Starwalker (Starborn 1) (Sci-Fi Fantasy Romance) (9 page)

“I… I always wondered. But… no matter, okay? You owe me an answer. What’s happened with Ula?”

She eyed him. “I don’t know exactly. Call it a hunch. She seemed strange when I told her of the attack. I thought it would be safer for now if she didn’t know the Helix is involved.”

“Safer for who?”

“Emma. Everybody.”

Gill agreed.

“That’s all?”

Cannalise nodded.

Awkward silence fell between them. He wanted to leave, get back to Emma.

“Care for some advice?” Canna asked, and then she went ahead without waiting for him to answer. “Don’t ignore your heart because you are afraid of where it will lead you.” And then she turned and hurried away from him, leaving him standing open-mouthed in the cold.

Gill grunted. The maiden could stand to heed her own damn advice.

***

Emmalyn watched as Gilleth left with Canna. She wasn’t surprised. Not really. She’d expected him to leave without even a word. That was the kindest thing to happen when romantic advances were unwanted. Exit the situation with grace.

Logical, actually. Though it didn’t make it hurt any less.

But she and Gilleth were always meant to end up like this, their separate paths going parallel in the same direction. Destination: Not Together.

She absently rubbed at the pain in her chest as she set about steeping her tea. When she had a steamy mug full, she curled into the chair closest to the ket and farthest away from the door. With her back to the kitchen, she soaked up the warmth of the fire, willing the heat to seep into her bones and dry up the well of tears that had saturated her whole being.

For countless moments, she let her mind get lost in the dancing flames of the fire. They were beautiful with their yellow and purple tint converging to make another, unnamed color. Just stunning. And the ket, which was fashioned to produce heat according to need, was marvelous as well. Not in its looks but in its function. Together they performed a very necessary utility, but apart they were something different altogether.

This was why she and Gilleth would never have a chance. They were nothing together. Only apart were they who they were meant to be.

And the worst part was she knew her heart was lost to him. It didn’t beat but that didn’t seem to matter to the poor fool of an organ. And as for Gill, his heart belonged to some other maiden. Someone, who when one plus one came together, it would equal two, not zero. 

The door to the kitchen eased open. Must be Ula. Emma didn’t move from the fire. She was only now starting to feel the warmth. But she did wipe the stray tears from her face. Ula hated tears, had no tolerance for them. And crying over a wren was the ultimate mistake in her eyes.

Emmalyn pulled the fur throw tighter around her shoulders and tried not to shiver as a gust of arctic wind blasted through the small space. She sipped her tea, listening to the door click shut.

“Hope you didn’t turn away customers to close early,” Emma called out.

Heavy boots thudded across the hard floor and she stiffened. Those weren’t Ula’s.

Gilleth.

She didn’t want to face him again.

“You can go.” She kept her eyes on the flames as she spoke. “Ula will be here soon.”

The boots stopped behind her chair.

“I don’t want to go.”

Gill’s voice was like warm liquid, flowing over her, softening the chill that had set in her bones. But she couldn’t let herself get lost in the feeling. Couldn’t let herself pretend anymore that she could ever know what it would be like to be loved by him.

She was downright pitiful. A shame to her kind. The sort of female the Fates would despise. She must be stronger. Fiercer. Like Canna.

She cleared her throat, and came back with a voice that was solid. “I would request that you take your leave now for I am quite well. Safe. And as I said, Ula will arrive shortly.”

“Emmalyn…” He came around the chair and knelt in front of her so she was forced to look at him. “I didn’t know how you felt.”

“Would it have mattered?” She already knew the answer but it still stung when he remained silent. “It is as I thought.”

She glanced back to the fire because she couldn’t risk seeing pity in his eyes.

“Sweet Emma,” he whispered. “If you only knew…”

He reached up and slipped a lock of her multicolored hair between his thumb and forefinger. A sad laugh escaped him.

“Just as soft I thought it would be. This too,” he said after his hand traveled up to graze her cheek.

He’d never touched her like this. It made her chest ache with want.

When she finally let out a shaky breath and dared to meet his eyes—she couldn’t believe the look on his face. In truth, she didn’t believe it. Because she had never seen it before in all the many years she’d known him.

Desire. His face spoke of desire so intense it was nearly foreign to her. Nearly. But no, she knew that feeling.

And now she was thoroughly confused.

He seemed to be struggling with something, but then he gave up, and he took her hand, brought it to his chest. Held it there. Squeezed his eyes shut. Opened them again. And smiled the smallest, saddest expression.

