Table of Contents
Reed
Raya
Elise
Isaac
Surrendering Starlight
Did You Like Inheriting Starlight?
Acknowledgments
Also by Isadora Brown
Inheriting Starlight
Book 2 of The Starlight Trilogy
Isadora Brown
Contents
1. Reed
2. Raya
3. Elise
4. Isaac
5. Reed
6. Raya
7. Elise
8. Isaac
9. Reed
10. Raya
11. Elise
12. Isaac
13. Reed
14. Raya
15. Elise
16. Isaac
17. Reed
18. Raya
19. Elise
20. Isaac
Surrendering Starlight
Did You Like Inheriting Starlight?
Acknowledgments
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Reed
Reed's mouth drops open. He's not really one to get surprised or shock, especially to the extent of physical reaction, but what Elise has shown him constitutes a jaw drop. There are ruins of what used to be a home from long ago, long before his time. The structure was in pieces - the building material was white and solid, reminding him of marble - but still held together where it is easily recognizable. Grass grows through the frame, along with wildflowers and other greenery. It doesn't look like any human has touched it in a long time. There's no sign of living. Even the long stalks of grass don't appear to be trampled on.
In front of the structure, there's a flat bench made of the same material. It seems to have been built so the owners of the home had somewhere to sit and observe the surrounding wilderness in peace and quiet.
It is perfect.
"How'd you find this?" he asks, pulling his eyes away from the ruins and placing them on this young woman in front of him.
He doesn't understand how she's still able to surprise him. He's known her for so long and just when he thinks he has her figured out, she goes and does something like this, something where she completely surprises him. She's always keeping him on his toes, always keeping him guessing, and he's not quite sure how he feels about it, but judging by the way his lips quirk up, a part of him must approve of it.
"During breaks, I disappear," she tells him, her big, blue eyes fixed on his face. "No one thinks to look for me. No one really cares."
Her voice sounds sad with a twinge of morose. He's not the type to comfort, not the type to know how to find the right words at the right time to make her feel better. He knows he's bad at that thing. Instead, he tries to tell her what he feels by showing her, by allowing his eyes to do the talking for him. He wants her to know that that will never happen with him, that he will always come searching for her. Always.
"So I explore," she continues, shrugging her shoulders as though the disregard for her presence means nothing to her.
Reed knows better.
Reed knows how much it hurts that Elise can disappear and no one notices. That something could happen to her in these woods and no one would know until it was too late. The thought frustrates him and hurts him and makes him angry. He wishes they understood the type of person Elise is, but in order for them to do that, they would have to be aware of who she is, and he can't have that. It's too dangerous.
He looks at the young woman before him, narrows in on the tug of her lips, pulled down into an unhappy frown. The way the light in her eyes has dimmed. The blue irises look like a sad color, a color that just doesn't belong on her person, regardless of the reason. Elise is sunshine. She reminds him of bright yellows and lush greens, not morose blues. For some reason, he feels compelled to do something, to reassure her. Without stopping himself - he knows he should, he knows this is completely crossing the line, though sleeping together probably already pushed that boundary past the point truly caring about lines in the first place - he reaches out and curls one of her blonde locks around her ear. His hand drops to her shoulder and lingers. Her skin is soft and warm and it doesn't make sense that someone like him is touching someone like her.
"I would notice," he tells her. His voice isn't insistent or compassionate. It's the same tone he always uses with her, the same tone he would use to indicate that the sky is blue or that the grass is green. He's simply stating a fact, nothing more.
But this fact seems to make Elise feel better. Her lips curve up and her eyes look at him with a hint of a glimmer, something shy and sweet and innocent that makes her appear all the more desirable. The protective instinct in him surges forward and runs through his body like blood and his grip on her shoulder tightens, as though he's trying to emphasize his point with gestures rather than words.
"I know you would," she says.
Elise takes a step towards him. She's in his space, she's so close - too close - but he doesn't take a step back. He doesn't pull away from her. It feels right, being those close to her, like she takes away all the bad things he's done and makes him almost good...
And then, she does something he can't possibly understand. She tilts her head back and places her lips on his.
Raya
Raya feels her heart slamming against the inside of her chest as Isaac leads her out of the garage. She wishes his hand is pressed against the small of her back the way it had been before; for some reason, his touch has a soothing effect on her and she needs the comfort it brings now. She doesn't like confrontation but when faced with it, she's not one to back down.
As he leads her out, she can feel his energy thrum. From the corner of her eye, she notices the content smile on his face. It's like he's always happy, always charming, unless you cross him in some way, the way Lola has. Raya is glad she's on his good side. He is the best pilot in the Rebellion, after all.
"So," he says casually, his voice bringing her out of her thoughts. "What did you think?"
