Page 1 of Above
I
Act I
Many will pretend that there is no honor in accepting your own weakness, but it is often those who refuse to see their limits ahead that push so far past them they cannot return.
Prelude
Everything that ever was and ever will be, came from the stars.
The stars are the reason for the pure magic in the world. Anything that makes us special can be connected to the entities above that shine brighter than all the suns and moons—the ethers themselves that spill wickedness upon the universe so that only their light may guide us. Our cosmic rulers care not for our desires. Limited lives like ours mean nothing to them, though they mean everything to us. Because of that, the stars, while often our saviors, can also be our downfall. But that does not mean that they move with purpose. The stars do not worry for the future or take note of the past. They think only of the present—of their current whims. Mischievous and diabolical, some call them—those who do not worship the entities in the sky. Often, they pay for their refusal to bow.
All who are smart enough to worship the stars know not of life without them, for there is nothing beyond.
Which is why I implore you, dear reader, to pray to the stars. For darkness reigns from above.
Chapter One
Nova
“It is said that a single shaytan possesses the strength and intelligence of two dozen eadi. This is why eadi cannot hold positions of supposed importance, for they were not deemed worthy by the stars. I wonder if the core families think about those of us who were deemed worthy by the stars but not by them.”
- From the journal of Nova Tershetta, 9257 AS (after stars)
Leave it to a rich man to be an absolute disappointment.
The scent of his cologne—leather and musk—mixed well with the wine on his breath, all of which paired nicely with his hazel eyes and firm grip. Yet, his mouth so loved to ruin it all.
“Personally, I don’t think that magic is all that important,” he whispered as I slid my tongue up the column of his neck, his stubble scraping against my chin. A groan slipped from between his slightly parted lips, his voice momentarily—blissfully—gone. But of course, life wasn’t fair, and he continued. “Look at me. I have no magic and I’m almost as rich as the core families. Who needs the stars?”
It felt as if my blood was boiling inside of me, my fury red hot in the wake of his audacity. Not because he dared comparehimself to the core families. Stars knew I couldn’t care less about the purists who felt the need to flaunt their obscene wealth and rant about their ridiculous agenda.
No, it was his lack of respect for the stars and what they blessed us with that pissed me off. Because those who disregarded the stars risked retribution, and I wasn’t willing to let him drag me down too.
“Hmm,” I hummed, my grip tightening in his rust-colored hair.
His smooth and callous-free fingers traced my shoulder, traveling down my arm. Rare was an eadi that didn’t have the hands of the working class. Not so rare that I was out of my side job of robbing the fools, but definitely a diamond in the rough. Or, in my opinion, a weed in a field of flowers that needed to be pulled.
“Honestly, it’s kind of bizarre. I mean, can you even die?” he asked with a chuckle.
My hips stilled, his erection pressing into my fairly dry panties. He had been a good find—a great one really. His wealth was not generational, rather a streak of luck that carried him up the ladder at the oil company he worked at. That, and he fucked the owner.
Quickly, I scanned the room, his plush red sofa and cherrywood side tables a subtle hint at his wealth. But, like the rug below us, the gold fixtures and decorations were the true indicator. Such opulence. Such callousness.
Such disregard for his words.
Lifting my head, I formed a casual smirk on my face, leaning into my part of the exotic shaytan. “I will one day.”
“How?” There was a sense of wonder in his voice that not even he, with all his obvious belief of equality amongst our people, could hide.
“Don’t forget that I am a soldier, handsome. We die all the time.” That wasn’t necessarily true, especially since us mere grunts rarely saw any action.
I felt his heart speed beneath my palm as I let it rest on his chest, his flinch obvious and slightly surprising. Did he not like death? Or was it the term soldier that made him uneasy? That was the true purpose of grunts. We existed as backup, but also as a warning for the eadi—something to scare them into submission.Dare to rebel, and find yourself facing the might of the shaytan forces.
“Do you ever get tired of the wholecreate, kill, conquerthing? I mean, don’t you wish you weren’t a shaytan? It’s kind of…wrong. A perversion of humanity.” As if he hadn’t been paying shaytan grunts to sleep with him to fulfill whatever strange kink he possessed. “Plus, isn’t your family disappointed?”
There it was, the nail in his coffin. I felt my anger simmer. The fury that I worked hard to contain. The rage that came from never feeling good enough for the eadi or the shaytan.
Smiling brightly at him, I moved my hands to his belt, undoing it without breaking eye contact. Eyes fluttering closed, James let his head lull back. Stupid, stupid man.
