Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Cypherion

Vale's voice was a bell through the night as she poked her head out the window. It called to something in my chest as it always had.

"Of course," I said, scrambling to rise and give her my hand as she sat on the ledge and swung her legs over, bare from toe to thigh despite the chill. She'd changed out of her sweat-stained outfit from the rings, wearing a similar blue chiffon one now.

She must have visited the bathing chamber and splashed water on her face, too, if the curling, damp strands of hair framing her wide eyes were any sign.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, watching her closely for hints of the lies I'd learned to pick apart.

Vale bent her head, studying her rings. A wave of hair slipped across her face, and without thinking, I tucked it behind her ear.

Fuck . I shouldn't be doing that.

I couldn't be taking those small steps, little actions that would make things easier between us. Closer. I couldn't let her in again. Nothing that had happened tonight changed that.

Fear had been a cold snake woven between my ribs, and I didn't have room for it. I cared about enough people in mortal danger. Five. Tolek, Malakai, Ophelia, Santorina, and Jezebel. That was all I needed or wanted.

Still, when I'd seen her so weak and vulnerable, that Starsearcher's hands on her, I'd been lost.

And when I touched her now, my skin tingled. Vale's sharp inhale said she felt it, too. So responsive. She'd always been that way.

"I'm all right. Tired, but better than usual after…"

Sometimes it took her days to recover from an episode, but she really did appear okay now. Skin and eyes brighter, limbs not shaky.

Turning to face her, I said, "We?—"

"Your head," Vale gasped.

My brows pulled together, and—"Fuck, ouch." I winced as the slice to my eyebrow throbbed. "I forgot about it."

Vale fought a smirk. "Forgot you had a head wound?"

"There were important things happening." The blood staining my cheek was probably gory in the moonlight. The cut was likely almost healed over by now, just tender. It had been a deep one, though. More of a mess than anything. "I'll go wash up."

"No," Vale said, pushing to her feet with a firm hand on my shoulder. "Let me."

She disappeared inside and was back before I could say anything, towels both damp and dry in hand. She carried a myriad of other supplies that I hadn't realized she had with her.

I wanted to ask where she got them. Wanted to know more about what happened tonight. But Vale crouched down in front of me, practically sitting in my lap to reach the cut. When her ass rested gently on my thigh, I couldn't form a damn sentence.

And then she raised the damp towel to dab at my forehead. Gentle fingers picked away the reminders of the night, close enough that each of her breaths fanned across my cheek, loud in the silence. I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to focus on anything other than where she was so warm in my lap and dig up a semblance of sense.

"Thank you," Vale said, swapping a wet cloth for a dry one.

I swallowed over my dry throat. "For?"

Where was I supposed to put my hands? I couldn't grip her hips, but they hung useless at my sides now, tapping the tile.

"For coming for me tonight." She dragged the cloth down my cheek where the blood had dripped, her touch so careful yet confident, as she was in everything we did. "I felt safer when you arrived."

My eyes flicked open, brows rising, and I hissed at the pain of that action. Vale gave me a scolding look. I almost laughed, but something about her gratitude bothered me.

"You shouldn't thank someone for caring for you, Vale."

Because I did care.

I shouldn't.

I didn't want to.

But I did, only a little bit. She was easy to care for, and there was no person on Ambrisk that deserved Vale's thanks for something as simple as that.

Her chest rose at my words, putting her breasts right in my face beneath that thin chiffon, and I closed my eyes to focus on anything besides her. She felt…nervous. Could someone feel nervous? That was how her thigh barely daring to touch mine felt as her fingers continued to clean the slice to my head.

"It needs to be sewn up," she finally said. "With something that deep, it might reopen before magic can heal it."

"I'll find someone tomo?—"

"I can do it." Vale sat back a bit, giving us both room to breathe. "If that's okay. I have supplies here. I bought them at the market."

"You know how to do that?" I asked.

"I've stitched many things in my life." She didn't elaborate, but I knew it was about the temple. She always had a slightly different tone to her voice when she spoke of it.

I was there for four years.

We were punished if our readings were not clear enough.

My friends and I snuck to each others' rooms at night.

The brand on my shoulder…

Each was said with a certain inflection, despite the gravity of the confession. Each was a piece of herself offered after being burned so many times. Pieces, I was realizing, I could never fully turn away, no matter how hard I tried.

"Go ahead," I said. "But talk to me as you do it. Please."

And now it was the inflection in my words that she was reading. The way I said please , desperately and vulnerably, as I had that night I came to her begging for help.

Clearly, as we locked eyes in silence, both of us were taken back there. Both of us acknowledged what happened, accepting it without needing to say it.

"What do you want me to talk about?" Vale asked, digging through her supplies.

I needed something heavy. Not frivolous. That wouldn't be enough of a distraction.

"Who is Harlen?" I asked.

Vale froze for the briefest moment, then stood, a sterilized needle and Bodymelder thread in hand. She crept closer and assessed the way I was seated against the wall. Looked at the tiled roof around us and judged the angle of the light.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to my lap.

