Chapter 1

Chapter One

Cypherion

One fucking bed.

That was what the tavern owner with the obscenely large ears said. Three times.

I supposed I shouldn't insult his ears; it wasn't their fault the only inn in the tiny northern town of Castani only had one room left.

With one bed.

Narrowing my eyes, I assessed the man behind the bar. Thick arms rested on the wood, a coarse beard masking the bottom half of his expression. But his eyes didn't shift. They didn't avoid my gaze, nor did they light with the challenge of trying to get more coin out of me.

Nothing suspicious, defensive, or calculating.

An uproarious cheer echoed from a table in the corner, bouncing across the wooden tables caged in by foggy glass windows fighting off the winter night. Warriors dotted the rest of the sparsely furnished dining room, the market-based town merely a pass-through for those on their way here or there. The voices echoed in my head, and I gritted my teeth.

Shoving my hand through my hair, I sighed. "Fine. That room will do."

A delicate, stifled laugh sounded behind me, but I didn't look at her. Just pulled the necessary coins from my pouch and dropped them over the bar.

"We left our horses tied out front," I added.

"They'll be cared for as if they belong to the chancellor himself," the owner said. A casual turn of phrase, but one that caused a small intake of breath from my traveling companion. And my damn ears were too attuned to miss it. That, plus the mention of the Starsearcher Chancellor, Titus, had my own muscles locking, fingers itching for one of the many knives beneath my cloak.

Without another word, I turned.

"Thank you," Vale whispered to the owner despite the memories that were certainly inundating her mind now. "May Valyrie bless you."

Even low and directed at another, her voice crawled across my skin, calling to every disgruntled nerve ending, pulling me back to nights I didn't want to relive. Her body beneath mine as she uttered promises she had no intention of keeping. Secrets she'd hidden when I'd come to her, vulnerable and asking for help.

I fisted my hands at my sides to avoid remembering how her skin felt beneath them and reaching?—

A low growl rumbled in my throat, and I stopped in my tracks, moving slightly to the side. Without looking directly at Vale, I waited for her to walk in front of me, then continued after her up the creaking wooden staircase.

Curse Ophelia for eternity, these past three weeks had been the hardest of my life, and I'd survived a wide variety of shit thus far.

Leaving my friends at the war camp in the southern mountains to await siege and plot against the now-dead Queen Kakias had been difficult. But the most challenging part was the Starsearcher before me and the battle within my own head. Heart. Whatever.

Not to mention the way every situation appeared to be working against me.

"One fucking bed," I mumbled beneath my breath.

"What was that?" Vale asked, stopping at the landing atop the stairs and flicking a gaze over her shoulder. Those piercing olive-green irises sparkled even in the low light. Eyes I'd seen glazed with tears, fogged during readings, and burning in lust as?—

"Nothing." I cleared my throat. "Key?"

Vale lifted a brow, and Damien's balls, was she fighting a smirk? That was why I tried not to look at her too often—her face was too expressive. The slightest feeling stole her entire being, something I often wondered about given that she had fucking lied to us for months and no one realized.

Had it been so easy then, to mask her emotions?

Vale rolled her eyes, unlocking the door and leading us into the room. And there it was.

Why did so many inns only have rooms with one bed? This had happened countless times these past three weeks, no matter how often I distinctly asked for two—Spirits, even two separate rooms. Was every warrior on this damn continent currently traveling or were tavern owners too lazy to make up rooms with multiple sleeping accommodations?

At least this bed was larger than the last. Even tucked into the corner beneath a slanted ceiling lined with thick wooden beams, it nearly took up half the room. The rest was dedicated to a small table—for two, of course—and a stone fireplace, already lit. Shockingly, there was a small bathing chamber connected, likely only big enough for necessities.

A window sat at the foot of the bed, moonlight reflecting off Lumin Lake far in the distance and casting a white sheen over soft sheets that were too damn alluring for this. They drew visions of tan skin bathed in midnight and a laugh like starlight.

The door snicked shut behind me. The air in the room tightened and dragged me from those thoughts.

"I'll sleep on the floor," I grumbled, dumping my pack at the end of the bed and removing my sleeping mat. The fire in the grate ensured the room was warm enough that I wouldn't need many blankets, despite the chill beating against the window.

