Page 8 of Bound By Stardust
Asira
Drazhan was gone.
The curtain was open, displaying my empty bed. The fire had burned out, the sun was up, and he was gone. I waited, a twist of fury and disappointment gathering. I was at the peak of my life changing and, without any regard for my request, he’d bolted.
What did I expect?
The Masters were above all mortals, both literally and metaphorically. They were better than the humans of Terrin in every way: physically taller and stronger, their minds smarter and more innovative, and they had a secret weapon. It was only spoken about in hushed tones, but many said they had magic.
I only knew because Grandmother told me tales about the Masters, how they came to bring balance to the land and watch over the people, not only protecting them from wild monsters, but from raiders and nomads and invading barbarians. The Masters controlled the weather and caused the crops to grow, made the pastures abundant for the grazing animals, and gave us peace to build buildings, expand our livelihoods, and raise families.
The Masters lived above us like gods, but Grandmother said there was another reason, a deeper, forgotten reason. They had an aversion to iron. It weakened them and kept them from tapping into the source of their magic.
I stilled, my fingers running over a bottle of stardust. Drazhan had made some claims about the Masters. What if…
I let the thought hang there for a second, then shook it off and got to work. He’d gone, and it was best I put all of it out of my mind instead of speculating. He had to be mistaken.
The door banged open.
I snatched a knife from the table and whirled to face the intruder.
Drazhan leaned against the doorframe, still maddeningly shirtless but grinning at me, something furry in one hand. “I was hoping you’d have a knife. May I borrow it?”
I hated how sweet relief swept through me – I shouldn’t be happy to see him. Trying to hide my expression, I pointed to what he held. “Depends on what you’re using the knife for. What is that?”
“A rabbit. Figured you cooked a meal for me, so it’s my turn to cook for you.”
My eyes went wide. “Eating the wildlife is forbidden. Surely, you know this.”
“I’m well aware of that law, but what’s the fun in following the rules?”
“You’re going to get me into trouble.”
He smirked. “On the contrary. I’m going to give you a meal you won’t forget.”
“I’m supposed to be the one helping you.”
Drazhan stretched and gave me a devious wink. “You are. I already feel like myself again, and I want to eat real food, meat. One cannot thrive on stardust alone, and I dare say, you need to rest. Did you sleep on the table all night?”
Oh. My hand went to my face. I hadn’t done my hair at all, just sat up and started working. I was still wearing the same dress I’d been wearing for two, or was it three days in a row now? It was wrinkled and stained, and I must smell a bit. “I...I have work to do!”
“I can see that, but it appears you’re almost done, and a break never hurt anyone. Why don’t you take a bath while I make a meal as a thank you? You’ve been very kind.”
Kind. My heart beat faster and a lightning bolt of heat crawled up my spine. I scowled. “It is my duty.”
“You’re not very agreeable, are you? Take the compliment and stop deflecting. You won’t change my mind.”
With a huff, I snatched up a dress and bag of herbs, hating to admit he was right. Instead of getting lost in my work, I needed to take care of myself. Striding to the door, I held out the knife, handle first, giving him my most serious look. “Don’t get any ideas.”
He laughed and pressed a hand to his heart, those golden eyes twinkling. “I dare not invoke your wrath, nor risk the curse you might put on me.”
I bit back a laugh as his hand closed around mine, his long fingers stroking the inside of my wrist. My silly giggle turned into a staggered breath as a tingling sensation went up my spine. Snatching my hand away, I hurried around the cottage, heat flaming across my face.
I tried not to think about him as I washed, scrubbing the dirt and stardust off my skin.
I tried not to think about the way his golden eyes twinkled, or the fact that I enjoyed sparring words with him.
I tried not to think about the fact that he was the first man who’d looked at me, truly looked at me, in years.
