Merciless Stars Page 2

  Silver’s brows lowered as she studied his face, his expression. He’d never looked like a man before, and she couldn’t remove her gaze from him. Her heart beat harder while she continued to stare at his features—his strong jaw, his high cheekbones, his bright eyes.

  “Hi,” she repeated, breathless. Perhaps he didn’t understand her. It was possible she’d made it so he didn’t speak her language this time, though that had never happened before.

  “Hello,” he finally said, voice deep, cradling his lower lip between his teeth. So human-like. “Do I ... do I know you?”

  Her anxious beating heart plummeted as though sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried beneath the grains, too deep to find.

  “You don’t remember me?” Tears pricked her eyes, but she bit the inside of her cheek to pull herself together. “I’m Silver. You always remember me. I brought you here from the afterlife—Torlarah. Keelen is the name I gave you before.”

  Squinting his eyes, surveying her, he shook his head. “No, I think I would’ve remembered the color of your irises, the whites in the middle of them.”

  Maybe this was for the best—she wouldn’t have to be attached to their friendship, her feelings for him, if he didn’t remember her... “I’ve known you for a while. You were always a raven before, but now you’re like me.”

  He shakily held up his hand and inspected his fingers. “One, two, three, four, five.” His chin lifted, and his expression was questioning. “How?”

  “I gave you a man’s heart using a bit of magic.” She didn’t tell him how dark the power was and that there had been a chance he wouldn’t have come to life at all.

  Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Silver wanted to press her palms to his new skin, run her fingers up the length of him. She reined in that temptation and held out her hands to him. He stared at them for a moment before placing his on top of hers. Smooth, not a single callus.

  Keelen stumbled a bit as she brought him to standing, then maneuvered him to one of the plush chairs across from the writing desk.

  Inside the closet, Silver found a stack of blankets and grabbed a wool one. She padded to the chair and wrapped the blanket around his naked form. It was hard for her not to peer down, even though she’d touched every inch of his body, but that was before it had become flesh—real. And she already knew the length between his thighs would please any woman, though she hadn’t planned on creating it so perfectly.

  He slumped back in the chair and spread his legs apart to where she caught a glimpse of his manhood. Quit reminding me. She flicked her gaze away and hurried to adjust the blanket better as he rested his head against the blue velvet. He breathed deeply, not saying a single word. She stood in front of him, blinking rapidly, waiting to discuss something.

  Keelen released a low chuckle, his gaze softening when his eyes met hers. “I still can’t remember much, only dying as a raven ... numerous times. Yet I don’t specifically remember you, or this place, or an afterlife either.”

  “That’s because you weren’t formed correctly before. I wasn’t strong enough, and I should have used human organs.” She paused and thought of Keelen when he’d been there last. “Do you remember flying in the garden at all? When you were a raven?”

  “No, Silver.” He shook his head and pulled the blanket tighter at his chest. “I can’t remember.”

  “Oh.” At least he was saying her name. She liked the way it formed and sounded coming out of his new mouth.

  “Only the pain. The dying.”

  Silver’s heart dropped to her stomach, and she scooted closer to him. “With every fiber in me, I won’t let you die. Not unless you choose it, but I have something I need you to do. I placed organs inside you and used a specific magic that should hopefully keep hold. You will age, you will live, and yes, eventually, you will die. I know I didn’t give you a choice in what you look like. So, I will give you this opportunity...” She hadn’t expected him to feel this way. Keelen had never remembered his past life, but he did always remember being with her, then the dying. He’d said it felt like flames were licking off layer after layer of flesh, yet to see her again was always worth it.

  “I don’t care what I look like. I don’t care if I’m a raven, a man, or something else.” His jaw tightened, but he wasn’t focused on her. “If I do die again, I don’t want you to bring me back.”

  Silver blinked—the old Keelen would have disagreed. She leaned forward and placed her warm hands in his, letting his cool fingertips absorb her warmth. “I won’t bring you back.” It was a lie.

