Page 37 of Storm of Fury
He tried to calm the storm, to send her thoughts of love and understanding, but she tore away from him, her eyes glowing a vibrant, eerie green.
“I’ll set you free,” he whispered, clinging to the bars between them even as they burned his skin. “You’re not alone, Ishtar. I won’t ever leave you.”
Ishtar simply cocked her head to the side.
“And I’ll protect you,” he promised, feeling the Goddess waking as she heard his oath. His resolve firmed. “I’ll protect you from everyone who may seek to harm you.”
Even from herself.
Chaos magic was the most dangerous force on earth. He wasn’t fool enough to think his aunt’s warnings nothing but air, but perhaps all Ishtar needed was to know love.
Perhaps he alone was the onedrekiwho could reach her.
Eight
It was time.
Ishtar paced the warm confines of the cave, feeling more and more unsettled. Her foster mother was late. She’d ventured into the cave where her foster mother came every night to bring her food and brush her hair, but there was no sign of the queen.
Zorja was never late. It set every inch of Ishtar on edge, because she could feel time rushing her inexorably forward—
A key rattled in a distant lock.
Zorja was here.
Her foster mother arrived, carrying the tray of food. Illarion walked behind her, and he looked at Ishtar, his dark eyes turning intense, before his gaze slid away as it always did.
Ishtar crossed to the rock she usually sat upon and folded herself onto it.
She was used to feeling invisible. And it was easier this way—to stay down here where it was dark and she could hear the earth grumbling like a contented cat. Where nobody from the court would scurry away from her as if she was going to bring the ceiling down upon their heads. Again.
But sometimes she wished she wasn’t invisible.
To him.
Illarion used to talk to her, and tell her stories of how the Goddess created the world. He’d let his gaze linger upon her once upon a time, and she’d been told by some of thedrekiwomen at court that was a clear sign of a male’s interest in a female. When she’d broached the subject with him, however, he’d become angry.
“It is forbidden,” he’d told her, and the words echoed in her ears, even to this day. “I cannot touch you. I cannot wantyou. I am your guard. I am… a Keeper. A Void. I was born to protect the world from your magic.”
And since that day he no longer told her stories or let his gaze rest upon her.
“I have brought you some bread and cheese,” Zorja said, setting the tray near her feet. “Your favorites.”
Ishtar stared at them in disinterest. She would have to eat, because Zorja would persevere until she did, but the inside of her skin felt as though it itched.
He was coming.
They were coming.
She’d seen them in her visions.
“There will be a full moon in three days,” her foster mother said, taking a fistful of Ishtar’s hair and gently tugging the brush through the ends.
She could barely think when her hair was being brushed. Every part of her ached to pace, to knot her fists and clench her hands until her knuckles cracked. But she sat instead, trying to keep still.
“You know you must stay in the caves,” Zorja said, finally setting the brush aside. “Even though the moon is full and you want to see it. No more of this nonsense about talking to the moon. Promise me you will stay this time.”
I can’t.I won’t be here.
