The Girl Who Called The Stars (The Starlight Duology Book 1)

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The Girl Who Called The Stars (The Starlight Duology Book 1) Page 7

by Heather Hildenbrand


  I sighed. I had a strong feeling this would all be easier if I just let it happen. “In the cabinet,” I said. “There.”

  I waited while he went to get it and then watched as he began unwrapping gauze and tape. He bent close while he worked and I forced my breath to remain even as his warm breath washed over my skin. When it happened, a second time, I shuddered. He looked up sharply and our eyes locked.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  I shook my head, silently cursing the hot flush that crept into my cheeks. I wasn’t about to tell him my shiver came from pleasure, not pain. When I didn’t answer, Xander continued to study me which only made me more embarrassed.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I muttered.

  He didn’t respond except to lean in, and I froze as his mouth inched closer to mine. Holy hell, he was going to kiss me!

  Did I want him to kiss me?

  I didn’t not want it.

  Ugh. Why was this so complicated?

  At the last second, something about my expression must have warned him off and he blinked then leaned away.

  My shoulders sagged.

  Xander tapped the bandage on my arm and I looked down to see he was already done. “I put some cream on the wound,” he said, his voice a little scratchier than usual. “You should keep the bandage on for at least a day.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  Awkward silence filled the space between us. I wanted to fill it with something neutral. Some sort of safe topic or common ground, but what came out of my mouth was, “Eamon told me about my promise.”

  I held my breath, bracing myself for some sort of explosion. But Xander nodded slowly. “Good. I mean, it’s not a secret or anything. It’s just…”

  “Weird?” I offered.

  “Disappointing,” he said, and I ducked my head.

  “Oh.”

  “Not you. The situation,” he clarified.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” I said.

  “No, I… Listen, I’m sorry for being pissed at you before. I just… I didn’t know about your memory loss. When I saw you in the woods last night, I was so happy.”

  “You were happy?” My brows shot up and Xander’s mouth quirked.

  “Okay, I was surprised. I just… All this time, I thought…”

  “What?” I asked, my eyes locked on his. Like if I just stared hard enough, all his secrets would float to the surface. It was silly, but I had the distinct impression all his secrets were mine once, anyway. The problem was that I wasn’t sure I wanted them to belong to me again.

  “I thought you abandoned me,” he admitted quietly. “When you left Zorovia, I told myself you’d be back. That you’d find us on Bardawulf and we’d be reunited. Every day for months. Years. I thought it was only a matter of you finding your way back to us from wherever Peter had hidden you away. But you didn’t come. And eventually, I realized there was only one reason for you staying gone.”

  His expression turned bleak as he said, “I thought you were dead.”

  “But Eamon said...” I swallowed hard. Logically, I knew I wasn’t responsible for his pain, but the hurt in his eyes was heavy. Just watching him relive it made me want to fix it all over again. “He said you never stopped looking.”

  “He didn’t,” Xander said in a rough voice. “And as far as our people are concerned, I didn’t either. When my schedule allows, I go on search and rescue missions alongside Eamon and the others. I didn’t tell anyone I’d given up, but I just never really thought I’d see you again.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked, hurt for reasons I couldn’t understand. I didn’t even know him and I damn sure hadn’t looked for him. Why did it matter that he’d stopped waiting for me?

  It’s those eyes. Even with all your memories gone, you’ve never forgotten those eyes. Something in me wanted to say it, but I held back.

  “I wanted you to understand my reaction yesterday.” His voice was thick and raw, and I could hear the pain that underlined every word.

  More than that, I could understand it. So many times, I’d considered giving up too. He had no idea I’d wanted him to be real just as much as he’d wanted me to be alive.

  I cleared my throat, turning away and pretending to inspect my bandage again. When I looked up again, it was with a carefully neutral expression. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said. “But you don’t owe me an apology for that.”

  “I do.” He shook his head, clearly not ready to let himself off the hook. “When I saw you last night, I felt like I’d let you down by not coming with Eamon on every single mission. I should have searched harder and—yeah, I was also pissed with you for abandoning me. For not finding me either.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out, completely at a loss. How did I apologize for something I had no control over?

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hating how pointless it sounded now.

  But Xander grabbed my hand and covered it with his. “Don’t apologize. You don’t owe me that. I just thought you should understand about before.”

  I nodded. “And now?”

  His blue eyes darkened to a stormy gray and my breath caught as his gaze dropped to my mouth. “It’s up to you,” he said in a low voice.

  I bit my lip and his stare turned heated.

  My chest constricted. I wanted him—the boy with the blue eyes. And I wanted him to want me too. “We should start over,” I said, breathless.

  “Sure,” he said, nodding slowly as he continued to stare at my mouth.

  My heart thundered in my chest.

  I started to rise onto my toes, but I hadn’t fully closed the distance between us before reality crashed down around me.

  Shit.

  I’d never wanted a kiss more than I did right now—but I’d seen too much pain in him earlier. And I’d seen too much hidden inside those blue eyes of his to think it was as simple as starting over. There was no way I could let myself kiss him. Not until I knew it wouldn’t hurt him even more. Xander was turning out to be a lot more complicated than I’d first thought. So were my feelings for him.