  The door cracked open, the sound reverberating off the walls. Silver whirled around and straightened.

  Javan stopped in his tracks as his gaze settled on her. “What is this? I heard voices.”

  “Leave!” she shouted. He wasn’t supposed to come in just yet.

  His hazel eyes shifted to Keelen, then to the wax, and finally to the torn-open body. “You’ve been using dark magic?” he rasped, his hand covering his mouth.

  “It isn’t dark if I’m only giving life.” She didn’t understand how that could be considered wrong.

  “It’s forbidden.” He knelt and ran his fingertip across the leftover wax on the floor. “You know this.”

  “Afton will allow what I’ve done when she sees the usefulness of it.”

  “How long, Silver?” he seethed. “How long have you been doing things like this? How are you going to explain this to your sister?”

  “Um, a good while?” She winced.

  “Damn it. You saw what the magic did to your parents!” Javan cradled his face and dug his fingertips into the skin.

  “They were like that even when they didn’t dabble with the darkness,” she forced out. “Trust me, he’s good. He’s going to be Afton’s new guard, and she will need him for Enare. You won’t be able to look after her forever.”

  Javan’s head whipped up and his spine lengthened. “What is she planning, Silver?”

  “She’s going to marry Thorin as per his request.” Silver didn’t know the full story of what was to come, and Afton would have to be the one to explain the rest to him.

  “Something isn’t right here.” Javan lightly bounced his fist against his mouth. “Afton wouldn’t be so easily swayed.”

  “Will you help me remove the corpse? I’ll go and talk to her.” Silver peered down at herself, finally taking notice that she was drenched in even more scarlet.

  “I’ve got it—I’ll get everything cleaned up here.” Javan batted her away. “Just go take your guest to one of the vacant rooms while I figure things out in the weapons area.”

  “I don’t think you can.” Silver inspected his cane on the floor.

  “Silver, I have a limp. I’m not missing appendages. Now go,” he grunted.

  Not wanting to continue arguing, she helped Keelen to his feet and closed the door behind them. She glanced up, taking stock that Keelen was about a head taller than her.

  His eyes locked onto hers. “So you have things you want me to do...”

  “Yes, but you need to rest for now.”

  As they walked down the hall and turned down another, he wasn’t stumbling anymore. Silver let go of his waist as he followed her with long strides to one of the guest rooms. She opened the door to a space that held a jewel-embedded wooden wardrobe, resting across from a bed. Tall ivory posts, encrusted with triangular-shaped obsidian, were at each corner of the mattress.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked as Keelen sat on the bed. He inspected the ornate stitching of the blanket while she pulled him out a tunic and pants from the wardrobe. “I bet you’re starving. Even I’m starving after the day I’ve had.”

  “Famished.”

  Silver tossed him the clothing. “Get dressed and don’t go anywhere.” She didn’t wait for a response as she headed out of the room and down to the kitchens to gather something to fill their bellies.

  Steaming chicken and an assortment of wonderful smells filled her nose when she entered the k
itchens. Silver approached the counters, where Ragan stood squeezing lemon juice onto roasted meat. She collected pastries, fruit, bread, and slices of chicken, placing them on a plate. Ragan’s deep mahogany eyes watched her while one chestnut-colored eyebrow rose, seeming to take notice of the blood on her. He was used to seeing her drenched in crimson, usually after she went out hunting in the woods with Afton. It had been three months since he’d started working at the palace, and Silver had sparked a friendship with him almost immediately.

  “You’re going to eat all that by yourself?” He smirked and swiped a lock of brown hair off his forehead.

  “Maybe.” She laughed before turning to go back to the guest room. Ragan was Afton’s sole lover since his arrival, which had taken Silver by surprise since her sister had never opened her heart to any other man. Afton had always let them know beforehand that, besides a tumble, there would be nothing more. With Ragan, that changed.

