Page 7 of The Stars are Dying

Many had believed so before—that the strands of hair that shone iridescent were not of birth, but the result of something I’d consumed. My denial was often wasted breath. Only I knew it was humorous for one to believe I could afford the magick that could give the same result.

“No,” I answered, not caring if he took it as the truth.

His gaze slipped back to me, twinkling with mischief. “Like Starlight.”

My face fell at his poor attempt at flattery.

His mouth quirked. “And these?”

I sucked in a breath when his featherlight touch trailed over the curve of my shoulder, resisting the fluttering of my lids when tingles shot through me. I shook my head, remembering myself. “No,” I whispered. “Are yours…an enchantment?” I tried not to look at the exposed skin of his chest, though locking his stare flushed me with far more heat.

“No.”

That caught my intrigue. I wanted to know how, mystified I had this one thing in common with him. What were the odds that someone with such a similar attribute could have found me?

His proximity became too much. I feared the snare he could become. I dipped away from the marble pillar, my hair slipping like shimmering silver silk from his fingers, and stiffened against the embrace of the cold.

“Your dance,” he said, his voice seductive but creeping like shadow. “It was most exquisite.”

“And it is finished,” I said, ignoring the inkling of disappointment that came with my dismissal.

I didn’t know why he was here or how he’d infiltrated Hektor’s defenses. I wasn’t sure that knowledge would be safe. I needed to leave and forget the beautiful stranger. Though I knew the moment I did, I’d never see him again, and that fact stole my willto leave.

Maybe it was foolish to find desire in danger, but only when both were presented did I realize just how long I’d lived without touching either. Now both had come to form in front of me, they tempted me like the remedy to an ailment I never knew I had.

“Not to me,” he said.

Those low, rumbling words were nearly lost when the door creaking open made me leap back in horror. Before I saw the intruder, something floated down in my vision—the blue face covering—and I snatched it, securing it clumsily as the man entered fully.

“My apologies, ma’am.” He rushed out upon seeing me, averting his gaze as though I had been caught naked. “I was directed here. I’ll have to speak to Hektor—”

“No,” I called a little too quickly. “I was just leaving. Do not concern yourself with Hektor—I am on my way to him now. You will not be disturbed when your lady comes, I assure you.”

The older man dipped his bearded chin respectfully.

Before I made my way to the door, I remembered my company. I scanned the room. Twice. My mind reeled when I found nothing, for the only exit required passing the gray-haired man still lingering by it.

Yet the only semblance of night was in the sky that watched over me as I cast one last look up and left.

2

Ihadn’t fully exhaled my breath of relief when I slipped into my rooms and froze still against the door. Hektor eased out from the darkness of the washroom.

“Darling,” he said, the tone he used raising the hairs on my arms. “Where have you been?”

No answer would be justifiable when his rule was that I remain in these three interconnected rooms at night.

“The roof terrace,” I answered—the one place out of bounds to his clients. “I needed a moment for air.”

With his shoulder-length red hair tucked behind his ear, he approached with the green eyes of a predator debating whether to strike or give mercy. I noticed the glass of water he carried, and my body reacted with a flush of need at what it meant.

In front of me, his smooth hand reached for my jaw. I suppressed a flinch. When his hold came soft I relaxed, gazing at him with a submission I often despised. I’d done nothing wrong, only stolen a kernel of freedom within the walls of confinement.

“Open for me.”

My lips parted, and his thumb pressed down before the capsule landed on my tongue. Then his mouth came down on mine—a single deep kiss that tasted of spice and alcohol. He pulled back, stroking his knuckles over my cheek while extending the water out to me.

I accepted it eagerly, my throat still dry from my encounter with the stranger just a moment ago. Hektor’s touch, I couldn’t help but let the thought pass, did not awaken anything in me, and I wondered if it was merely that I expected it, or that when he held me he showed his affection the way I’d seen him admire his prized collections.

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