Page 42 of All the Chaos of Constellations
The prince arched a dubious brow. “Only three?”
Bastard.
“Considering the vastness of the world, yes. Only three. A mortal kingdom in the Northernlands, the Kethwyn Woods, or the bogs of Fenmire.”
At the mention of Fenmire, the prince’s lip curled in disgust. “Fenmire? That place reeks of tainted witch blood and ancient curses.”
“All the more reason for a stone of great power to be hidden there.” Asher crossed his arms over his chest, a silent provocation. “Don’t you agree?”
Prince Drake was steel. Frigid air engulfed the space between them. “You have until the end of Midsummer.”
Eleven days.
Asher nodded once. “Done.”
They met each other’s harsh glares. Unblinking. Unwavering.
“Don’t let me down, Firebane.” Prince Drake’s voice dripped with disdain, and another menacing smile graced his glacial expression. “I remember how devastated your mother was at the loss of your vile father. I’d hate to see Lady Novalise or your precious little sister suffer the same fate.”
The icy hand of fear gripped the back of Asher’s neck. “Is that a threat, shadow prince?”
The barb struck true. Prince Drake loathed the nickname coined by his father and his body grew rigid, taut with rage. He sneered. “It’s a promise, frostfire fae.”
Asher clenched his jaw, swallowing the growl of fury threatening to erupt from inside him.
With that, Drake turned and stalked right through the group of dancers, chuckling darkly as they stumbled and tripped to get out of his way.
Frustration clouded Asher’s mind. He was running out of time. He only had eleven days left to find this mysterious green gemstone while also trying to ensure Novalise stayed as far away from Prince Drake as possible. Pressure compounded along his shoulders and back, coiling into tight springs of tension. His temples throbbed as the mounting stress slicked his palms with sweat.
He couldn’t handle both tasks on his own.
Knowing there was no other way, Asher went in search of the one female who was a mastermind of persuasion.
His sister.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Novalise paced outside of Ariesian’s study, waiting patiently for any sign of her brother.
He’d not yet returned from the Yavanna Ball, assuming he was even still there. She’d seen him speaking with Solarius and Lord Everland, but then he’d disappeared. She could imagine he had more important matters to attend to, but a prickle of concern lodged itself deep within her spine.
Massive windows lined the wall on her left, each of them reaching to a fine point where faceted glass constellations hung from the center. In the dawn hours, they reflected dozens of tiny rainbows along the floors and down the hall—one of Creslyn’s many fantastical creations. Now, however, the corridors were dim, lit with only the golden glow of faerie fire that flickered within the crescent-shaped sconces nestled on the wall between each window.
It was late, even for Ariesian. The skies were dark, the stars invisible behind a dense layer of clouds.
Novalise yawned, leaning back against his door. Her body sagged from the weight of exhaustion, the fire engulfing her from before had gone cold. She’d taken the entire carriage ride back to Celestine to cool off, focusing all her anger, all her frustration, and developing it into a solid plan. After her disastrous encounter with Asher in the forest, she knew she’d have to take matters into her own hands.
But fates divine, she’d beensoclose. Not only to release but also to finding a husband. To convincing her mate they were the perfect match. She’d been willing to accept the fact that Asher would never love her, but he was bound to her. The second he’d buried himself inside her, she’d known within the deepest part of her heart she would never be able to give herself to another. She’d been an absolute fool to think she could ignore the bond, to think that eventually it would lessen, perhaps even cease to hurt so damn much. If anything, the moment they’d joined together, the power rippling between them had intensified. When their magic fused, it was potent. Unrivaled. The feel of those icy flames of his licking her skin was intoxicating. Frostfire was tempting, alluring. When they kissed, it was overwhelming, as though she was being consumed by stars and flames.
Then there was that devastating nickname he’d called her.
Starlight.
She slumped against Ariesian’s door, her shoulders drooping. A yawn escaped her, and she quickly covered her mouth with the back of her hand out of habit.
Certainly Asher had to feel the same things. Despite his aversion to love, they were a completion of one another. She just had to make him realize it. There had to be a way for her to help him overcome whatever held him back, whatever made him feel the need to abandon her.
Eleven days.