  His lips had barely brushed my own when I pressed a palm to his chest and eased back. It was still enough to send my head spinning. My resolve began to crumble as the sensations of his mouth on mine sank deep into my skin. Desire shot through me, stronger and bigger than anything I’d felt in my entire life—or at least the past five years for sure.

  “Xander…”

  “Alina,” he breathed, his gaze holding mine like a tether of emotion connecting us.

  I wanted to tell him I’d dreamt of him. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back. It wasn’t for lack of attraction. If anything, it was the exact opposite. In the span of mere hours of knowing him, I already felt things for him I had no recollection of feeling in my entire life. And that scared me.

  On top of my own emotions, I wasn’t ready to take on his feelings about it too. Not yet. And especially not when I was about to march us both to war.

  I blinked. “Will you tell me something about my family?”

  His eyes flicked away from my mouth and over my face, searching. Just like he’d done before. I had no idea what he found there, but finally, he nodded once and the spark between us faded. “Of course,” he said lightly.

  Just like that, the spell was broken.

  I forced a smile. “I burned Eamon five times. That’s five things.”

  “Four,” he replied. My brows shot up. I started to argue, but he cut me off. “I already told you one, remember?” His lips twitched. More proof his anger with me was gone. For now, anyway.

  “Four then.” I rolled my eyes, hiding a smile. Despite the limp and the bloody arm and the possibly displaced hip, I’d somehow managed to turn the day around. “Tell me about my parents.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You look like your mother,” Xander said, and I made a face.

  “Peter’s told me t
hat a thousand times. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I doubt I can tell you anything Peter hasn’t,” Xander said. “He knew them better than anyone.”

  I shook my head. “He won’t talk about them.”

  “At all?”

  I shrugged. “The only thing he’s told me is that I look like my mother, am determined like my father, and that they took my memories for my own good.”

  Xander frowned. “I don’t get it. Why hold back?”

  I shifted my weight. We were still standing really close, and while I didn’t want that to end, my bruised hip was seriously throbbing now.

  “Come sit down,” Xander said, not missing a beat as his sharp eyes must have caught my discomfort. His arm was around my waist before I could protest and he led me to the couch.

  Very slowly, he helped eased me down but I still couldn’t help the wince as I landed wrong against the cushion. “Shit,” I hissed.

  Not even bothering to ask permission first, Xander reached for my shirt and pulled it up a few inches to inspect my skin. I looked down and saw my entire hip was already covered in a few nasty shades of brown and purple.

  “You should see the other guy,” I joked but Xander’s features were pulled tightly together.

  He rose quickly. “I’ll get you some ice.”

  I nodded as he hurried to the kitchen and began opening drawers. I cocked my head, listening as he clearly searched everywhere but the freezer.

  I called out, “There’s a cold pack in the freezer.”

  The refrigerator opened. Shut.

  Finally, the freezer opened.

  A moment later, Xander appeared carrying the cold pack. He placed it gently over the bruised area and then sat back.

  I ignored the way he sat close enough for me to feel his body heat. “How did you not know where the ice is kept?” I asked then waved a hand, cutting him off. “No, you know what? Better question: how do you know even the sliver of things you’ve already displayed? I don’t remember much about life off this planet, but don’t you guys live in space domes and ride around on light ships or something?”

  Xander’s brows shot up. “What the heck is a light ship?”

  I shook my head. “Disappointing.”

  He just smirked. “Actually, our little town on Bardawulf is pretty similar to your settlement here.”

  “Get out. Seriously?” I stared at him, too surprised to care that he’d called this dusty little town a settlement. “Stucco and vinyl siding were the best you could do?”

  He laughed and the sound of it startled me into silence.

  My cheeks heated thanks to the pleasure that speared through me. After all of his seriousness and brooding, Xander’s laugh was unexpected. It was also a sort of prize—and I felt like I’d won.

  “Well, it’s not quite the same material since ours is made directly from mud and sap, but yeah. Simple living is our best option right now. It keeps us off the radar. If we put a lot of effort—or magic—into building fancy cities, it might give away our location.”

  “I thought you guys had some dome of protection or something.”

  “Neila’s spell work is only so strong. With so many magic users, it’s taking a lot to contain just the people. She can’t handle buildings too.”

  “What more would buildings cost her? They’re inanimate objects.”

  He smirked. “That’s what you think.”

  I eyed him skeptically. “Seriously? Your buildings are sentient, but you still don’t know what a freezer is? What kind of—”

  “Uh-uh. You only have four questions left. Do you really want to use them on Zorovian architecture?”

  I groaned. “Fine, fine. But we’re circling back to this, so don’t think I’m going to forget. And for the record, I think you’re wrong about whatever stamina you think I got from my dad.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I tried out for the track team a few years ago and it was a total disaster.”

  Xander’s brows furrowed. “What’s track?”

  “Uh, running?”

  “I see.” Xander cocked his head at me. “You know, running isn’t the only form of stamina.”