“You are not the only one to suffer.”

Her breath froze in her chest. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… I’ve wanted you for so long, Emmalyn. How could I not? You are so tender of spirit and strong of character and such beauty I’ve never beheld, truly. From our first meeting you’ve belonged to my heart, even though the damn thing is a fool for not recognizing you.”

She was dreaming. That was the only way Gilleth the Ice Carver would say such beautiful words to her. But it was just as well. She’d welcome a sweet dream after the evening she’d endured.

Carry on, Fates. Carry on.

***

Emma blinked twice before her mouth did a little open and close action.

Gill knew he had stunned her.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured.

Now that it was out, he couldn’t stop himself from taking her face in his hands. He couldn’t help giving in to all the things he’d ached to do over the years. Cradle her cheek. Taste her lips. Press her body against his.

He’d do those things now. The truth would set them free.

“I have stayed away all this time because I know I am not your intended. Your heart does not beat for me, and I didn’t want to interfere with your future.”

She shook her head as his thumbs grazed her flushed cheeks. “This is… I am… what has changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“Tonight, I feared for your life.” He had to stop because he thought his voice might fail. He swallowed several times before he tried again. “I realized that after all this time, I could lose you. I could
lose
you when I never even had you. The thought is unbearable.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she blinked back more tears but he kept going.

“It just doesn’t matter to me anymore whether my heart beats or doesn’t. I can’t ignore this any longer. Especially when I know you feel the same. Time should not be wasted. No one is guaranteed another year, another day, another hour.”

He brushed her trembling lip with his thumb. Hot satin, that threatened to make him crumble.

“I don’t want to waste anymore time, Emma. Do you?”

He was a monster for asking. He should go away and leave her alone and never—

“No,” she breathed.

All was lost as he pulled her into his arms. Finally. And she fit against him like a glove.

As he held her, he was struck with a realization that shocked him to the core. Yet… in some ways it wasn’t a surprise: He would forsake his Heartbeat, his other half, his intended destiny, for the maiden that was before him. And he would do so without a second thought.

Because with or without a heartbeat, Emmalyn was his. His to keep and protect and love and make happy. Because that was what she wanted and therefore what she needed. And exactly what he would give her, for as many days as destiny would allow.

He kissed the top of her head, sinking into her blond and red streaked hair, and breathed her in.
This feels right, so damn right.

That was the last thought that ran through his mind before an angry explosion rocked the house.

Chapter Eight

Canna went straight home. She didn’t go to the bridge to meet the wren, and she didn’t feel bad about it. Really. It served him right, trying to keep tabs on her. He didn’t
own
her.

He was nothing to her. And if she had to make that her new mantra, to get the point across to her heart, then she would.

When she reached the door of her castle, she couldn’t make herself go inside. Whether it was because she wanted to avoid Rowene or that she was still fidgety from the attack, something had her turning to leave.

As Canna slipped back through the gates to wander the streets, her thoughts unwillingly went to Breckken. She doubted he’d leave her alone unless she went to the bridge. He might even come to her dwelling, looking for her. Which could be a disaster. What if he spoke to Row or one of the attendants. Canna certainly wished to put off the announcement of her active heart as long as she could. But maybe if she assured him this one last time that she was fine and well and did not need him, he would go his own way.

She wandered the streets while she tried to come to a decision she could live with.

Better to just go, and be done with him for good. Yes, what the wren needed was resolution so he could move on without her.

Canna absorbed the chill of the air as she made her way toward the fountain. The bridge was just beyond. She couldn’t see the wren. Maybe he had left. Perhaps her journey to the fountain was unnecessary after all. To be able to return home without dealing with him would be—

Then she saw him, pacing frantically back and forth between the bridge and the fountain. His gait was quick and restless, hands in his hair, grabbing and pulling, looking completely distraught.

She took note of his robe. It was open and flowing behind him as he walked. Unlike her own, his was sturdy and lined with a thick fur. No doubt to accommodate his need for warmth. She had no such need, and her robe, although it was long and had sleeves, was made of thin wispy material and decorated with crystals. The only similarity between them at all was their boots, made of thick leather and fur with metal studs on the soles for walking on the ice.

And their fighting abilities. The wren was quite skilled, but Canna imagined she could best him.

She stayed back behind a pillar of ice and took her time watching him. It only seemed smart to learn all she could about the wren. The better to deter him.

