Page 55 of Starchaser
For what feels like forever, the two of them remain locked in a tense stare, and I get the feeling Titus wants to say more—that this is about more than just this one secret.
“What did he say?” Titus finally asks, tearing his gaze from Will to look at me, his expression softening, if only a little.
“He’s not just any Underling,” I tell him, wincing at the suddenache in my skull. “He’s the Shifter who bit me when I was a child.” At this, Will’s eyes go wide, but I don’t stop, afraid I’ll never get the chance to say this again. “He told me I won’t die from the venom—not unless he wills it.” Searing heat stitches across my forehead, but I keep going. “He wants me to leave Castle Grim. I think he knows Morana is here. I think—” I grit my teeth as the pain intensifies, cleaving my head in two. “I think he’s the general from the stories, and that he’s trying to use me against her for some reason. Don’t you see?” I brace my head between my hands, shirking Will’s grasp as he reaches for me, backing up until my spine is flush against the cool stone banister. “It’s how we find Morana. We use me as bait.”
“Absolutely not,” Will says with a violent shake of his head. “Look at what’s happened today!” He gestures at the ballroom behind us, the music muffled by the thick panes of glass. “You will not put yourself in any more danger.”
“It’s my life!” I shout, and it’s as if the words echo over the waves below, as if the ocean amplifies my voice. I turn to Titus, my jaw set. “We’ll keep trying, right? We still have three days until the wedding.”
His nostrils flare as he looks at Will, almost apologetic. “I told you she would figure it out on her own.”
If it weren’t for the banister at my back, I would think I was tumbling, free-falling, plummeting hundreds of feet toward the water below. “What are you talking about?”
“Your ability should allow you to sense Morana,” Titus says slowly, carefully. “But your blood…”
Will shoves him, the vein in his forehead bulging. “Don’t you dare—”
“Your blood is the only way to draw Morana out,” Titus says,not bothering to look at Will as he regains his balance. “A halfling with Shifter venom in her veins—there’s a reason Morana sent your brother to collect you. Your blood is valuable to Morana, I’m sure of it. I believe we can persuade her to reveal herself if she thinks she’ll have access to it.”
Will’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he glares at Titus.
“You already knew?” I ask, my voice quiet.
Titus frowns, sorrow creasing his brow. “I hoped Morana would be tempted.”
Will huffs, outraged. “If she wants to leave—”
“I’m staying,” I say, my gaze never leaving Titus’s. “I’m not done here.” I turn to Will then, his face falling with defeat. “And neither are you.”
I take his face in my hands, and he presses his forehead to mine as his hands come to rest on my hips, holding us both steady. “Please,” I whisper. “Let me carry this with you.”
A tear slips onto Will’s cheek, and without thinking, I press a chaste kiss to Will’s skin. At the brief contact, his shoulders slump, his breath catching.
Titus clears his throat.
“Looks like the two of you have some things to sort out,” he says, taking another swig from his bottle. “I’ll leave you to it.”
He slips inside the ballroom without another word, and as I watch him go from over Will’s shoulder, an uncomfortable heat singes my cheeks.
I draw back, my hands cupping Will’s jaw, imploring him to meet my gaze. “I know you don’t like this plan, but I do. He’s not giving up,” I say, cutting a glance in the direction of the ballroom, where Titus disappeared into the crowd. “Please, don’t give up.”
Will takes my hands in his, his fingers trembling as he blinks away another tear. “I’ve known Titus since we were children,” he says, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “He fought for me when I didn’t want to fight for myself. He always has, and I’m sure, even after I’ve turned… he’ll keep fighting. It’s just who he is.”
The raw, tender emotion in his gaze as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear almost cools some of the rage I feel. “Even if you turn—which youwon’t—we can still cure you—”
“You don’t understand,” Will says. “I’m not like your brother. As a Nightweaver, I’ve done things—unforgivable things.” He worries his bottom lip, looking over my shoulder toward the city beyond. A chill snakes down my spine as his features darken. “If I can’t control the bloodlust now…”
My stomach churns at the thought of what Will is capable of—the damage he can inflict if he so chooses. “But youdohave it under control,” I say quietly. “We could—”
“No, I don’t,” he admits, a frown twisting his features. “Every moment I’m awake, I have to fight the urge to kill. To”—his throat bobs—“to consume.”
I don’t miss the way he glances at my lips—my neck.
“Even with me?” My words come out on a breath. I don’t know why I ask. I don’t think I want to know the answer.
His frown deepens. “Especially with you.” He takes a step back, creating space between us, and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “When I turn…”
“Youwon’t,” I insist, trying to close the gap between us, but he continues his retreat. Some of that rage, just sizzling beneath the surface, comes to a boil. Hot, angry tears well in my eyes. “Why don’t you think I can do this?”
