Page 152 of Vasmora

“I meant nervous about the underwater caves.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “A little, yes.”

“You’re nervous about sleeping, as well.” It wasn’t a question, and I supposed anyone with eyeballs could’ve seen that something was troubling me.

Brows pulled tight, I nodded. “Will you stay with me? For a little while?”

“Of course.” He leaned back against the stone wall and pulled me into his body. The warmth that radiated from him settled into my bones, and I breathed long and easy through my nose. When I opened my eyes, I noticed a single star had broken through the thick darkness of the clouds.

“We should make a wish.” I inclined my head toward it. “It’s the only star in the sky tonight.”

“The only one we can see. They’re out there.”

“Are they? Perhaps it’s alone. The only surviving star. How lonely that must be.”

Zevander smoothed his hand down my hair. “So, make your wish.”

“I feel like there are too many things to wish for right now.” With a sigh, I nuzzled closer, craving his warmth. “Strange, when I was younger, I wished for the same thing. Every night. Every birthday. Every winter solstice.”

“What was that?”

“To know my mother and father. Who they were. What they were like. I loved my family, of course. They gave me a home.” My mind drifted into memories of those days, when we were young and the world felt lighter. Summers meant exploring and long nights beneath the stars, and winters were playing in the snow and sneaking sips of warm morumberry wine. “But there were always reminders that I wasn’t one of them. Aleysia looked so much like her father. And his father. And I would wonder if I shared similarities with my own father. Was he kind and nurturing? Protective?”

“You don’t know anything about him, at all?”

I shook my head. “I would only imagine he might’ve been Lyverian, but perhaps not.” A troubling thought hooked itself in my head. One that I’d pondered a few times. “I guess he could’ve been anyone. Even Sacton Crain.” The mention of him and the mere suggestion of such a thing sent a shudder through me.

“Wouldn’t that be a steaming pile of shit.”

His comment tugged a smile out of me. “It would.”

“Your ability to wield my flame is curious, though.” His fingertips lightly caressed my shoulder, calming me.

“Would Morsana be capable of that?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. We’ve always learned that each god’s power opposes the other.”

“I wish I would’ve asked my mother about him.” I stared off at the mesmerizing flame across from us, drawn back to the night she’d visited me in the temple. “I saw her.”

“A vision?”

Nodding, I blinked away the sting of tears in my eyes. “She was beautiful. Exactly as I imagined.”

“Then, you must take after her.”

A smile played on my lips. “Who do you take after?”

He sighed. “I’ve always been told I looked a bit like both my mother and father, though I never saw much of my father in me. Rykaia took after our mother, too.”

“And Branimir?”

“I’ve never seen Branimir’s face without the deformities, but I’ve heard he looked more like my father.”

How sad to imagine Branimir’s face paired with another fate, the life he might’ve lived. “He’s perfectly handsome.”

Zevander muttered under his breath, and I smiled, angling my head so I could see him. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of spider boy? No.”