meeting to see it for what it was but… something had tormented her.

I would do anything,
anything
to ease you now,
he’d told her.

And what had she said?

I don’t need anyone to ease me. I can do that myself—been doing it for a thousand years.

Had she misunderstood his reasons for staying away all this time? He hadn’t done the best job explaining himself. Had he ever really gotten to the
why
of it?

She was feeling betrayed and rejected because of him, because he’d waited so long to confront her.

Surely she knew he would’ve come to her if he could have. Right? He’d wanted to so many times, but he hadn’t wanted to risk their future.

Oh, fates.

Fuck.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

Why hadn’t he explained himself? He was supposed to make her feel better, not worse. Never worse.

Slowly, bile rising in his throat, he rolled up both sleeves of his tunic. The scars of his own carving were a series of thin horizontal lines that were so close together they resembled a barcode running from his wrist to his shoulder. The ones closest to his wrist were more faded as they were older. Withdrawing his dagger, he started at the shoulder of his right arm and drew it down to his wrist, slashing through each of the thin marks he’d created over the last thousand and four years. He repeated the action on his left arm, making sure his blood fell into the fountain this time and not onto the ground.

Yes, the two newest additions to the bench deserved a special representation on his arms. Those two words were so much different than the others, because he had been the cause. Every other word on that bench was the result of somebody else’s carelessness. But not these last two. They were all on him.

He patted the blood dry with his kerchief, stuffed it in his pocket, and tugged his sleeves down.

He would go to her now. Find her, make her see why he’d stayed away. He didn’t care if she wanted to kill him. He couldn’t let her go on thinking he’d betrayed her. Or forbid, that he didn’t want her.