Starkeeper of the Fractured Crown

She was far from it and lately I had found myself becoming drunk on her presence.

It had started out as a mere curiosity. I had seen her scaling the top of a building with the grace of a feline.

I followed her for some time, watching her steal things from the unknowing with a grin on her face. The risks she took set fire to my soul. She laughed at them, at how slow they were. She cackled.

There were lines I didn’t cross. I hadn’t yet gone into either of her two houses. I only knew her by one name, Astraea, the name she gave those Nightwalkers on her secret street. I even spoke to her once. Just because I needed to hear her speak to me.

She had replied with a simple yet irritated ‘hello’ that had set my teeth on edge, set fire to my skin. The low, husky voice of a seductress.

I couldn’t stay away now.

I was completely obsessed. I was utterlyownedby this woman and soon, she would understand that she belonged to me.

And I wasn’t some sort of psychopath. I didn’t believe that destiny had brought us together. I didn’t have a painting of her that I fucked every second of every day.

All I wanted was to shatter her in every way a person could be shattered and then take those pieces and swallow them whole until there was no me and no her, justus.

Until she understood that I cravedher beyond rationality. Beyond hope, beyond reason.

She was mine. And if anyone challenged that, I’d show them exactly what my shadows could do.

It’s been almost a year since I first set eyes upon my beautiful little addiction. 355 days to be exact, and I felt myself slowly losing my carefully constructed control. It wasn’t something I was used to. In fact, I almost loathed her for it.

It would take time to convince her that this thing between us was all-consuming, but it was time I claimed what was mine.

~~~

Kyra

The Impossible Street was exactly 53 steps down an alley that no one else could see.

I had questioned it since the second I found it. Questioned how the people there had remained safe from the tyranny of the High King. Questioned why the other High Kings and High Queens allowed them to come here. If they knew of its existence but no one said a word about it.

I wondered what people saw if they ever caught me slipping down the alley. Would they see a girl stepping through a brick wall, convincing themselves that they hadn’t eaten enough that day? Or perhaps there was a strong magic surrounding it, casting a spell to protect me long before I even approached the street.

Or maybe the people of Therian just didn’t care enough to wonder.

Whatever it was, I always felt a sort of thrill when I finally stepped forward. A thrill that sang through my body and caused a shiver to run down my spine. It only lasted a second, but it was a second of pure and absolute bliss.

I sent a covert glance up and down the street before slipping down the alley. It looked like every other alley in this city, but this one was far more important. It didn’t just protect me from the guards or the merchants trying to chase down their stolen goods, it saved me from this life. Just for a moment. For a single second, I was free.

Despite the orange glow of the setting sun, the street was alive and teeming. There were pixies selling cursed potions, Fae showing off their Elfhaven forged blades, warlocks looking for binding deals, and wolves discussing their latest hunts.

I inhaled deeply. The air was different here too. More familiar. More like a place I wanted to belong to rather than the one I was born into, but what wayward woman didn’t dream of running off to a magical place every now and again?

I felt the tension in my shoulders ease on the exhale. I had once asked if this place was the only one of its kind. I never got an answer, so the stories in my head began to grow. Maybe it had been a safe haven created by the gods so their people could be safe during the wars. Or maybe powerful magic-users had created it to get out from under the noses of their rulers.

Perhaps it was far simpler than that. Perhaps it was built simply for traders to trade to whomeverthey pleased.

The street was always beautiful. Stone buildings, blooming gardens, moss breaking through the cobblestone, despite the chilling weather. The Fae did their best to keep things growing up until the very moment the first snowflake fell, and then everything shifted into a beautiful winter wonderland.

I started down the sidewalk, pulling my hood further over my head, running my fingers across my veil to make sure it sat securely over my nose. I hadn’t always worn it. At 8 years of age, it hadn’t been a thought in my mind, but by the time I had turned 10, the veil had become a permanent part of who I was.

Many of the people here had a good idea of what I might look like because of that, but thankfully they never said a word.

I adjusted my satchel and tossed over small smiles at those passing by, admiring how they looked. The regalness of the warlocks, the ruggedness of the wolves, the undeniable beauty of the Fae. How could anyone look around at the Nightwalkers and believe they were so evil?

Yes, there were some who made terrible decisions, the royals especially, but the decisions of the kings meant nothing about their people.