Star-Crossed

Chapter Fifteen: 'Cause you get lighter the more it gets dark

I CAN BARELY process anything as my body sways, apparently still in shock over what just happened. The ground is coming up fast, rushing up to meet my face. The sand never makes contact with my face, though, because a warm arm is wrapped around my waist, catching me before I keel over.

At first, I am struck by the familiarity of Xerxion's touch. These are the same arms that held me so many times before in my dreams of memories. Then, I'm reminded that he's actually touching me. His strong arm wrapped all the way around my waist as he pulls me up effortlessly, shifting so that I'm standing behind him as he shields me protectively.

"You Warped us here," Xerxion says this matter-of-factly as he faces Ithuriel. "You know the supreme ruler of our Sector forbids us using our technology on other planets-especially Earth-unless absolutely necessary."

Ithuriel steps forward just as a chilling wind blows past us. Unconsciously, I huddle closer to Xerxion's back as this wind and this situation chill me to the bone. When the wind blows, the sand shifts along with it, tiny grains dancing in the frigid breeze.

"I think this is as important a situation as any," Ithuriel speaks, his cat-like eyes flickering up from Xerxion's and meeting mine. "Your Highness." He bows slightly, but somehow it seems more mocking than respectful.

Xerxion moves swiftly, his hand grazing my stomach as he forces me back gently. In the same instant my legs move back as butterflies dance around and my skin warms where he touched me through the thin fabric of my shirt, Xerxion has pulled out both of his swords, standing still as he faces Ithuriel, Fauvian, and Halcyon, quietly daring them to make a move.

"You truly are a brute, Xerxion," Ithuriel murmurs mockingly, pulling out his own sword. "All you seem to want is to fight. I suppose since you live on a planet of mindless warriors, it really isn't a big surprise."

Xerxion doesn't even dignify Ithuriel's obvious attempts to rile him up with a response. Instead, he moves forward swiftly, dealing out deadly blows with his sword as I stand there, watching them helplessly.

With everything painted silver under the moon's radiant glow, Xerxion and Ithuriel's bright swords move so quickly they are almost like shooting stars.

Fauvian is the first to make a move, stepping toward me when he is sure Xerxion is distracted. I move automatically to take a step back only to find it's unnecessary. Xerxion has sped over to Fauvian, hitting him in the temple with the hilt of his sword before moving to kick his feet out from underneath him, knocking him off balance. He returns to his fight with Ithuriel as if nothing even happened.

Eventually, the two come to a clash, their swords meeting in the middle as they stare each other down. The air around them is thick with an emotion one can only describe as pure hatred for one another.

"Well, what is this? Such hatred on your face, lapdog," says Ithuriel mockingly, the moon shining on his skin in a way that emphasized the three striking claw marks. "Such an interesting development considering you're so emotionless. I wonder what I've done to anger you." Although Ithuriel says he's curious about what he's done to anger Xerxion, the cadence of his tone suggests he couldn't care less. Instead, it seems he's basking in the fact that he's somehow gotten a rise out of Xerxion.

My attention is diverted from them because at that moment, I feel a cold presence behind me. Whirling around, I see Halcyon standing there. The thing about Halcyon is she's completely expressionless. I've heard the word expressionless so many times, but the fact of the matter is I'd never truly seen a face devoid of expression until the moment I saw Halcyon. Her blonde hair gleams white, her pale skin looking almost silver under the moonlight as she reaches for me.