  Silver ascended the long staircase and returned to Keelen’s room. He was fully dressed and staring at the candles. His legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles as he rested against the headboard.

  She handed him the plate of food while stuffing her mouth with a jellied pastry. As he bit into a plump strawberry, she remembered how, before, he preferred to snap up spiders with his beak.

  Once he finished devouring his meal, his eyes started to flutter.

  “Try resting for a bit.” Silver helped him under the blankets and pulled them all the way up to his chin, then tucked it around his body. “How do you feel?”

  “As though I can’t move,” Keelen drawled.

  “Sorry about that.” Silver laughed. Perhaps she did overdo it. She loosened the blankets and rolled them down to his chest. “I have something I want to ask of you.” Her hands fidgeted as she waited for him to answer.

  “What is it?” He eyed her warily.

  “I know you heard me mention to Javan about you becoming my sister’s guard. Afton needs a new one soon, and I was wondering if you would do it. She would refuse anyone else, but I know I can get her to listen to me about you. I trust you, even if you can’t remember me. Besides, you always had knowledge about weapons in the past—that has to mean something.”

  “I’m not sure I can lift a weapon at the moment.” He paused. “But I’ll see.”

  Silver took that as a yes and relaxed.

  “This doesn’t belong to me.” His hand was at his chest, over his heart, his long fingers seeming to thrum in sync with the organ’s beat.

  “Just because it wasn’t yours before doesn’t mean it isn’t now.” She shrugged, taking a deep swallow and forcing herself to smile. Did he hate her? Because all she could think right then, while holding his gaze, was how much she loved him. “Rest and let your body learn itself while you sleep. Goodnight.”

  He didn’t say it back. He always said it back.

  Silver’s shoulders slumped and she fought back tears as she left the room. An ache formed in her chest—she was truly a stranger to him now.

  Chapter Two

  Afton

  Afton relished in the bloodshed of her enemies, especially when she was provoked. King Thorin’s guards had reached for her with chains, knowing good and well what she and her sister were capable of. Perhaps they hadn’t believed the rumors. Perhaps they didn’t know the magic she could conjure inside the castle walls was more potent than anywhere else. Perhaps they had been fools. All of them.

  The guards had been silent when they arrived with the note from their king in hand. Shani—one of her outside guards—had brought her the envelope, and Afton then granted them entry into the meeting room. Before, she hadn’t allowed it, but she was growing tired of receiving these letters from Thorin.

  Afton peered at the light green color of her dress, now ruined by crimson speckles. Such a shame. It was an exquisite gown, after all, the way the material swished around her and hugged her curves. Her wardrobe was filled with others just as bold, just as beautifully deadly.

  One of the servants had already unlaced her gown and left Afton to herself. She peeled the silky material from her body, letting it pool to the floor before stepping into the tub. The water’s warmth lit up her skin as she lowered herself inch by inch into its depths, the liquid caressing every part of her body. In that moment, she wanted to explore herself, press her hands between her thighs, rid herself of the stress from earlier. What if she hadn’t been at the castle? What if the guards had gotten to her sister? Silver was as strong as Afton, but she still could have been hurt—or worse, killed. She couldn’t focus on relieving herself while her thoughts continued to turn to Enare.

  King Thorin would remain an issue. The territories were separate for a reason, but that didn’t stop Enare’s villagers from slinking into Ketill and stirring up problems. They’d been a direct threat, yet now their bones resided with the growing collection in the tunnel. Chance after chance had been given, but after today, she knew it wouldn’t end unless she did something more drastic.

  Afton didn’t know much about the newly-crowned king who had stepped into his father’s role six months ago. Thorin’s father had been a tyrant, and based on today, his son had taken after him. If the king wanted to woo her, he should have come himself and attempted to talk to her, not send letter after letter insisting that she travel there. Today had been more of a demand. And if anyone was going to make demands, it would be her.

