Page 45 of Starchaser
I stand, closing the gap between Titus and me, but he refuses to meet my gaze. “Where are you going to get human blood?” Idemand, but an image of Titus with a human heart between his teeth roils my stomach, and I regret asking. As the Reaper, it wouldn’t be difficult for Titus to consume enough human blood to obtain the power he claims it will require to perform the ritual, but at what cost?
He snorts a laugh, cutting a glance at the exposed column of my throat. His lips curl into a cruel smirk. “Are you offering?”
Will gets to his feet, then, stepping between Titus and me. “This isn’t a joke. You know what will happen if you feed. I won’t let you lose yourself to bloodlust. Not again.”
My blood turns to ice.Not again.
Titus rolls his eyes, nodding slowly, but when he takes a step toward Will, his expression turns cold—sinister. “I will do what I must to save you, even if you disapprove of my methods.”
This time, I push between the two of them, forcing Will back a few paces, but Titus doesn’t budge, towering over me like one of the stone statues. “Will’s right,” I say, chin raised in defiance as I crane my neck to look up at Titus. “If my ability doesn’t work—if I can’t sense that Leo is possessed—”
“You will,” he cuts in.
“If Ican’t,” I push through, teeth clenched, “will you kill Leo anyway? Just to be sure?”
The spiteful mask of the heartless prince slips, if only for a moment, and Titus appears conflicted. But his expression hardens once more, and when he speaks, his low voice is lethally calm. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for the chance that William might be saved.”
Will. We’re both doing this for Will.
“Lord Castor?” comes the trill of a woman’s voice.
Before I can react, at a preternatural speed I can hardly comprehend, Titus and Will move as if they were of one mind. Will practically shoves me into Titus’s arms before emerging from behind the statue, jogging a few paces toward the direction of the two approaching courtiers. Titus spins me around, pinning me to the back of the statue, shielding us from view, his hand covering my mouth.
I bite his middle finger, if only out of instinct, but I wish I didn’t.
Titus smirks, his gaze intent on my mouth, and I suppress a shiver as he brings his lips to my ear and whispers, “I’m going to need that finger, love.”
I bite down harder, earning a quiet hiss of surprise as Titus jerks his hand back.
The courtiers’ voices have already begun to fade as Will escorts them away from the pond. I peek around the side of the statue as Will’s voice is lost to the night, ensuring the coast is clear before taking off in the opposite direction. Titus follows, close at my heels, and I swear I hear him mutter a curse under his breath.
“Aster, wait,” he says with a sigh. “My coat—you can’t—”
Just before I reach the door from which I entered the graveyard, I turn, unbuttoning his coat and holding it out for him to take.
He reaches for it but seizes my wrist instead, pulling me toward him. He searches my gaze, and I’m surprised to find no trace of the haughty prince, the debonair pirate, or the villainous Reaper staring down at me—just blue eyes, as deep and dark as my beloved ocean.
“If you truly believe that Morana hasn’t possessed Leo, then, no, I won’t lay a finger on her. You have my word.” His browspinch, his mouth pressed tight. “But please,” he whispers, “promise me you’ll try again? Just to be sure?”
I throw off his grip and shove his coat against his chest.
“I’m doing this for Will,” I say. “Of course I’m going to try.”
I open the door to find Charlie and Lewis standing guard, whispering to each other, their faces rosy in the lantern light. When they see the prince behind me, they straighten, schooling their boyish grins into what I’m sure they believe to be serious expressions, and though I can’t smell the liquor on their breaths, I’ve seen my brothers tipsy enough times to know they’ve had one too many cups.
I shut the door in Titus’s face, leaving him out in the cold, and start past my brothers.
“Boy,” Charlie says, pretending to whisper to Lewis, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think our sister had just stabbed that poor bloke through the heart.”
I fall from one nightmareto the next. Without the wards Killian placed at Bludgrave Manor to protect against unwanted dreams, I fall prey to visions of gnashing teeth and blood-soaked hands, trails of eyes that lead to crimson ballrooms and fires that burn and burn and burn—
I wake with a gasp. Cold sweat beads on my forehead, and I sit up, blinking as I attempt to force my eyes to adjust to the dark.
Something you can smell, something you can touch, something you can see.
In the past, when I would wake from a nightmare, Mother was always there to gently guide me through that mantra. But even though we might be within the same castle walls, she feels farther away from me than she ever has.
I run my hands over the velvet blanket, taking a deep breath. Theair smells of sea brine, and I realize the doors leading onto my balcony are wide open, my curtains billowing like phantoms in the night.