  My cheeks went hot at the innuendo. I ducked my head but not before Xander’s lips curved in a knowing smile. Shit. I cleared my throat and pretended to adjust my ice pack.

  “What else is there?” I asked in a voice that totally gave me away.

  But Xander let it go, thank the Goddess. “Stamina isn’t about speed or even physical strength. Think of it more like a reflex. It’s just a part of your body’s makeup. Just like the reflexes that allowed you to dodge Eamon’s attacks.”

  “Not all of them,” I said, holding up my bandaged arm.

  “Those wounds are superficial,” Xander said.

  My brows shot up. “That blood didn’t look very superficial to me.”

  “Alina, Eamon has shredded the flesh of his opponents. Did you see him with that Shadow last night?”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t his enemy. We were just practicing.”

  “Eamon doesn’t ever just practice. That’s why I’m the one in charge of training at home. He doesn’t go easy. Ever. In fact, the only time he faces off with a student or trainee is when they’ve already graduated the program and even then it’s by recommendation only. Trust me, if you hadn’t moved fast enough and kept moving, those scratches would have shredded your flesh.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I thought he was holding back,” I said.

  Xander’s brow rose. “Did he actually say that?”

  I hesitated, trying to remember our exact conversation in the cellar.

  Well shit.

  “Not exactly.”

  Eamon had indeed tried to kill me and I’d actually held my own which meant that maybe Xander was right. Maybe I had gifts I didn’t know about after all—gifts from my parents.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “So I get great reflexes from my father. What else?”

  “Hmm. Well, there is your temper which I always suspected you got from your mother.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Xander laughed. “Let’s see, for starters, how about the fact that your mother once burned an entire mountainside over losing a jesup race?”

  “What’s a jesup?” I asked.

  “Sort of like a horse,” Xander explained.

  “That’s what you called Nightingale last night.”

  Xander nodded. “They look similar but jesups were bigger with a rounder head. And they ran much faster than your Nightingale does.”

  “Please don’t say that in front of her,” I warned and his lips curved.

  “I’ll try to remember but she shouldn’t worry. None of them made it out before… Jesups don’t exist on Bardawalf.”

  “Oh.” I tried not to think of all the creatures that didn’t make it out. Like my parents. “So, these jesups… My mother raced them?”

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned. “She was pretty good at it too, but she was a very sore loser.”

  “Who did she lose to?” I asked.

  “Eamon. He’s the one who told me the story. Apparently, your mother thought she had the fastest jesup in the kingdom and that would be enough to beat him.”

  “And did she?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t even close,” said a growly voice.

  Xander and I looked up and saw Eamon coming in the front door with Peter behind him. They were both covered in dust, which made me wonder what the heck they’d been up to together all this time. Peter’s expression was pinched, and he didn’t seem to be able to meet my eyes.

  My stomach tightened, but I pushed my suspicions aside until I could corner him alone.

  Focusing on Eamon’s comment, I arched a brow at the certainty in his words. “Well, when you’re all smug like that, it’s no wonder she lost her temper,” I said which only made Eamon laugh.

  Peter smiled. “You know, I remember waking up to the destruction, but I had no idea that’s what happene
d.”

  Eamon winked at me as he came to sit on the rug in front of the couch. “That’s because the official story was a dragon.”

  “A dragon?” I sat up straighter, suddenly not concerned with the bruise or the pain of moving so fast. I shot an incredulous look at Xander then back to Eamon. “Dragons exist? And you’re just now telling me?”

  “Of course dragons don’t exist,” Peter said.

  Eamon only winked again. “Right. But no one questions the word of an empress.”

  I sat back and shook my head, trying not to notice that my smile felt sad. My mother would have been fun. Hearing stories about her only made me wish I hadn’t missed a chance to remember her.

  I looked at Xander and covered my sadness with the physical discomfort—and there was plenty of that to make it convincing. “I know that’s only two, but can we save the others for another time? I think I need a hot bath and some painkillers, not in that order.”

  “Sure.” Xander rose. “Eamon and I are going to head out to the woods and take care of whatever evidence might be left from our visitors last night.”

  I grimaced as I got to my feet, glad I hadn’t been asked to go on that particular errand. “Have fun with that.”

  “You’ll be all right here?” Xander asked, his forehead scrunched with worry lines. He’d risen too and stood close in front of me, studying me again with those watchful blue eyes.

  I ignored the butterflies ramming my insides and smiled up at him. “I’m fine,” I assured him. “Thank you for everything.”

  He nodded and looked ready to say more, but then his eyes slid to Eamon and Peter and he stepped away. “I’ll see you for dinner,” he said and then slipped out.

  I made my way slowly to the stairs underneath Peter’s watchful frown. Part of me wanted to remind him he’d set up this little training exercise in the first place. But I also knew he’d been right to do it. It was time I learned how to fight. We all knew that’s what was coming next.

  “Alina,” Eamon called before I could escape upstairs.

  I turned back. “Yeah?”

  His furry face smoothed into something resembling pride. “You did well today.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was true. I mean, compared to what? But I nodded and forced a smile. “Thanks. Oh, and thanks for not killing me.”

 

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