He shook his head, swallowing as he rolled off her, hands still tangled. His eyes dropped to their fingers, resting against his chest before he released her hand, moving for his station on the chair.
A silent shock of betrayal crept up her back—a gnawing knowledge that his place was there, beside her.
“Just stay,” she whispered, everything within her begging to close the distance, no matter how traitorous it might be. “Stay with me.”
Luxuros put as much distance between them as he could without falling out of the cursed bed, his chest tightening with each of her movements.
The right thing to do seemed less and less viable by the moment.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
She was significantly warmer than she’d expected, cocooned against some sort of mystic light, cradled in its soft embrace in her half-awake state. She sighed, her eyes still heavy, caught halfway between reality and a dream.
Astra floated in the Rift again. This time, she slowly bobbed by a gilded gate, the light pouring from it hard to stand. It was so bright.
But she had to touch it.
The light reached back, touching its fingertip to hers, exploding into brilliant stars the moment they met. She pushed herself even further into it, letting the warmth slip over her. It embraced her in a gentle song that pulled on something within her, dragging her very soul to the surface of her skin.
She spiraled into the song, desperate for it to touch more of her, the warmth so intoxicating she thought perhaps she’d died last night. Perhaps she’d skipped the Descent altogether and risen straight to the Court Above, embraced by Mother Glory herself.
Her skin came alive, simmering under the heat, craving more as she fell into a sweltering rhythm. She moved like a leaf on the Autumn breeze, swept into a freefall she never wanted to end. She needed more of it. She wanted to drink it, to stand in it as it rained down on her in a quiet Spring shower, to let it cleanse her in holy fire.
As, it whispered, caressing her shoulder, blazing against her skin.
Don’t, she begged, don’t go.
Astra, it whispered again, fading quickly from her, the devastation more than she could bear.
Please, she whimpered, I need more.
She chased it, rolling through the mist of the Rift and clutching to the rapidly fading beams. Her fingers grasped madly for a holding point. Gods, all she wanted was to drown in it for one more moment. She wrestled against it, wrapping her legs tightly around whatever she could find, the shock in her spine at the electric current lighting up her blood enough to end her.
She’d never felt a rush like this, burning in a pillar of fire from head to toe?—
“Oh, gods,” she heard her voice whine, her muscles aching in a way she hadn’t felt in ages.
A wave of oak and leather pulled her out of the haze with a sharp start, her arms wrapped around a very warm, very asleep commander. His hands tangled against her hips, his dark curls splayed across her pillow.
She leaned into him, desperate to find the light in his chest.
“Shit!” she hissed, flying out of the bed, unable to breathe in the heat of his blood. Lux’s eyes shot open, startled.
“Shit,” he breathed, his head snapping in the other direction as they both realized she wasn’t wearing anything.
She snatched last night’s dress from the floor, holding it around her chest as she shot to the wardrobe in the corner, her heart audibly slamming against her ribs.
“Apologies, Princess.”
“Apologies!” She threw her hands up, pacing as she tried to get her head back down to this plane. Her body cried out for him, despite the litany of reasons it was completely unacceptable. She groaned, “Now we’re back to ‘Princess?’”
“Can you let me wake up before berating me?”
She rifled through the wardrobe’s contents, delighted to find a light silk shift that would at least get her home.
“We should get back,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to glance in his direction as she dressed. Had he been there with her again? Sharing in the dream? Had he been the dream? Had he heard the way she begged—oh misty Mother smite her.
