The Stars are Dying : (Nytefall: Book 1)

I balanced on the precarious edge of my balcony railing. I enjoyed the exhilarating view from this great height and the freedom that encased me, though the very real possibility I could plummet to my death in an attempt to leap across to Rose’s balcony kept my hand glued to the wall and my feet planted with reluctance.

My body believed it to be ridiculous that I’d been debating the jump for so long, but my mind taunted me, stretching the gap wider with the illusion it was too far. With a huff to myself, I firmed my stance, preparing to leap…

The shallow creak of the door bounced my heart up into my throat. My balance wobbled, and I clung to the wall as though it would save me.

“Shit,” I choked.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I think that’s rather obvious.”

Rose looked me over with disgruntled disapproval. “Get down before you make this Libertatem one person easier for those bastards.” She walked over to her railing, hauling herself up as I retreated to the safety of mine.

Rose leaped across as if it were as easy as a step. My mouth snapped shut at her smirk.

“I wasn’t hesitating for long,” I grumbled.

Her chuckle followed me inside. “If I’d had to wait any longer for you to try, I would have considered taking a nap.”

“You make it look easy.”

“I’ve trained my whole life. It is easy if you’ve leaped rooftops at least three times the distance like me.”

I turned to her, wracked with unease to be in front of such a skilled person. To be in competition against her, though I didn’t want to think about that.

Rose crossed her arms after closing my door. “Want to tell me what you thought was so important in the middle of the night to be intruding on me?”

“Did you find the first key piece?” I asked. It had been over a week since I’d retrieved mine.

Rose dipped a hand into her pocket, and I relaxed with relief at seeing the metal. She began a casual toss of it into the air. “Three days ago. You can call off your guard dog—he’s grating on my nerves.”

“Can’t you just accept help?”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“You don’t need to.”

Rose curved a brow at me. “I didn’t pin you to be so assertive.” She paced to the firepit.

“Why did Cassia write to you?”

That was what had truly been on my mind since the first mention of it. I’d been trying to figure out what else Cassia might have kept from me and what she already knew of the Libertatem.

“I wrote to her first, actually.” Rose’s tone took on a somber edge as she sat in the armchair by the fire. I copied her, desperate to hear this tale. “When her mother passed, everyone heard about it as the Reigning Lord of Alisus’s wife. I lost my mother around the same time, and I guess you could say it was my weak child’s heart that was aching for someone to reach out to.”

“I think that’s brave,” I interjected quietly, but my clasped hands tightened when she seemed to reject my words.

Her jaw worked and she stared into the flames as though trying to deny I was here at all while she spoke of her past. “I was orphaned, and I had nothing to lose by writing that letter. I begged a border guard, offering what little coin I had left, and I guess he took pity on me. He became our way to pass letters from then on.”

Of course Cassia would answer her letter. My eyes watered, but I smiled, fighting the tears from falling when my chest clenched painfully with the memory of her.

“We decided we were going to win our trials and become our kingdoms’ Selecteds for this barbaric parade.”

“You didn’t come here to win it,” I said, my voice barely audible as my adrenaline raced even though I couldn’t figure out their alternate plan.

“Neither did she.”

My heart could have stopped with the revelation.

Rose sat up and looked around the room as if the walls had eyes. “Have you ever heard of the name Nightsdeath?”

I blinked, haunted by it. “Yes,” I breathed.

“He’s the reason the king is so feared. He doesn’t just kill people by ordinary means; he is death. Some say a God of Death, able to kill masses and fulfill horrors in the minds of men. He is what keeps even the vampires afraid, and he leads most of the king’s armies. His heart is black and he does not know mercy.”

I turned so cold I had to stand and pace to the fire Davina had lit for me earlier. “What about him?” I dreaded to ask.

“Without Nightsdeath, the king is nothing.”

“How do you expect to find him?”

“We already have.”

My pacing stopped and my heart lurched up my throat.

“The prince. It has to be him.”

I almost relaxed as the face with warm caramel eyes didn’t register with the chilling name. “I don’t think you have that right,” I said.

“Why? Because he has leaned in close and flashed you a dashing grin? I need you to be less naïve if you’re ever going to help carry this through.”

