Page 184 of Starside

Silver. Thin roots of silver, faintly sparkling through the remaining darkness.

The exact color a knight like him has trained to hunt and kill.

He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring. I can feel the heat of his eyes on my bare skin. Panic races through my blood, years of fearing knights and getting discovered rushing through me. I want to run.

But enough.

I stand very still, spine straight.

And he shakes his head. “Impossible,” he breathes. Then he lifts his gaze slightly. I can almost feel his eyes boring into mine. “How?”

I don’t want to tell him. I want to keep this secret for the rest of my life—but all the people who know this story are dead. The truth of that slams into my soul, and my eyes burn.

I have the sudden urge to tell someone. Because maybe … maybe that would lessen the shame. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone.

The words come out in a whisper. “When I was eight, my sister and I snuck out of the house. We went to a nearby cliff, to the only remaining patch of grass. We wanted to steal a few pieces. We thought we could bury it in our backyard and make the green grow. We … we were hoping to find wildflowers too. Out of nowhere, the sky changed. The storm struck. I could feel it coming. Right toward my sister.” I swallow. “I pushed her out of the way, and the lightning struck me instead.”

I take a shaking breath.

“My sister was just a little kid, but she pounded on my chest for hours. My parents eventually found us, in the rain, and my father didn’t stop trying to get my heart started again. He never stopped. He never gave up on me. None of them did. Until it worked. My eyes opened. And the red marks from the lightning turned silver.”

I don’t tell him that it’s my biggest regret, pushing my sister out of the way. That if it had hit her instead, maybe she would still be alive, after what happened later.

“Lightning,” he says roughly.

I nod.

Slowly, so slowly, he reaches toward me. He gives me more than enough time to stop him, but I don’t. I just watch as his long fingers get closer and closer to my bare skin.

Then his rough thumb is gently trailing down my neck over the markings, and I gasp. A chill rains down my spine. No one but him has ever touched me there. Anywhere, really. His thumb is callused, but his touch is featherlight, just like it was in the cave. He strokes my pulse, then across my collarbone, before following the markings down, touching me in a path, like he’s tracing a constellation. Down my chest. Farther still, until he reaches its center. His large hand splays out, his fingers curling over my breasts. My skin prickles.

Out of nowhere, he stops, ripping his hand away.

Then, without another word, he turns and leaves the cave.

“They’re silver, Jesper.”

“I know they are.” My dad sounds tired. My sister and I have our ears to the door. I sink low and peer at my parents through the keyhole.

My mother’s face is in her hands. “What are we going to do?”

My father places his palm on her back. “We’re going to protect her, at all costs,” he says, his voice steady. “We’ll never let them take her away.”

My mother shakes her head. “Never,” she promises. “If they find out … they’ll never stop chasing her.”

“Who?” my sister asks from up above. I shush her. I don’t really know. The king? He’s known for his greed. Perhaps he wishes he was silver.

“His knights will come for her,” my mother says, her voice now steady. “One day, they will all come, and they will try to take her. They will … they will try to destroy her.”

My father’s voice is as firm as I have ever heard it. I feel the strength of it in my bones, distilled from pure anger and determination. “Let them try.”

Just when I thought we had formed a tentative truce, we’re back to silence.

He knows about my markings. That one fact makes me feel bare, exposed, at a disadvantage. It’s one of my greatest secrets. For my entire life, I’ve hidden away, afraid that someone would find out about them and take me from my family.

Especially the knights of the king’s guard. Let alone its damned leader.

I feel shame crawling across my skin for what I am, all that confidence in tatters. The way Raker stormed out doesn’t make me feel any better.