Blood of Stars and Gods (Stars and Souls Book 2)

by Melissa Petreshock

  “Wait.” I grab her arm as she starts walking away. “So, Corrin just let you off from the Neglected Dependent Law?”

  Jennifer smiles down at me, gentle, the way I’d imagine an older sister would. “No, Cait. Liam tracked down an estranged uncle of mine in the Dakota Province to list on record as my familial patriarch until I turned thirty. Then it didn’t matter.”

  “Pardon me.” Ero bows politely, a sharp, painful reminder of Oliver. “I am not interrupting am I? I wished to speak with Caitriona.”

  “Not at all.” Jennifer gives a small wave to me. “I was about to go find Liam anyway.”

  “My apologies. May I?” He asks, gesturing to the now vacant seat on the bench-seat swing beside me. I nod. I doubt he would leave, even if I refuse to let him sit. “The others are preparing for Agtos’s departure, but I gather he earned no particular favor in your eyes.”

  “No. But I appreciate that he’s returning to Avalon Island to keep watch over Oliver while he …” I’m not sure what reincarnating entails, just that the dragons say it happens if they die. And it changes them, sometimes drastically, as in enough to ruin the reputation of a respected leader, or leave them deeply pained in unending ways. Those I know.

  “I suppose you would best describe it as ‘recovering’. His body, in natural form, will rise from the ashes of Avalon’s eternal fire, grow to its full size and strength once again, and his memories will return. It takes quite little time.”

  Inhaling deeply and letting it out in a rush, I push my hands farther into my pockets as I wrap myself in my coat. “Little time in my concept of time or in yours?” With eternals, I’ve learned ‘little time’ could vary as widely as a few days or a few hundred years.

  Ero rests a hand on my knee, a soft white glow emanating from his palm and fingers as warmth spreads over my freezing skin. I don’t shirk away from his touch, not because I honestly want to avoid frostbite, but because, despite his youthful features, Ero exudes a genuine sense of a fatherly desire to care for everyone around him, everyone here.

  “This is not a process of defined parameters in which I can give you a date to expect his arrival. The physical body reaches its full potential within a few weeks; however, one’s mind endures far more trauma to bear the weight of death, cross the veil, and return. Oliver must come to terms with the events he has experienced and be prepared to fulfill his duties again before he comes back to you, Caitriona.”

  I bite my tongue, not wanting to tell him how much it irks me that he keeps calling me ‘Caitriona’ rather than just ‘Cait’.

  “I’m unsure what I have said to upset you, but I am regretful to be the cause of your pain.” The god’s tone is gentle, soft as silk, wrapping me in the comfort he offers.

  “Do you read everyone like an open book, or is it just me, Ero?”

  A small smile plays at his lips, and his eyes appear as a clearer, calmer blue, so suiting of everything else about him. “It is in my nature, part of existing as a deity ruled solely by the principle of compassion. I am far more sensitive to other’s emotions than the rest among the High Realm. When Dana created the Dracopraesi, I insisted on the necessity of this trait, yet she felt it would impair their ability to carry out their destiny. However, she did not dismiss me in full and gifted Jaiteru with the same ability.” He pulls his hand away from my knee, looks to the ground, and when he meets my eyes again, it’s through dark lashes and a tuft of hair fallen over his forehead, making him appear younger and almost shy. “But I don’t need any gifts or tricks to know the way your brows crease like that means you aren’t happy. I received a similar expression upon my arrival, and I’m a quick learner.”

  “I don’t like being called ‘Caitriona’ and would prefer it if you just call me ‘Cait’ like everyone else.”

  Folding his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, Ero stares off toward the fire, saying nothing at first. “I followed Dante’s lead in that reference. It is the name by which he called you when coming to the High Realm and speaking with Dana and I. My apologies if I erred in that action, but if you so dislike it, why allow him the privilege? Every one of the dragons calls you ‘Cait’, even Theo.”

