I should walk away and leave her with all of her complicated, girlie emotions. But this is my room.
Plus . . . I feel bad.
I know I didn’t actually do anything wrong. The Gales made the promise to her—not me. And I’ve made it very clear that I’m not interested.
But still. It had to suck finding out that way.
“Hey,” I mumble when I can’t stand the silence anymore. “I . . . I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t feel like I could say anything until Audra was back.”
She closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. “So did you guys just . . . ? Or were you before . . . ?”
I’m not great at deciphering vague girl-talk. But I think she’s asking how long Audra and I have been bonded. “We, uh, made it official about a month ago.”
She nods like that doesn’t surprise her, then turns her back on me and walks to the window. “So there was never a chance,” she whispers.
I sigh. “The thing is—Audra and I have always had a connection. Even when we were kids. I don’t know how to explain it, but it goes back way before you and I were supposed to . . . you know.”
“And yet, she still left,” she says, turning back to face me. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Well, I missed her, if that’s what you mean.”
“What about the pain?”
My hand automatically darts to my chest, but the burning ache is gone, replaced with the heat of Audra’s touch—like every spark that shot between us filled the empty space that used to be there.
“It was brutal, wasn’t it?” Solana asks quietly. “That’s why you were such a mess the night the Gales called me to help you sleep, isn’t it?”
Actually, it was because I thought Audra had ended things with me—but I have a feeling telling her that is only going to make this worse. “I was fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “One of my guardians was separated from her husband—and every day she stayed away, every mile she put between them, the more their bond tore her apart inside. There were days she could barely breathe. I used to watch it and wonder how she could bear it. And I worried for her husband, suffering every day and knowing she could spare them both the agony if she just went home.”
“I guess when you love someone, you don’t mind making sacrifices,” I say, making sure to emphasize the word “love.”
I have a feeling she’s talking about Gus’s family—and his mom had pretty darn good reasons for needing her space.
Just like Audra did.
“You really love her?” Solana whispers.
I can hear the plea in her voice, but I can’t give her what she wants. “I do.”
Her eyes well with tears and she turns away, spinning the gold cuff on her wrist again.
Why won’t she just take it off?
Probably the same reason I wouldn’t even consider the betrothal.
I wish there was something I could say to make it better. But all I have is the same lame thing I’ve already said. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did. I doubt you have any idea how much.” She reaches up and starts tracing lines on the window with her finger. “Do you know what this is?”
It looks kinda like a trippy clover, with the four leaves made out of four spirals.
“No.”
“It’s the Southwell crest. The mark for my family that was woven into the gates of Brezengarde. Or it was, before Raiden invaded the capital and replaced the symbol with his storm clouds. I’ve been dreaming of the day I would see it restored. The Gales have a huge celebration planned, so our whole world can see that things have been set right. And now I’ll get to stand there on the sidelines at the coronation, watching my family’s legacy be handed over to someone else.”
My insides get all tangly.
All the times the Gales have talked about making me their king—I never thought about the fact that I’d be taking that role from someone else. No wonder they decided it would be simpler for me to just marry Solana.
“Look, Solana. I don’t even want to be king. I’d be more than happy to hand it all back.”
“They won’t let you.” She reaches up and smears away the squiggles on the glass, leaving a big, blank streak. “You’re the last Westerly. The one everyone’s been waiting for. I’m just the girl you didn’t want.”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and then her shoulders are shaking and . . . crap—I can’t just stand here and let her cry.
I move to her side, wondering what I’m supposed to do. A hug seems super-inappropriate given the mountain of complications between us. But how else do you comfort someone who’s crying?
I finally settle for putting my hand on her back. She doesn’t flinch at my touch, but she doesn’t stop crying, either, and it feels wrong just leaving my hand there, like this stupid dead weight. So I sweep her hair out of the way and rub her shoulders. It’s what my mom used to do when she was trying to calm me, and I figure she’s probably way better at this than I am.
“I really am sorry, Solana. If I could change anything, I would. I’ll even talk to the Gales, see if there’s something they can do. I don’t know if there is, but it’s worth a try.”
Movement near the doorway catches my eye, and I jerk away from Solana when I find Audra standing there in my favorite Batman shirt.
In only my favorite Batman shirt.
I know I should probably be wondering how long she’d been there or if she was bothered by seeing me rub Solana’s back—but all I can think about is how much I love having her in my shirt, in my room, like this is exactly where she belongs.
“How’s your wound?” I ask when my voice is working again.
“Better now.” Her hand darts to her side, rubbing where the bandage must be—which makes the shirt hike even farther up her legs.
I forgot how long they were. And smooth. And . . .
Audra must notice where I’m looking, because she blushes. “Your mom’s washing my clothes, so she gave me this to wear in the meantime. She gave me some of her pants, too, but they slid off my hips. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind?
The only thing I mind is that Solana’s still standing there, refusing to leave us alone so Audra and I can get started on all the making-up-for-lost-time-by-making-out that I’ve been planning.
“I brought you some ice for those bruises,” my mom announces as she comes back into my bedroom. I notice her double take when she sees what Audra’s wearing, but she doesn’t say anything. Probably because Solana’s dress is way shorter. “And I set up some blankets for Audra on the couch.”
“Audra’s not sleeping on the couch, Mom.”
“Oh, really? Then where is she sleeping? Because she’s not sleeping here, Vane.”
“We’ll play by your rules—one of us on top of the covers and we’ll keep the door open.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Why not? It was good enough for Solana.”
“Yes, but you aren’t dating Solana.”
“Dating,” Solana mumbles. “They’re a little past that now.”
My mom’s eyes narrow. “What does she mean?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, but Solana won’t let it go.
“You’re not going to tell her?” she asks me.
“Tell me what?”
I can only imagine what kind of crazy theories my mom’s coming up with, but I have a feeling the truth is going to be just as bad.
Still, I can’t think of a lie to fix this, so I take Audra’s hand, focusing on my feet as I say, “Audra and I are bonded.”
The room falls painfully silent, and I swear all the air disappears, because I can’t breathe anymore. My mom must not be breathing either, because her voice sounds superstrained when she asks, “What does ‘bonded’ mean?”