I could light our extra mystlight lamps if needed, but it seemed the magic supply in Castani wasn't abundant. Typical of these smaller villages.

Unfurling the mat, I added, "We'll leave early and head west to the temple network now that we're out of the mountains." There was a cluster of eleven scholarly sites in the center of the territory that Vale was hopeful would hold answers for her thanks to their strong magical concentration.

"Cypherion…"

Spirits, my name on those damn lips. And the breathy way it came out.

"It's fine," I snapped, ignoring the tingles spreading along my spine.

Same as I did every time this argument arose. For the first week and a half of the journey, we'd camped beneath the stars in utter silence. Vale had tried to break each moment of quiet. With stories across mystlight lanterns as we cut north through the mountains or conversation about the territory we descended into, she'd tried to break my walls.

Didn't she break them long ago?

I shook the thought off and continued discarding my cloak and assortment of weapons, ignoring the soft sounds of Vale doing the same as she disappeared into the attached bathing chamber.

The click of the door had me releasing a tight breath.

I was dutiful, because traveling with Vale to Starsearcher Territory to solve whatever was blocking her readings—and decipher if it was tangled in the Angelcurse—was the job assigned to me as Second to the Revered. I needed to make sure she slept, ate, and survived, so I always found a reason not to share a bed and rose before the sun to retrieve breakfast and ready the horses.

Not because I couldn't stand seeing those wide green eyes first thing in the morning—eyes full of innocence and wistful vulnerability.

Certainly not because of that.

The short days of winter made this journey achingly long, though, and I was more worried with each day that passed.

What was happening in the southern mountains? Ophelia had written in little detail to avoid private information being leaked. Kakias was dead, and something about the spirit of the Engrossian Angel Bant. My muscles tightened at the thought.

The fae had called in a bargain with Ophelia, and they were set to meet the bloodthirsty queen sometime soon—apparently the ruler of Vercuella had not set a specific time.

From the curt tone of her letters, Ophelia was thrilled about that.

Regardless, this war was over—for now. My friends had fought while I was traipsing through mountains and jungles.

My fingers curled on the buckles of my leathers as I undid them. I should have been there.

You could have rejected this mission, I argued with myself as I removed the top layers and tunic and sat before the fire, feet riskily close to the grate. The warmth heated the nerves I'd tried to numb into a stoic monotony these past few weeks. They all threatened to unravel more and more each day.

"I need your help."

"I'll do whatever I can."

Sighing, I braced my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. Breathed in and out slowly to steady myself, to forget those two sentences that haunted me and the flashes of memory that came with them. To focus on my assignment instead.

Ophelia had been threatening to pull rank to send me here; it was clear in her tone, and I'd refused at first.

A part of me, though…

Involuntarily, my gaze drifted toward the bathing chamber.

A brutally defensive and bordering on hostilely possessive part did not want anyone else being Vale's guard.

It should be me with her.

The door to the bathing room swung open, and she caught me staring like a longing fool. I stifled my reflexive groan just in time.

I'd thought the Spirits were cruel to me before?

Vale stepped into the room and froze, wearing nothing more than a slip of silk for a nightgown, her hair dripping across her shoulders and pinning the fabric to her body. Her eyes landed on me, widening at the realization that I was half naked, and a flush crept across her skin, a comb tumbling from her hand.

The Spirits were fucking dead to me.

She bent to pick up her comb, flashing more of those lithe legs. One strap dipped down, and her silver tattoo glinted on her shoulder.

Angels, what poor fucker had I been in another life to deserve this? She was torture, every inch of her a punishment designed specifically for me—a torture my entire body was too aware of.

"I have to go and"—I shot up from the ground and reached for the tunic I'd just removed—"check on the food."

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and dammit, this was an act I could write by now. The sequence of reactions she had when I shoved her away. Eyes wide, lip caught, gaze searching through the hurt, wondering if she should say something and ultimately deciding not to. Then, the slightest drop of her shoulders and lift of her chin, and she'd say?—

"As you must."

Those three words—her response nearly every time I'd avoided her. I couldn't figure out why she always chose the exact same sentence, the replicated tone.

As I pulled my tunic back over my head and stuffed my feet into my boots, grabbing parchment and Mystique ink from my bag, I told myself to stop fucking picking her words apart. To stop caring.

It only led to more pain.