  “Because it’s just different with Dante.” He asks questions I’d rather not discuss, but Ero’s like the god version of Jai, too nice to refuse anything he asks. Shrugging, I sigh, and try putting words to the reason. “Because it sounds more beautiful the way he says it, just the way he has the perfect name to suit him, and I can’t imagine calling him by anything else. My dragons … I can’t explain why they’re different, why I give them silly nicknames and simply want them to call me ‘Cait’ and nothing else.”

  “I suspected as much.” Ero leans back on the bench, swinging it so slowly it doesn’t make a sound. “Aside from everything else I need to come for, Dana wanted to me speak with you, Cait.” And he smiles as he says my name. “I will call you that because you ask it of me, but be prepared that the others likely will not. You have always responded to Dante because it is in your blood. You accused me of a familial relation due to my physical appearance, yet have you looked in the mirror? Lustrous dark hair, vivid blue eyes, flawless fair skin, and the feminine curves of a body in the likeness of Dana, as she intended beauty to be. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then surely we in the High Realm are the beholders, the ones who have seen it from the beginning and recognize it when it stands before us.”

  Glancing around for one of the dragons, I’m debating on the sensibility of going inside now. “Um. Thank you?”

  “As complementary as those statements are, they were meant as no more than observations, and I did not intend to make you uncomfortable. I hold no interest in you in that respect, no offense to your beauty, Cait, but I am genuinely committed in my relationship with Dana.” His smile is lighthearted and kind, relieving the awkward moment creeping between us. “You are one of us, Cait, and the blood exchange with Dante seals a bond between you that cannot be undone.” I suck in cold air, unsure if I’m frozen more by his words or by the late November night air. “But Theo holds your blood within him as well, and you carry a unique bond with the dragon that cannot be broken either.”

  “I thought the Lord Regent thing was … you know. Didn’t Agtos do something like that?” The subject of Agtos doing any such thing with Ero’s significant-other-practically-wife who happens to be the Mother Goddess and Dante’s biological mother is not a topic I’d like to discuss. I can’t imagine he does either.

  “It was ceremonial, of sorts, neither of them bearing heartfelt emotional ties to the other, so no residual tie remained afterward.” He’s said enough for both of us, and casts a glance in my direction as if begging to not discuss it further. I nod; glad that was all it entailed. “As the Dracopraesi’s North Star, bonds with dragons cannot be broken. They are eternal.”

  Horrified, I stare at him, my mouth hanging open until I realize and snap it shut. “So, I’m kind of married to both of them?”

  “No. Not at all, Cait. Certainly, the three of you form a triad, a Trifecta, one that when unified your marks will show the strength or weakness of,” he says, gesturing to my neck where the silver triquerta remains. “However, you face a decision, one you cannot avoid. You have chosen Dante, but he is not wrong to believe enforcing a marriage under such circumstances is less godly than holding you to even the most sacred vows, because Theo is quite correct as well. You are young and have much to learn yet. I say this neither to offend you, nor to demand you choose today, but the decision must be made. It is required that you marry, and I can only allow this one opportunity to rethink what you have done. I have great compassion for the errors of impetuous youth, but cannot enable continued irresponsibility in this matter.”

  “We form some triad? So we’ve always been tied together somehow, the three of us. Why can you tell me this, but no one else can or will?”

  “Dante and the dragons are woven into the plan of your destiny. They either will not tell you, as dr
agons are duty-bound not to influence another’s path, or they cannot tell you, as Dante does not fully understand his own path and how it intertwines with yours. A select few of us know, and can reveal what we believe is necessary. Three of us—those of us considered the highest of the High Realm—laid out many plans, paths, and destinies, our hopes for this realm; Dana, as the Mother Goddess, myself as the Guardian of the Sacred Lands, among several other roles of significance to aspects of this world … and Hades, God of the Underworld, Keeper of Lost Souls.”

  Part of me wants to hug him for telling me something, anything, about what’s happening to me, explaining any of it and letting me choose between Dante and Theo with a clearer head. The rest of me wants to choke him for being party to hijacking my entire life.