My throat dried again. I nodded, and she positioned herself across my hips, firmly straddling me. Great.

As she dug the needle in for the first stitch, she started speaking, and her voice became that wind chime that carried away the pain. "Harlen and I were at the Lumin Temple together. I've told you a bit about…my time there."

I was sure she left out the most horrific parts, but there'd been violence against the children at the hands of the masters. Her brand was from the temple.

"Was he—" I hissed as she tugged at the thread. Reflexively, my hands shot to her hips.

She froze for a moment, then relaxed against me, bringing her that much closer. I held on.

"Don't talk, or you'll move, and it'll hurt more," she scolded. I liked that firm tone while she sat like this more than I should.

"Harlen was not branded as I was. He was an orphan who turned to the temple for help, but we arrived the same week. As I've said, I've told you a bit about my time at the temple, though I haven't elaborated on why I was there in the first place or why I left."

Tug, tug, tug, that needle went against my skin, and she unfolded her story between us. She spoke calmly, but this was something she was trusting me with. Something she offered after what I did for her tonight.

"Back then, the masters were taking children in secret. It was illegal, but some didn't care. Villages were ransacked, children were branded to temples, some faced much worse fates." The end of her sentence faltered, and I could only imagine why. "At first, I didn't know why I was taken. It wasn't until I was older that I learned I was sent to the temple because I was deemed special. Starsearchers' readings are not only tied to our Angel, but?—"

"They depend on the eleven Fates," I said, hissing again as the thread pulled.

"Shh," she reprimanded with a slight laugh. "But yes. The eleven Fates—used to be twelve—are our touchpoints leading to Valyrie and Moirenna." She paused. "You really remember?"

I remember everything , I'd told her before the night went to the Spirits in the fighting rings.

Vale stopped stitching this time and let me move my lips very carefully, leaning closer to her. My hands tightened on her hips with the motion.

"All of it. And I've done my own research."

More than I would admit.

"Well, then you remember how Starsearchers each align with a certain Fate as we grow into mature warriors."

"Yes," I mumbled, gently massaging my thumbs into her hips. Having her settled across my lap was an acute form of torture. There was no way she couldn't feel how hard I was through my leathers. "Usually, the alignment with a Fate has to do with the time of year a Starsearcher is born or the positioning of the stars, but there are apparently cases when?—"

"I'm aligned to nine."

"Nine?" I nearly shouted, my eyes shooting open. Luckily, Vale had been prepared for that reaction and had tied and cut the stitches before she said it.

She moved to climb off my lap, but I held her hips tighter. "Isn't being aligned with even two fates rare, Vale?"

She nodded slowly. My mind whirled, trying to track down pieces that made this make any sense.

Cruelty and Adoration , she'd once told me. But for my spirit, I couldn't remember a time she said that was her only tie. Only that she received powerful readings from the Fate. So carefully deceptive with her words.

"So, what does that mean?" I asked, ignoring the discomfort from that reminder.

"It means…" She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and sank into me. "It means that when City Council learned of a powerful young searcher in their town—before even all nine Fate ties had revealed themselves—they reported it to Lumin Temple. And the masters collected me from my family when I was four. I suffered at their hands for four years before Titus caught wind of my existence and rescued me…or took me?"

Her words tilted up at the end, like she still wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. I knew how I wanted to. My fingers dug into her hips at the thought of the chancellor beneath my scythe.

Of any of them. This council or the temple masters. The latter were within reach. I could go now, make them regret ever laying a fucking hand on her. I had enough blades in the room for each of them to receive their own, surely.

Vale's palm cupped my cheek, pulling me from the murderous intention I shouldn't be having over her.

"I think my connection to nine is tied to why we're here, though."

And that reminder was a cool splash of water over me.

"Right," I said, swallowing the anger. "Nine fates, messed up readings. There must be a connection. Who knows of your alignment?"

For a moment, hurt flashed through her eyes at my abruptness, and she stiffened.

I didn't move her off me, though. She seemed to be waiting for it, but after tonight—after the truths she'd just given me—I took a break in pushing her away. I wanted her as close as possible.

So, I dragged my hands up her sides, around her ribs, and back down, repeating the action until she met my gaze. "Give me all the pieces, Stargirl, so we can figure this out together."

That name relaxed her, something uncoiling within me in turn. A bit of my leash slipping.

"Harlen didn't know." Spirits bless her for knowing he'd still be in the back of my mind. "None of the children at the temple with me knew, and as far as I understand, when Titus brought me on as his apprentice, only he knew."

"He made you his apprentice at eight years old?"

She nodded. "I started reading for him immediately. The official declaration came only a few months later, and he inked over the brand shortly after that."

At the reminder, my hand slid to that tattoo. Hatred curdled in my chest because of what it did to her. How she felt a twisted loyalty to it, how she still felt obligated to please Titus because he'd overridden her debt to the temple masters.