  The truth was nothing could tempt her toward Thorin because her heart already belonged to another. Ragan. He’d staked a claim on the organ and had somehow pierced past the layers, lightening the darkness within her. Yet, she couldn’t avoid Thorin any longer.

  Shaking away the anger coursing through her, Afton grabbed the vanilla soap bar and scrubbed herself clean. If Thorin wanted a betrothed, then he would get one. One who would rip him apart, remove his head, hands, and feet, then take over his territory. And not because she was a greedy monster, but because his territory had been in ruins for far too long. It was why some of the villagers were the way they were. Once she gained control, she would rebuild Enare.

  By joining the two clans, Thorin would want Afton’s territory for himself. That would never happen—it would only lead to the destruction of her people. As for the other surrounding territories, they could do as they damn well pleased—provided they remained on their own turf.

  Reaching for her dagger, Afton picked and cleaned the debris from her nails. She sighed as she peered down at the clash between red blood and white soap, life and death entwined, swirling around her.

  There wasn’t time for her to relax, not when her body was still humming with energy. What she needed was to find a true escape. There wouldn’t be time for a long interlude, since she had to follow through with her plan the following day. But it would be enough.

  Afton needed to find Ragan now. When the spark between them had begun, she didn’t love him—she’d never fallen for any of her past lovers. Before, Afton had always believed that to love was to yield, and she’d never wanted to yield. She’d wanted to loathe it, wanted to deny it, call it weak. Yet she’d chosen to give in. And she couldn’t stop their first meeting from rising to the surface.

  Silver stood chatting with a man whose back was turned to Afton. He was tall, broad, his brown hair pulled back with a leather strap. Her body heated just from looking at his backside, then she realized what he was. A stranger in her kitchens, with her sister.

  “Who’s this?” Afton asked, her tone clipped.

  “His name’s Ragan.” Silver beamed, waving Afton closer. “Jeanette brought him here for us to meet, to see about him taking over some of her shifts in the kitchens.”

  The man turned to look at her, and Afton blinked. His face was one of the prettiest she’d ever seen. Strong jaw, defined lines and angles, long lashes above deep brown eyes.

  “You must be Afton,” Ragan said, his voice low and deep.

  She scowled at his easy use of her name.

  “What do you think
?” Silver grinned.

  Afton thought that perhaps he should leave and never return. Instead, she asked, “Can you make tarts?” Anyone who worked there needed to know how to bake them for her sister. Silver wouldn’t have cared, but Afton did.

  “I can make anything you want.” His lips tilted up, his eyes not lifting from hers.

  “Then start now, and I’ll come back to try them later. If they suit our tastes, then you can stay.” She whirled around and trudged toward the front of the castle, refusing to glance back, before she invited him to her bed. He might be pretty enough to take for the night, but that would be all.

  Afton had been so wrong about that... Those damn tarts had led much farther than she ever would have expected.

  For now, she would have his naked skin against hers before returning to her duties. Throwing on another gown with a plunging neckline and a slit on one side of the skirts—this time red to go with the bloody theme of her day—Afton headed out of her room. Her boots dug into the plush carpet as she walked past the rows of statues, ones that Afton had made Silver hide behind when their parents’ moods would take an even darker turn.

  She brushed off the familiar fury that still rose in her chest when thinking of her parents. Afton grasped the wooden handrail while descending the onyx staircase to the wide sitting room below. New silk pillows decorated the purple velvet settee, and not a speck of dust covered the marble floors or any of the decorations.

  The clanging of metal reverberated through the walls near the bottom of the stairs. She already knew it was Javan in the weapons room. He grated on her nerves, ever since she was a small child. Because he had done nothing, while her parents had done everything. And the everything her parents had done to her and Silver didn’t have an ounce of goodness hidden within. Deep down, a minuscule part of her knew Javan had tried to do better once Afton murdered her parents. Though she had never forgiven him, and never would, she couldn’t kill him either. Silver loved him too much. Besides, he’d proven his loyalty to the two of them time and again.