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The High Mother stepped away from him. “I will confirm that the Star is being held in the Castle of Wolves,” she said.
The blinding pain became so much he could feel nothing, could see nothing but black. “It is,” he gasped. “I swear.” Xel was never wrong.
“Stand,” she ordered. The claws in his mind vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. His vision returned. Shaking, Aldor hauled himself up off the ground and stood, the echoes of pain cascading through his body as he panted before her.
“I am chosen,” she declared, her voice laced with darkness. “The Star will soon be mine, and they will all regret ever standing in my way. Now come.” She stepped toward the door, her skirts rustling as she went. “There’s work to be done.”
Xel’s words lingered as Nestra walked ahead. Your mistress knows what you are. You are only good to her as you are. She will never give you what you desire.
For years, he’d followed her blindly. Grateful that a creature as blessed as she had found him, chosen him, helped him. He’d believed Nestra to be chosen by the Goddess herself. He’d believed that only with the Star could she reunite him with his soul.
As Aldor followed her, watching the edge of her dress sway along the floor, he felt the suffocating grip of fear and disappointment. The Light within her had long been dimming, but his desperation had blinded him.
Watch her.
Aldor lifted his eyes and watched the back of her blonde head. His heart hardened as he did. For the first time in decades, he saw her clearly. Saw the shadow that shrouded her essence.
He’d sensed a similar darkness in only one other creature before—and it was trapped within a mirror.
Perhaps he was a puppet and a dog, but Aldor was also now aware.
The desperate may seek a way to survive, but only the most cunning see opportunity at the apex of destruction.
Now he was watching. And he would do what he must to protect himself.
Chapter Eleven
Gwen paced her bedroom floor until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She poked her head out the door and looked down the darkened hall. All was quiet and still.
She shut the door again and leaned her head against the hardwood. It was almost midnight, and he still hadn’t come. She’d even wandered the halls, thinking he might find her, but when Barith had found her instead, she’d chirped some excuse she couldn’t even remember and went shuffling back to her room. And here she’d stayed.
He wasn’t going to come. Her heart fell.
Even after their tense conversation this evening, after learning all that stuff about her parents, she’d still hoped he’d come. Maybe he thought she’d rather be alone? Normally she would after receiving such heavy information, but not tonight. Gwen wanted to see him. Insecurity crept up and perched on her shoulder. Maybe he doesn’t want to see you? It’s not like she’d given him a chance to respond before she’d run off after Barith this morning, and they hadn’t been alone since for him to try and let her down gently.
No. Gwen shook it off with a groan. She wasn’t imagining things. This tension. This feeling had been building between them for weeks. What happened in the hot spring had felt like something much more intimate than what they’d shared at Abigail’s. He hadn’t pushed her away or balked or rebuffed her. Actually, she’d been the one embarrassed to be caught with him when Barith had shown up suddenly. Her insides knotted.
Everything just felt so heavy now. Like there was this ticking time bomb strapped to her back, waiting to go off at any moment. She’d convinced herself that wanting Sirus was a horrible idea, that there was no way he could ever want her, but now she started to wonder if it really was so unreachable. She cared about him. More than she’d probably cared about anyone in her whole life. He made her feel safe. He made her feel strong, beautiful, sexy, and capable. Gwen knew he didn’t entirely understand why she didn’t fear him. Honestly, she didn’t totally understand either. She only knew she didn’t.
Butterflies filled her belly, and she took in a deep breath to steady her nerves. The clock struck midnight, and she was hit with a surge of adrenaline and frustration. Maybe he wasn’t going to come, but she wasn’t going to just stand here pacing her room, stewing over it. She needed air.
Gwen stalked across the room, threw the door open, and nearly smacked face first into Sirus. With a start, she stumbled back, clutching her chest. “Crap on a cracker!” she hissed as her heart thumped in her throat.
“Apologies,” he offered, still hovering in the dark hallway.
Her heart slowly began to settle, and it dawned on her that he was here. “I didn’t think you were going to come,” she admitted, still a little shook. She looked up into his shadowed face but struggled to make out his expression.
“It took me a moment to find you,” he replied, his tone gravelly and a touch dark. “You laid quite the path.”
Gwen’s entire body lit with electricity, and she let out a stuttered breath. “You followed me?”
He stepped into the room then, closing the door softly behind him. “I did,” he replied, meeting her eyes. “Through the east wing. A part of the west. The den. The library. A trace of lilies in each place.”
He’d followed her all across the castle. Like a game of cat and mouse. She’d just managed to stay a bit ahead of him. Anticipation filled her. The room was dark, lit only by the soft firelight in the hearth and what rays of moonlight managed to seep past the snowy clouds. The darkness felt consuming as he loomed closer.
She suddenly became extremely aware of where they were. In her room. Only a few feet from her bed. Sirus didn’t budge. He just watched her in the darkness, standing just inside the door, the firelight dancing across his dark features and frosted eyes. It made her feel heady with power. He was waiting, she could tell. Waiting for her cues.
“I was afraid of the dark when I was little,” she told him. “I used to sleep with a lamp or a flashlight. I think it’s partly why I liked the city. It was never dark. Not really. Not completely.”