Raya blinks once. "I think you told her that you weren't that into her," she replies, confused as to why he needs her opinion on how he handled the Lola situation, "and if she doesn't get it, then she's an idiot you're going to have to deal with."
A surprised chuckle slips past his lips and there's a sparkle that dances around in his dark irises. His hands are behind his back and though he isn't the tallest guy, he doesn't have a bulky frame due to an exorbitant amount of muscle, he still somehow makes her feel small in the best way. His laughter is musical; she has a feeling a lot of him is musical. The way he moves has a rhythm to it that she can't help but notice. He's like the physical manifestation of a song, a melody, something you can dance to.
"I meant the ride in the Rey," he says. He is still smiling, which causes his eyes to crinkle.
Raya feels the tips of her cheeks turn pink at her misunderstanding of the question.
"Oh," she says, shaking her head. "Of course I enjoyed it. It was the most thrilling experience of my life. I never imagined myself behind the wheel of a Rey."
He beams - he's the galaxy's sun, a force so powerful it gives life and takes it away - and Raya can't look away from him even if she tried. Which she won't.
"I'm glad," he tells her.
They've reached the front gate of the base. Raya's eyes flicker to the outside, to what rested on the other side of the gate. It's empty and desolate. Raya feels her legs get heavy, like she's standing in pools of quicksand reserved just for her feet. She doesn't want to leave.
Wait. Scratch that.
She doesn
't want to leave him.
It's this odd feeling, it's something she's never felt before, this insistence to be close to someone. It's something she's actively resisted. She even keeps friends at an arm's length because she does not want them too close to her. They could always leave - and most of them usually do. Beryyn isn't a place someone aspires to settle down, not when it's so easy to leave.
The only thing tying Raya to Beryyn is Nina. If it weren't for Nina, Raya would be gone. The only problem is, she has no idea where she would go. She won't go to densely populated planets. She wants the comfort of being in a city with people surrounding her, no matter how lonely she feels. She likes the noise, the sounds of jets in the sky and various vehicles in the street. The sound of children playing outside after school and the sound of women chattering over coffee. She likes knowing she isn't by herself, that there's more to the world than her.
Raya doesn't know why Nina stays here. She thinks it probably has to do with the fact that she works as a produce accountant at a big grocery store, managing the intake of produce Teryyn sends in every month. It's not a good job based on what she gets paid and the hours she puts in but she never complains about it. It's kept a roof over their head, clothes on their back, and food in their bellies. Raya hopes that with her job - one she actually enjoys doing and pays well - it will help ease Nina's burden and maybe then they could discuss leaving this place.
Her eyes flicker over to Isaac and her heart flutters.
But maybe Beryyn has its perks. Maybe Beryyn isn't as bad as she thinks.
He's a pilot, a voice inside her head reminds her. She knows the voice is well-intentioned but it still comes out harsh and unmoving. For the Rebellion. He's not staying here, he's stationed here. That's a big difference. He could leave at any moment and there's a good chance he won't even say goodbye, even if he wanted to.
"So," Isaac says, "I'll get Finance to get you what you're owed."
Raya feels her lips curve up, silencing the voice in her head. "Yes," she says. "I think we already went over this."
He grins. "Right," he says. "I guess I'm just trying to force conversation and spend a little more time with you."
Raya wants to ask him why. Why her. Why does he look at her the way people look at sunsets or the stars or the moons? But she bites her lips because she doesn't want to be one of those girls. She doesn't want to appear insecure about who she is. Because she's not. But Isaac has this uncanny ability at making her feel off-balance and she's trying to regain her footing.
What she does next surprises even her. She steps toward him and presses her lips to his cheek. She can feel the smooth skin under her lips and she knows that if he doesn't shave every day, he'll grow some scruff quickly. She almost wishes she could see what he looks like with it; probably more rugged, more dashing. But it's hard to imagine because she likes the way he looks now.
The kiss only lasts a moment before she steps back and smiles at him. "It was an honor to meet you," she tells him and makes her way to the nearby bus stop, not looking back.
Elise
Elise steps back but not too far from him, not out of the bubble that he's surrounded himself with, a small smile on her face. She doesn't feel embarrassed or nervous. In fact, kissing Reed is the best thing she's done in a long time. She doesn't regret it. Even if he rejects her, even if he tells her that this is completely inappropriate and he's not going indulge in a girl's romantic whims. Even if he tells her he's going to be queen one day and there's no way a relationship between the two of them could ever last.
"I like you, Reed," she tells him in a gentle voice, and she knows he knows what she means. She doesn't have to explain it any further. He would know her, probably better than she knows herself. In the same way that she knows him. "I like you a lot. And nothing you can say is going to stop me from feeling that way about you."