She knew of his Guardship and that he wasn’t from the frozen city, but now she was noticing details. Like the hair that was just long enough to cover his neck—just long enough to cover her name—was the exact color of caramel. His jaw was square, and clenched at the moment. He was extremely tall, maybe six eight, and more muscular than most wrens. It made sense. Only the strongest and most cunning were accepted as guardsmen. Canna had wanted to join, but royals were
never
accepted. No matter how appropriate they were for the position.

The wren looked extremely troubled, and she wondered if something had happened with Ula. Curiosity more than anything was what pulled her forward. If there was some news about the Helix or if Ula was in trouble, then she needed to know.

Carefully ignoring the bench where she liked to carve, she came up behind him as he was pacing in the opposite direction, his back to her.

Ice crunched under her boots and he snapped his head around. The look on his face was indescribable. In the way that air is indescribable or the color white. There just weren’t adequate words. Or maybe it was that there were too many words. Like frustration, relief, anxiety, fear, sadness, joy, and anger… just to name a few.

Time seemed to halt for a moment… and then he was coming at her, all ferocity and purpose. She readied herself. If he meant to hit her—

He embraced her full on, his huge body dwarfing hers as his arms banded around her. He squeezed tight and Canna felt her feet come off the ground. She was so completely taken off guard that she could do nothing.

His mouth crashed down on hers, his full lips desperate and plying for her to open. And fates help her, she did. As his tongue delved in, meeting her cautious one, she didn’t know how to react.

Fighting, she knew. Hitting, punching, kicking, even cross words she knew. But a… kiss? Utterly foreign.

He explored her mouth like it held the answer to any question. Like it was his to explore, to claim. He tasted harsh and sweet at the same time, his mouth so hot against hers, it was fire on ice. It was better than any dream she’d conjured in secret. It was better than anything she’d ever known, in her many years.

Her first kiss.

With her wren.

It was… sublime. Her body relished it even though her mind grappled for the truths of their dilemma. He’d abandoned her. Left her on her own for so many years, when she should have had a mate to turn to for comfort.

Breckken broke away, breath raking in and out of his chest.

“I was so worried.” His voice came out choppy and rough as he stared down at her.

Too close. Too much. She couldn’t hold on to her mask. She wanted free of it, but being exposed left her open to injury. She couldn’t take that chance. Not with him. Not when he’d already hurt her so much.

“Are you alright? Did something happen? What kept you, my maiden?” His eyes roamed her face searching for any clue to her tardiness.

“I am fine. Let me go.”

He didn’t though, and she started to panic. Her arms were trapped by his, so she couldn’t push at his chest. Suspended in the air, she kicked her feet but he didn’t seem to notice at all.

“I cannot. Dear fates… I cannot.” He shuddered, burying his face against her neck.

His reaction was completely absurd. But…

They were so close. The way he held her, she hadn’t been this close to another since she was a mere babe. Rowene had never held her. Neither had any other.

In that moment, she realized this wren could be the one to take her down. He could ruin her so completely that she wouldn’t survive it. And all because she’d never trained against this type of assault. Against
affection
.

“Let me go.
Now
.”

He squeezed tighter. As if his arms refused to submit to her will. “Yes. Okay. I will.”

But he didn’t. She struggled in earnest now, and he forced himself away. He turned from her, his hands on his hips, head bowed to the ground, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs.

Canna straightened her robes. Brushing a finger over her lips, she checked to see if they were still intact. They felt so different now. Almost foreign.

“Where were you?” His hard voice snapped at the night, making her bristle.

“None of your business.”

“You promised you’d meet me in an hour. It’s been nearly two.” He still didn’t look at her.

“Well, I’m here and I’m fine, and I’m leaving.”

His head came up fast and she saw that his green eyes were shining. Were there tears in them? Tears because of her? No. She must be wrong.

“Let me walk you home.”

“There is no need for that.”

He came to stand in front of her, and up close, the traces of wetness were evident.

“You scared me, Canna. Had me nearly crazed. And I am asking you, please, let me take you home.” As he spoke he seemed to go from frazzled to angry. And well… he was perhaps just a little intimidating when he was like that.

But the day had been long and weary and she couldn’t bear to be talked to anymore. Couldn’t bear listening to more of his excuses. Couldn’t bear anymore contact. Period.

She needed time to work out what had happened between them this night.

“Fine. On one condition. You don’t speak to me on the way there. You don’t touch me, and you leave as soon as I am safely inside.”

His face turned hard, his mouth forming a grim slash. But he nodded, agreeing to her terms.

