Page 83 of All the Chaos of Constellations
The terrain became more uneven, and Novalise found herself climbing over small boulders, the courtyard of House Emberspire far below her in the distance. The shoes she wore pinched her toes and rubbed her heels raw. They were fine for dancing but utterly useless for climbing hills and tramping through a forest. She kicked them off with haste, leaving them to tumble down the small hillside behind her, relishing in the feel of the cool, damp earth beneath her bare feet. Her magic sang, the fire of the stars searching for the frosty midnight flames of Asher’s soul.
Higher she went, scaling the hillside and maneuvering her way around the jeweled trees, when the rushing sound of a waterfall filled her ears.
Novalise staggered out into a small clearing and stood in awe of the sight before her.
Silhouetted against the darkness, near the edge, stood Asher. His hands were clasped behind his back while he looked out over the shimmering falls. Crystalline waters, illuminated a glowing turquoise, flowed from multiple rugged cliffs. Each one jutted out from the hill, depositing the gushing streams into the faerie pool below where curls of steam danced upon the surface. Moonlight filtered in through the dense trees, casting the banks of the pool in a hazy, ethereal gleam. Soft beds of grass cushioned large, smooth gray stones covered with green moss. Fire sprites, miniature fae barely the size of her palm, darted through the woods and around the water’s edge, leaving a sparkling golden trail in their wake.
It was breathtaking.
Novalise took a cautious step forward so as to not startle him. “Asher?”
He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Novalise?”
Instantly, his gaze skimmed the tree line, looking for any sign of Prince Drake.
“It’s only me.” She moved closer. “I came alone.”
“You’re bleeding.” His gaze focused on her thigh, where her dress was in pieces and her skin was scraped but slowly healing itself. The burning ring of gold around the darkness of his eyes amplified. “And you’re barefoot.”
“I was attacked—by a rosebush,” she added quickly when silver flames ignited from the tips of his fingers. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
There was a shift in his expression then. Something in his face softened. The stern line usually present across his brows diminished and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. Reverent. “You seem to have an affinity for being attacked by thorns and bushes.”
Novalise launched herself into his arms. Clasping both sides of his face with her hands, she drew him close and kissed him.
Asher gathered her up, crushing her against him. His lips were a warm welcome, and his tongue glided over hers like velvet, coaxing breathy sighs from her with every taste. She trailed her fingers up his ears, following them all the way to the pointed tip. Asher groaned, his hands skimming down to her hips, pressing her into him so she could feel the fullness of the effect she had on him. He broke their kiss, moving his mouth to her jaw, then her neck, nipping the sensitive area with his teeth. A gentle lick, a harsh scrape, then another swipe of his hot tongue to ease the sting of pain.
“I need…” She gasped when his thumb brushed across her breast, hardening her nipple into a peak.
“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, biting at her neck once more.
Novalise shook her head. Tingles spread through her and heat pooled between her legs, but she hadn’t come to find him for this, at least…not yet. “I need to talk to you.”
Given the current circumstances, any other male might’ve become disgruntled by the cooling of the heated intimacy simmering between them. But not Asher.
“Very well.” He leaned back, his dark hair with its streak of silver falling into his face, and he nodded once. “I need to talk to you, too.”
“I know about your father.” The words tumbled from her before she could gently ease into the subject.
Asher stilled. His eyes, once burning like embers, dimmed. He released her, letting his hands fall to his side, then he turned away to face the waterfall once more.
She had yet to understand his reasoning on the matter. She moved closer and grabbed his hand, the damp grass soft and slippery beneath her feet. “Talk to me. Tell me why. Why did you have Prince Drake kill your father?”
A deep crease formed along his forehead as he gazed out over the cascading waters. Though she only held his hand, it was as though his entire body had turned to stone, hardened with resentment of the past.
“Is it because he was despicable and didn’t seem to give a damn about anyone?” she pressed, tightening her hold on him. “Or is it something worse? Like the fact that he continuously betrayed your mother with little regard to the effect it would have on your family?”
Were it the latter, at least that was something she could comprehend. Though having someone killed for their indiscretions seemed like a drastic consequence, but still.
“He abused her, Nova.”
Asher’s words hollowed out her heart.
“He broke her. Physically and emotionally. Then he’d put her back together before doing the same thing all over again.” Asher swallowed and the shadows of the night haunted his handsome features. “I did what I could to become the focus of his aggressions. I took every punch from that bastard’s fist just so he’d stop hitting her. For a while, it worked. I stayed on the receiving end of his rage until I was old enough to fight back.”
Novalise wrapped her arms around his waist, but his gaze was locked somewhere in the distance beyond them. Somewhere she wasn’t invited. He’d sheltered himself from their bond, and she was left in the cold to wonder. She couldn’t imagine being forced to witness such wretched behavior. She’d likely never recover if she ever saw her father raise a hand to her mother when he was alive. And Asher, oh gods, her heart. How old was he when he first tried to sway his father’s anger? Sorrow filled her, for she knew no amount of sympathy could ever undo the trauma of his past. Tears pricked at her eyes, imagining a young Asher—a youth compelled to become an adult too soon—stepping up to deter his father and save his mother.
“My father tormented my mother. He was a vicious, vile creature. Mercilessly cruel.” Asher ground out each word, his jaw clenched so tightly, the veins pulsed along his neck.