He swallows. She watches his Adam's Apple bob up and down. She doesn't think an unconscious gesture as innocuous as that could be masculine but it is.
He opens his mouth and it looks as though he's going to respond but thinks better of it. His left hand reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. She's rendered him speechless, which isn't saying all that much considering he doesn't speak if he doesn't have to.
She waits for his response, if there's going to be one. She knows him well enough to know not to push.
Without warning, his hands grab her face and he bends down to kiss her once more. Instead of being gentle and tender - like her kiss was - his has fire in it. She's kissing fire, and when his tongue runs on her bottom lip, he trails gasoline. He tips her head back and she opens her mouth, giving him better access to pry open her lips and explore her mouth the way he wants to explore it. She lets out a small whimper of pleasure because this is something she's never had before, this burning overwhelming passion, and she wants more of it, she wants it all, but only if it comes from him.
Her whimper seems to spur him on because his hands drop from her face and fit on her hips, digging into her sides in an effort to get her closer to him, closer as can possibly be. Her hands are able to find a home in his hair, her fingers pulling and rigging on the locks of auburn that she's certain must hurt but that he doesn't even seem to feel.
Her knees buckle underneath her and he catches her heavy body with his arms. She can't stand, not while being kissed this passionately, and he doesn't force her. Instead, he eases her to the ground so her back is resting on the cool grass. She can feel the edges prick her skin while being cool and smooth at the same time. Every fiber of her being is on alert, and she can't help but shake this feeling that she wants to consume Reed, all of him, until there's nothing left except his feelings for her and her feelings for him.
He climbs on top of her so they don't have to break for air, at least not yet. Her fingers curl around his neck and push his head even closer to hers, but it's impossible for them to be any closer. There's little space between them. She can feel all of him. She can feel his strong body pressing down against her soft one - it helps that her clothes are so thin - and their tongues are fighting with each other - or are they dancing? - fighting a duel neither will win and neither will surrender.
Her hands drop to his back, her nails look for flesh to dig into, to claim. It's hard when he's wearing a shirt but his shirt is just as thin as hers and as she moves her hands up and down his back, she knows they'll leave some marks on him. Hopefully not permanent. She doesn't want to damage him if she can help it.
But he doesn't seem to care. The minute he feels her shift underneath him, her legs wrap around his waist and he moans into her mouth. He drives into her with his pelvis, pushing as far into as he can while the two of them are fully clothed. He's not trying to do anything except get closer to her. She knows that. But the feeling that comes along with this is both thrilling and nerve-racking at the same time. She's never even been kissed before - not by Stan, not by anyone - and there's a small piece of her that's worried she's not doing it right.
Well, she must be doing something right for him to respond to her the way he is.
Before she can ponder any more on the thought, a big fat drop of rain lands on her ring finger. It doesn't deter her in the slightest. It's only when the sky opens up and unleashes a full rainstorm without preamble do they both stop at the same time and look up.
"We should go home," Reed says. He's already standing up by the time his words reach her and though it's still warm, even with the rain, she can't help but feel disappointed in his lack of presence. She misses the way his body feels on top of her.
Instead of voicing her displeasure, she nods. "You're right," she says because he is. They can't stay there. They'll catch a cold.
She grabs his hand and the two make their way home. He doesn't pull it away from her.
Isaac
He doesn't want her to leave. But he doesn't have a reason for her to stay.
Isaac rubs his jaw with his palm. His mind tries to think of any excuse to call her back
, any reason to just be around her, but he can't think of anything. His mind draws a blank. Which is unusual for him. He always has a plan, and if he doesn't, he can come up with one in a speedy amount of time, no problem.
Except now he can't. Which means it is now a problem. Which means...
He shakes his head. He can't let her go. What if he never sees her again? Sure, he can probably meet her back up at the swap meet, where he first saw her yesterday, when she was trying to acquire customers. But he doesn't want to wait. He doesn't want to leave that up to chance, fate, destiny, whatever the romantics referred to it as. He's always been the type of person to be in control of his destiny, of his life. Passive isn't in his vocabulary.
So why is he allowing Raya to simply walk away?
That's not like him.
He grits his teeth and emits a tight groan. Why is he hesitating? Why can't he think straight? He shakes his head.
Before he makes a conscious decision, his feet are leading him to the gate, his fingers wrap around the knob of the door and his hands push it open. He sees her standing at the bus stop a couple of meters away, and his legs are running - there's no reason for him to hurry. The bus won't be here for another ten minutes - and his heart tightens, like someone is choking it to the point where it's going to burst into a thousand pieces. She doesn't notice him, not yet, and perhaps that is a good thing because, because he's not sure what he's thinking. He's not sure what he looks like. He's not sure if this is a good idea but he can't back down now. He doesn't want to.
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