Canna turned without checking to see if he followed. She went quickly through the streets, ready to be in her bed, ready to escape. She made it to her castle in record time and went through the gates, all without looking back to see if the wren was with her. When she climbed the steps to the front entrance though, she heard his boots echo behind hers.

He was seeing her all the way to the door.

As she pulled the latch to open it, she meant to walk right in and leave Breckken in the cold without even a glance. But somehow she couldn’t. She needed to read his expression one more time. Had to be sure the determination she’d felt from his kiss was real.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw sadness, pure and undiluted. Deep sorrow, the emotion she knew well.

She had to really work to ignore it, and go inside. But that’s exactly what she did. She took the back staircase to her room to avoid running into anybody. Shut away, safe from the others of the house, she found herself drawn to the window. Looking down, she watched as her wren walked slowly away, keeping his end of the deal.

The vision gave her a curious mix of relief and disappointment. Would she ever know her own feelings again?

***

It took every particle of strength within Breckken to walk away from Cannalise. But he did. Somehow. And as he went from her property into the street, he was a tangle of emotions he couldn’t sort out. He wanted to scream, laugh, sob, and hit something all at the same time. He settled for kicking a loose chunk of ice that was in his path. It shattered on impact.

Breckken had been overcome when Canna finally arrived at the bridge. She’d been over half an hour late and he’d convinced himself a quarter of the way in, that danger had befallen his maiden. The only thing that kept him from searching the city for her was the niggling little thought that maybe she’d been held up for some reason.

So he’d waited. And worried. And cursed. And paced. Until his chest began to ache. The pains were purely physical and the likes of which he’d never before felt. They were worrisome.

Then suddenly there she was. Safe and sound before him. With no excuse to lend.

She’d never intended to meet him at the bridge. He was certain of it. Why she’d changed her mind, he wasn’t sure.

He’d kissed her.

He’d needed to connect with her on some deeper level just to appease his inner wren. He’d taken her mouth like he’d always dreamed of, and she’d yielded to him, if only for a few precious seconds. It was enough to soothe the raw edges of need. Enough to calm the protective instincts that raged within. But it was also barely a taste. Barely a sip of what he wanted to demand from his maiden.

He pulled his robe tighter as he went to the gates of the city. He was tired of being cold all the time. He wanted to go home. Not to his dwelling in the city but to the Lands. It had been so very long since he’d been to see his parents. Since he’d gazed upon trees of color. All the trees here were pale-barked and never in bloom. They were all just varying shades of gray and white. He wanted to feel the fluffy snow in his fingers and taste his mother’s bread. It was nothing like Ula’s rock that she tried to pass off as bread.

But most of all… most of all he wanted to talk to his father. He wanted to ask him how he’d messed this up and how to fix it. Because there had to be a way to fix it, a way to get through to her. Even if she never loved him as he loved her. Even if she avoided him, he would always watch over her.

And that meant he needed to get to the outpost so he could question the Helix spies they’d captured.

Breckken breezed through the checkpoints, nodding at the guardsmen as he passed. Once inside the building, he made his way through a long, gray stone hall until he arrived at the commander’s office. A sharp knock, and was immediately let in.

It took only minutes for Breckken to give his report of the attack while Sir Harmon took detailed notes on his recorder.

“You believe the maiden, Emmalyn, was targeted specifically?” the commander asked after a slight pause.

“I do. It seemed to me, a very precise attack. And they didn’t try to harm her. Their mission was to take her away.”

Commander sat back in his chair, stroking his black goatee. “What interest do they have in a maiden who serves brew?”

Breckken thought for a moment before answering. “There is one thing, though it could be nothing…”

“Go on.”

“Emmalyn is somewhat of a friend to Cannalise.”

The commander raised one ebony eyebrow, skeptical, for it was well known that Canna didn’t have friends. But he was too dignified to make a rude comment.

“Your maiden?”

“Yes, sir. Canna sometimes follows Emma to and from the kafé in order to see to her safety. I believe that is what she was doing tonight and why she engaged in battle against the Helix.”

Commander nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe then, the real target was Cannalise. Perhaps they were using the other maiden as bait.”

“Perhaps.” It was possible. The thought that Canna was the actual target left Breckken even more anxious.

“For now, the maiden Emmalyn must be protected until we know the intentions of the Helix. I do not want an innocent to become a pawn in Davian’s vengeful games.” He turned to his second. “Harmon, station five of our best outside her dwelling and three to follow her at all times.”