“I’m trying,” I defended. Running a hand of exasperation over my face, I tried to think it over. My mind kept rebelling against Rose and Cassia’s conclusion, but she seemed so sure.

So did Nyte.

If this were true, his warnings settled with a new clarity.

“Cassia and I have been figuring this out for many months.”

“Wouldn’t people have seen him? The kingdoms would know the prince is the notorious Nightsdeath.” I could hardly say the name without shivering.

“They say a person rarely lives past getting a glimpse of him. He’s only known to arrive for one reason: to kill the king’s problems. What better way to hide than in plain sight? He likes secret weapons.”

Yes, he does. I turned nauseas as I recalled Nyte’s insight into the king’s transitioned vampires. I didn’t think burdening Rose with that knowledge would be helpful to her game right now.

My head spun, and I sank down into the chair with heavy breaths.

“You need to keep yourself together,” Rose said, firm but with a note of understanding. “You chose to take her place, and I’m holding faith you can handle the plan we’ve had set in place for years. Fate isn’t fair to cast this on you, but it is our only hope.”

I didn’t voice that I’d come fully prepared to die here. Scheming to take down the face of the realm’s nightmares was not a part of that plan.

“What was your plan?” I asked because it was too late for anything else now. Still my blood roared, unwilling to hear the answer.

“When falls Night, the world will drown in Starlight,” she recited.

I was beginning to think everyone knew of this damn prophesy but me.

“Cassia is so certain it refers to Nightsdeath, that his fall will be what we need. She didn’t come here to play games—they were a distraction to get close to the prince. Win his heart…and end him.”

I shook my head. “I’m not Cassia.”

“You have to be.”

“I can’t.” My hands clammed up and I wrung them, trying to process what Rose was implying. “I can’t light up the room with a laugh like she could. Or stand up for what’s right no matter what like she would. I wouldn’t walk into the line of danger like her. I’m not as beautiful or extraordinary. She’s gone!” A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I swiped at it with the anger it brought forth. “I’m not brave like she was,” I whispered. Each time I placed her in the past knowing her present was gone and her future wouldn’t come, it cut fresh wounds.

“You are.” They were the softest words to ever leave the stern exterior Rose always wore.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“Nor am I giving it. Because really, you need to get yourself together. Cassia’s life was already on borrowed time, and she wanted to use the last of it to bring an end to the evil that took both our mothers. She would be honored to see you doing the same.”

My brow furrowed, and suddenly the room was too cold with the same kind of ice as lingering death. I didn’t know if I’d survive the weight of whatever made confusion twitch Rose’s face as she watched my reaction.

“What do you mean ‘borrowed time’?”

Rose matched my expression as though I were playing her for a fool, but whatever she read on me turned her features to dread. “She never told you,” she barely murmured.

I was so close to crumbling. The ground didn’t feel so solid, and I didn’t care if it caved and swallowed me to hell when the pain building in my chest could kill.

“Tell me,” I pleaded, nearly a whimper. I thought I knew, but it didn’t make sense.

Accidents can happen if one has far less time than initially thought.

The king’s warning.

No. It couldn’t be true.

“Astraea, I’m so sorry.”

I believed her. I’d never seen such sadness sweep over her.

“I thought you knew—”

“Just tell me,” I snapped.

The blade was lodged, and I needed it pulled free—even if I bled and bled and never stopped.

“The only reason the Reigning Lord of Alisus agreed to his eldest heir even trying for the Libertatem was because Cassia wasn’t supposed to live to see her twenty-third year. Five years ago she got the confirmation from a healer, one with genuine magick, and only with their infused remedies was she given more time than everyone thought. More than anything, she wanted to make it here and have her legacy be for her mother.”

The world stopped spinning.

One year, Hektor had gifted me a small ornate globe that sent flurries to the stars when it was shaken. Then, when he caught me disobeying his order, he’d shattered it right in front of me, and never again would those stars dance and shine. Now I felt myself drifting with no direction, no place, only shaken through the skies without a care about where I would land. Just like a broken constellation in that globe. That was the impact I suffered at the news of the existence I was condemned to as Rose finally clarified her meaning.

“Cassia was dying.”