  *Claaron*

  No origami keeping his hands busy, no Sky Book open to Mahjong as a distraction from conversations he wishes not to hear or as a means to occupy his mind from traveling down paths he fears; Theo sits in the desk chair with his hands idly resting in his lap, eyes distant from this place.

  It concerns me.

  “I should think you’d be quite satisfied to see Agtos leave. The rest of us can certainly handle the situation without his constant aggravation. His condition has kept him too long departed from the blood of battle and filth of war anyway.” I remark, dusting off the side of my shoe. The problem with suede is how impossible it is to keep clean.

  Lolling his head forward, my brother’s gaze falls to me with stifling intensity. “Cait was quick in running to you when she needed someone.”

  I nod, unwavering under the weight of his stare. “Yes. She needs someone to help her remain grounded in the wake of Oliver’s death, and in sorting through the fallout of her response. Cait faces unimaginably difficult decisions and grossly unfair doses of pain. Can you honestly expect her to run to you when part of what pains and confuses her involves you?”

  “No. I’m thankful she trusts you.” Theo’s green eyes grow soft, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I believe we ran to one another too quickly, needing to feel alive when consumed by our mutual pain, and it multiplied her fear of losing me as well. I should have known that.”

  “Why is it you think you should know everything, Theo?” Planting both feet on the floor, I lean forward, emphasizing each word. “You. Do. Not.” Sitting back again, I give a moment for him to process what I’ve said before moving on. “You haven’t loved before Cait. It takes time to learn. Get over yourself.” With a smirk, I add, “Unless you like me calling you ‘stupid dragon’ so much of the time.”

  “Did she mention Falcon’s request to remain with her?”

  Nice change of subject. I sigh. “He did, and I don’t approve of his keen desire to take advantage of this opportunity. Oliver’s absence is not an open door for him.”

  “I agree. His request to remain with her displeases me greatly, but I won’t try overruling Cait’s decision, whatever that may be. She is our North Star, and even the Lord Regent cannot deny her wishes. Cait’s intuition compels her in ways we do not, and cannot, understand.”

  “And will you not try overruling her decision with Dante either?” He looks away, jaw tensing, and perhaps I’ve pushed him too far, but someone must push him somewhere. “Ero opened the door, Theo. It’s no dishonor to step through, make your presence known.”

  “She knows I’m here.”

  My brother wants to be stubborn. And so will Cait no doubt. I must wonder if my work with these two will ever be done.

  “Oh, she knows you’re here, but does she know you want her with you? Dante needs to do nothing at this point. He loves her with absolute and pure devotion, and whether we like it or not Cait does love him in return. She may never feel for him what she does for you, but if you do not stand up for what is yours, then why should she believe he’s worth leaving behind?”

  Meeting my eyes, his intensity sends a chill through me. He’s fierce, just the way I want him to be in his need for her. “What should I storm in and declare as mine? Cait? And you say I’m the stupid dragon. She would remove my talons and wear them as a necklace.”

  I stand and lean over the desk, inches from his face as he growls, daring to put my neck on the line for Cait, for Theo, for all of us. “No. Her heart. She admits she remembers. Will you deny it belongs to you?”

  Rising to his feet, I’ve either riled him up quite right or sentenced myself to a second death. “I will not. Her heart is mine, and mine is hers.”

  Chapter 21

  *Cait*

  Staring at myself in the mirror, I don’t want to believe everything that’s happened over the past two days. Oliver and Corrin can’t be dead. I can’t be married to Dante. And I can’t be standing here in Theo’s Led Zeppelin t-shirt, contemplating that decision once again because I’m possibly the worst future goddess, star for dragons, or whatever to ever exist.

  Oh, my Goddess. And my hair is so tangled I should have just stayed in bed and not even bothered to start this day.

  Detangler comb in hand, I’m done standing around in the bathroom with the mirror fogged from my shower. I can sit on the bed and fight through my hair, maybe read a book, and keep hiding for a while.

  But as soon as I open the door, clearly my alone time is over. “What are you doing in here?”