"And I was beholden to him." Vale took a huge breath before continuing, seeming almost painfully conflicted. "That's why I couldn't go against his wishes to sabotage my readings or confess that I'm aligned to nine Fates. He saved me from so many horrors, and he knows about my Fate ties. I don't know what they mean, but I can't turn away that relationship."

How much of a relationship did they truly have? While Titus had freed her, was a different captor really a worthy solution?

One thing was clear: I needed to uncover what the chancellor was up to. Something about Vale's entire story didn't settle right within me.

But that wasn't important right now.

She continued, "I thought about defying him sometimes, but every time I was about to, I heard his voice reminding me how dangerous my secret was."

Brushing across the tattooed brand, I wound a strand of her hair around my finger. Spun it and let go, continuing my journey down her arm until I found her hand. Then, I interlocked our fingers.

"Why are you telling me now?" I asked.

"Because tonight I realized that maybe Titus isn't the one with my best intentions at heart." She blinked back tears, her grip curling around mine. "Titus hasn't written to me since Daminius, Cypherion. The letters have all been from someone else. I don't recognize the handwriting, but it isn't his."

There was such a vulnerable abandonment in her voice—it was the most she'd ever let her walls down.

Fury burned through me. "He deserted you?"

After using her, he left her to our discretion—a clan she had deceived. That fucking protector left her.

"I don't know." Admitting that seemed to weigh her down, so I bit back every accusation I wanted to let soar and instead tilted her chin up to look at me.

"We're going to figure it out, Vale," I promised. "What it means, why your sessions are hurting you, and how it ties back to Ophelia. I swear, we're going to get the answers you deserve. You've lived far too long without them."

Warning flared in the back of my mind at the sincerity in my words, the brightening of her eyes, and the way I liked seeing her happy. But for the moment, I told it to shut up. Now that Vale and I had been forced to talk about parts of this mess, it was harder to hate her. Harder to pretend I didn't care.

With the way her confession about Titus's abandonment ignited fury within me, I knew that was a losing battle.

The fucking chancellor…

He'd been manipulating her all these years.

"I'm sorry I never told you," Vale said, and I froze.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. She seemed to deflate at saying those words. "About the Fates and my past and Titus's rules. I wanted to, but I thought Titus would somehow know. Being back here, though…I've realized that I'm so small. And my movements don't upset the balance as I thought they did. And if I'd realized that sooner, I would have told you everything."

"Some of that is right," I said. "You're not some small thing in the universe, though. You should be free to make decisions without being beholden to him, but you have a connection to nine Fates when most Starsearchers only have one. That's not small, Vale. You aren't unimportant to the universe."

She was reinstating herself as the center of mine, and that was a problem for another night, when we weren't both bloodied and broken. Tonight, I wanted to set down the armor. I wanted to rest knowing she was safe and admit to myself that fact mattered.

"I'm still sorry…"

"That's the first time you've said that," I said.

She blinked those wide olive eyes. "What?"

"In all of these months since the Battle of Damenal, you haven't once told me you were sorry."

"Did you think I wasn't?"

"Yes," I admitted. "For a while, I thought you'd only ever meant to use me and leave. That you didn't care what your lies risked. And until now, I didn't know what to think. Because you never said a word."

"I mean it," she said, and she shifted closer to me, our chests brushing together. Her hands came around the back of my neck. "I am sorry, and I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I'm sorry for both of us that I didn't start asking questions sooner. And I'm sorry for my role in allowing Damenal to be sacked. For not trying to see it ahead of time and fortifying the borders as we could have. I'm sorry for putting the people you love at risk, because I know how much your life is wound to theirs, and I'm sorry for getting us here."

Her lips were only a breath from mine. She was so close that I couldn't pick apart every apology she'd just made. I was certain there were some in there that I needed to comment on, but Spirits, it was hard to think with her against me. I could see the individual streaks of color in her eyes. Could smell nothing but starlight.

Was it possible for someone to smell like starlight? That's what I always thought of when Vale was close to me. Like a clear midnight sky, free and promising, and that scent consumed me now. It was all over her, I remembered. Couldn't forget. She even tasted like it.

That wasn't something I should be thinking about now. Not as she was leaning closer and our lips would brush if I tilted my head at just the right angle.

Instead, I stood, locking her legs around my hips. "Let's go to bed. It's been a long night."

I carried her through the window because I didn't believe she wasn't still exhausted. Not because I wanted to hold her longer. Definitely not.

This was best for both of us. Our emotions weren't steady after everything tonight. We needed to recover. To think. To reassess.

When I finally set her on the floor, she laughed.

"What?" I asked, latching the window behind us.

Vale inclined her head, the smile on her lips slicing through my chest.

Looking over her shoulder, I grumbled, "There's always only one fucking bed."

I made Vale take the bed again and settled on my sleeping mat.

The fire crackled beside my head as I laid on my back, eyes locked on the ceiling and mind replaying everything she'd said.

"Cypherion Kastroff." Vale's voice cut through the room, impatient and admonishing. I propped myself on an elbow to meet her eyes, glowing in the dark. "Stop being such a stubborn ass, and sleep in the damn bed."