“North Star.”
My eyes blazed wide. There was only one reason to go to that island in Althenia.
“You were going to try crossing realms with me,” I confirmed, barely able to contain the outrage in my tone. “Taking me away from her?”
Drystan shifted his stance, squaring himself defensively.
But it was Nadia who pointed a finger at me, her brow furrowed with anger. “You don’t get to wake up and be pissed,” she snapped. “He’s been studying tirelessly to figure out a way to bring you back from your damned beauty sleep you let yourself get tricked into.”
As much as the idea of what Drystan was going to do enraged me, and how the little rogue dared to speak to me, I had to swallow my feelings after hearing this. Slipping a look at my brother, I felt guilt creep in to cool my body as I took in the tiredness of his face now.
“I didn’t know the curse would happen so soon,” I confessed.
“But you knew it would eventually and told no one,” he said resentfully.
“I hoped I would have a few decades at least and perhaps be able to find a way to break it before the eternal night came.”
I cast my sight up, scanning over the declining expanse of stars and the broken moon.
“The sky isn’t red anymore,” Nadia said, like she was airing a thought.
I didn’t know what that meant, but Drystan did. “It should be midday, so the imbalance is still active, and the stars are still plummeting.”
As he mentioned it, I saw movement, lights that shot across the sky andgrew in luminance. I could hear the roars of the land in the distance, but the vibrations of wherever the star hit didn’t reach us.
“This happens often?” I inquired.
“Yes. Astraea managed to stop a meteor from destroying Vesitire right before she was taken. The people still talk about it, which reminds me, we’ve also seen a rebellion in her name. People wearing armbands of deep purple with her sigil on it—the wings are changed toblack.”
My mind spun to absorb all that stunning information about Astraea. It riddled me with deep pride and immense concern.
“I’m going to get her,” I said, slipping into a dark calm at the thought of confronting Auster after where we’d left off. I was looking forward to inflicting so much pain upon him he would forget his own damned name before he begged for death.
Eltanin gave a rattle something between a chirp and a growl; his giant head twisted back, and when I met those starry, purple eyes… a thread broke in my soul, physically stopping my breath, only for a few seconds as that thread stretched, reaching to forge something new—a bond so brave and triumphant. It was like a star waking up inside me, a quiet burn that sent heat through every vein, pooling into a golden warmth I could barely contain.
Eltanin bonded with me as his rider.
Our minds brushed each other, tentatively and delicately, yet it was impossible to mistake the weight of the dragon’s spirit living within me. Thoughts, not words, resonated between us, each one like an echo of my own heartbeat.
“What is happening?” I asked in a whispered breath.
This wasn’t possible. Eltanin was Astraea’s dragon.
“We were hoping the dragon bond would wake you from the curse, but it didn’t.”
Drystan explained to me how Eltanin only matured enough to choose a rider after his second moon cycle. I was drawn closer to the dragon by an invisible tether, which linked us. It seemed too good, too much of a gift, to be true. However, I couldn’t deny there had been something that intrigued me about the dragon the moment I saw him, which further cast away my denial. Perhaps it had been his darkness, his shadowy magick. I didn’t know, but I was beholden to him the moment I heard Eltanin’s first communication through our bond, not in our language, maybe not in words ever known to mankind, but somehow I understood.
I will be your wings.
It took everything in me not to fall to my knees with this utter blessing. The weight of my celestial wings wasn’t gone; they were right here, mightier than ever before. Wings that would catch me no matter how many times I fell.
My hand reached to caress his feathered mane. Eltanin’s large eyes closed, and a soft purr vibrated over his neck.
“Can you take me to her?” I asked him aloud in the common tongue.
Eltanin’s purple eyes snapped open, piercing into me with our shared determination and concern with the mention of Astraea. This celestial dragon wasn’t mine alone; he was ours, mine and Astraea’s, until the end of time.
I recoiled when Eltanin roared, a declaration of anguish knowing Astraea was in trouble. Eyeing his back, I found the impressive saddle he wore.