  “It is my room.” Theo eyes me head-to-toe. There’s no smile on his slightly parted lips, and I clench the comb in my hand, memory after memory of those lips on mine, on me, hot and soft and perfect, flashing through my head.

  “Since when did using it become sharing it?” They’ve all done everything possible to keep me from needing to go back in my room, from seeing where I lost Oliver and Corrin, seeing what blood may stain the floor.

  “Since when did using my room mean raiding my dresser?” He gestures to his shirt that fits me more like a dress. “Though I do believe I like it better on you.”

  I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying how I like it just fine on him. Or off him and on the floor. “It’s comfortable,” I say instead. “I didn’t feel like wearing another sweater after my shower. It’s already hot in here.”

  He grins, and I glare at him.

  “Is there a reason you came in without knocking, Theo? Is something really so urgent you couldn’t wait?”

  The grin disappears. “I have waited.” Stepping closer to me, he doesn’t close the distance, leaving more than an arm’s length, and as much as part of me wants to, I don’t move. “You spoke to Ero last night, and I know he freed you to make the decision with your memory intact. I will not stand here and demand you choose me in this very moment, swear everything to me, but I will not leave without the truth.”

  “What truth is that?” The truth that he is almost impossible to be near and not touch? His eyes are a deep hue of emerald, breathtaking and beautiful set in the angular features of his handsome face, framed so perfectly by raven-black hair. The truth that in the white button-down shirt he’s wearing, his tanned skin looks flawless? “I think you need to elaborate.”

  “Tell me your heart no longer belongs to me the way it did before. Tell me you are not in my arms because you remember your love for me, but it is less than it once was and is no longer enough.” With a step closer, Theo lowers his voice, and my heart is in my throat. “Tell me your heart no longer belongs to me, and I will no longer want for your return every moment of every waking hour. But if it is, then I am here. Where are you?”

  “I’m right here, Theo.” I’m the one who gives in and closes the distance between us, resting my head on his chest just to hear his heartbeat. There’s no place that feels safer … or hurts more, than right here. “I need a few days to step back and catch my breath first. Will you wait?” It’s a whisper of a reply, but it’s all I can give.

  Theo wraps his arms around me, holding me tight, and I can’t miss the heavy sigh. “Cait—”

  His GoSky vibrates in his pocket, and he growls as he pulls it out to read it, effectively ending a conversatio
n that was heading in an awkward direction anyway. “Bazynh cuho.”

  “Well, that didn’t sound good.” I may not speak Penfaeryn, but I do know how to curse in it. “Do elves tell time differently than the rest of us? Because I’m sure it hasn’t been three days yet.”

  *Claaron*

  Liam strolls over with amusement dancing across his face that I believe may be at my expense. “What the hell is that?” he asks in sputtered laughter.

  I run a hand down my satin lapel. He snorts. “Honestly, Liam, didn’t you wear the same cargo pants last week and that very t-shirt yesterday, or do you just buy them in bulk online so I can’t tell the difference?”

  “Less laundry.” Sniffing his underarm, he shrugs. “Anyway, it’s still good.” Disgusting.

  “Well, this is vintage Dolce and Gabbana, a jacket and waistcoat likely costing most than your entire wardrobe since I’m guessing it consists of cargo pants, t-shirts, and combat boots, hiking boots if you’re feeling daring.”

  “That may be true.” Liam pokes a finger curiously at my shoulder, and I bat it away. “But at least none of my stuff is purple and squishy.”

  “Plum and velvet.” I growl. “And if you make one comment about my faux crocodile bluchers, I swear—“

  “Faux crocodile?” He interrupts me in a fit of laughter.

  Glaring, I stand my ground. “I’m certainly not wearing real crocodile skin. They’re innocent animals, not elves. Cruelty-free fashion, Liam. You’re so far behind the times. … I swear to the Goddess, next year, we’re taking Cait, and I’m dragging you to Tokyo, Rome, and Johannesburg for my favorite fashion weeks. All the latest designers. Vintage boutiques.” I’m already imagining the to-die-for evening gowns we’d find for Cait. “I’ll give you a style makeover, Liam. You need it. That and–”