Page 48 of Starchaser
In the blink of an eye, he transforms, taking on the form of a bat that darts out my open balcony doors, over the banister, and into the night.
For what feels like too long, I don’t move, staring out at the city, feeling as if I might still be caught between asleep and awake.
You’re mine, Aster Oberon.
Pain laces through my shoulder,startling me out of my daze, and I whirl, stumbling through the dark, my daggers still in hand as I throw the door to my suite wide.
Charlie and Lewis sit slumped against the stone wall on either side of my doorway, their heads hung.
Flynn, still dressed in his finery from dinner, crouches over Lewis, his fingers pressed to my brother’s neck.
“They’re alive,” he says, as if by way of greeting. “Someone poisoned their food, but the dose wasn’t lethal. They’ll wake soon.” He looks up at me then, his expression dull as he notes my daggers. “Do you mind putting those away? I don’t feel like explaining to the others why you’ve earned yourself a one-way trip to the dungeons.”
“Others?” I pant, somewhat dizzy from the heady spike ofadrenaline. I look left, right, willing my eyes to adjust to the dim torchlight of the hall. From what I can tell, we’re alone. Still, I don’t lower my daggers, my heart racing.
Flynn rolls his eyes, getting to his feet. “Your brothers are safe with me. Go back inside,” he says. “I’ll keep watch until they wake.”
My eyes narrow. “I only just met you a few days ago. Why should I trust you?”
“That’s an excellent question,” comes a deep, dark voice. Will steps briskly out of the shadows, his fists clenched at his sides. His hair is mussed, his clothes disheveled, and in the flicker of candlelight his cheeks appear flushed. He looks as if he’s just hurried off from somewhere, and my stomach tightens at the thought of him just having left the two courtiers from dinner.
Will appraises Flynn with a cold, lethal stare. “What are you doing roaming the halls at this hour?”
Flynn snorts. “I’m a bit of a nocturnal creature,” he says, performing a mock bow. “And thank the Stars, because I heard a commotion coming from Lady Aster’s room. That’s when I found these two.” He gestures at my brothers’ limp bodies, and I note the subtle rise and fall of their chests. Relief floods my veins, and I lower my daggers.
Flynn jerks his chin at Will, his forehead creasing. “Suppose I could ask you the same thing.”
Will takes a step toward Flynn, a muscle in his temple feathering. But he ignores Flynn’s question, turning sharply to me, his eyes narrowed as he inspects me. “Commotion?”
I look between the two of them, my mouth babbling. I struggle to put into words what just transpired in my room, and Will must sense my hesitation to divulge the truth in front of Flynn, because he quickly nods, motioning at the door to my room.
“I’ll take a look,” he says, his voice soft. He faces Flynn once more, his tone a thinly veiled threat when he adds, “Stand guard. If anything happens to the Oberon brothers, you’ll have me to answer to.”
Flynn flashes his teeth at Will in a biting smile, his eyes darkening. “I would expect nothing less.”
A moment later, Will closes the door to my salon. Alone, he places his hand on the small of my back, his touch warm as he guides me into my bedroom. I hesitate in the doorway, but he urges me forward, his tense shoulders the only indication of his wariness as we enter the suite.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of my balcony doors, the lock latched tight, and my daggers slip from my grasp. Frantically, I move about the room, searching for evidence of the attack, but my wardrobe has been straightened, my bedding unrumpled.
“He was—he was here in my room,” I say, stumbling around in the dark, whirling to face Will, his back to me as he kneels in front of the fireplace, his silhouette like a looming shadow. “He attacked me—the Changeling from the train station! He turned into abat. He flew from my balcony! The doors were open and… Will?”
Calmly, Will strikes a match, tossing it into the hearth. He turns then, brows knit as he surveys the room. Fire illuminates the locked doors that lead to my balcony as he runs his lithe fingers over the handle.
“I’ll have Killian place an enchantment on your suite to ward off nightmares,” he says gently, finally meeting my gaze. He takes a step toward me, his hand outstretched as if to cup my cheek. “It’s been a long day, Aster—”
I take a step back, just out of his reach. “You don’t believe me?”
Will’s mouth twists as his hand falls back to his side, his expression pained. “The doors are locked from the inside.”
I gape at him, horror creeping up my spine like a thousand tiny spiders. “He tried to strangle me!” I make my way to the fireplace, casting my hair over my shoulder to give him a clear view of the fresh bruises that are sure to mark my skin.
Will approaches me carefully, his touch light as his fingertips skim the exposed column of my throat. He drags his thumb over my pulse point, and I think I see a hint of gold rimming his green eyes but decide it must be the reflection of the flames. Still, he clears his throat, putting space between us again, and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but…” he says quietly, running a hand through his mussed hair.
I stagger to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, and my heart drops into my stomach.
There are no marks on my skin—no bruises, not even those that Owen’s attack left behind. Nothing.
“He was here,” I say, tears blurring my vision. “I know what I saw.”
