I know how the draft feels.
Sometimes all I want to do is rewind back to the days when my biggest problems were convincing my dad to cough up some gas money or getting teased about how I messed up yet another date. Now I don’t even need my car—and I have pretty much the hottest girlfriend on the planet, who’s sitting here next to me in an absurdly sexy red dress, stroking my back even though I’m all gross and sweaty from almost passing out around her again.
But I also have to figure out how to protect my army and all the innocent people in this valley from the creepiest dude I’ve ever met.
If only I could keep all the perks and not have to deal with the other crap.
Especially since the only way I can think of to help everyone is the same thing that’s making me stay crashed on the floor, counting my breaths and trying to figure out how to keep the promise I just made when the thought alone turns me into a useless Vane-lump.
I could make them all the special wind spikes, like I did for Gus. He didn’t need to know any Westerly commands to use it to destroy the Living Storm.
But what if some of those fall into Raiden’s hands?
If I don’t teach the Gales the voice commands, they won’t be able to call them back after they throw them or unravel them if the Stormers manage to steal them, and there’s no way I can keep track of that many wind spikes on my own.
Another wave of nausea hits me, and I go back to concentrating on the Westerly, wishing its song would tell me what to do. The only clue it gives me is the verse “don’t flee from the path”—but which path? The promise I just made? Or the path I’ve been on all this time? It could be either, and if I guess wrong . . .
I tighten my grip on Audra’s hand. “This is a lot tougher than I thought it would be.”
“I know.” Audra reaches up with her other hand, running her fingers through my hair and sending gentle ripples of heat through my head. “I feel sick thinking about it too—and I’m not really a Westerly.”
“You kinda are. Shoot—you have better control than me, and I’m pretty sure that Westerly you brought home wanted to be your pet.”
“Maybe.” She sighs, pulling her hand slowly away. “But this has to be your decision, Vane. I can’t be a part of it.”
“Why? I thought we were in this together now.”
“We are. It’s just . . .” A painful stretch of silence passes before she says, “This is your heritage—and we may not be bonded forever—and if—”
“Uh, wait a minute,” I interrupt. “Yeah we will.”
My eyes sting when I open them and find my room filled with light—the sun must’ve risen while I was panicking—but it’s worth the pain when I get another glimpse at her dress.
Holy freaking wow.
Right—focus.
“No way am I letting them break us apart,” I tell her. “Not unless . . .”
I can’t stop myself from remembering the look on Audra’s face when Os threatened us. I thought she’d looked worried, but . . .
“Unless?” Audra prompts.
I force myself to sit up, careful to stare at her face instead of the many other places I would much rather be staring. “Do you want to be bonded to me?”
“I . . . want you to be happy.”
“That’s not what I asked.” She looks away, and now I’m seriously getting worried. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
“No . . .”
Okay, it’s the right word, but the way she drags it out—like there’s supposed to be a “but” afterward—isn’t exactly reassuring.
“If something’s changed, you need to tell me. I don’t . . .” My voice hitches and I clear my throat. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”
She turns back toward me, her expression impossible to read. “I don’t want you to feel stuck with me. Now that you’ve met Solana—”
“Oh my God—is that what this is about?”
I’m so relieved I can’t help laughing as I grab her and pull her close—which turns out to be a bad idea because I’m still shirtless and holy crap her dress is backless. I take a deep breath, trying to remember what I was going to say, and finally manage to mumble, “Solana’s a nice girl, but she’ll never be you.”
“But . . . how can you want to be with the girl whose mother killed your parents?”
She dips her chin, but I tilt it back up, forcing her to look at me. “I will never blame you for that, Audra. I’m not even sure if I totally blame your mom anymore. Especially now that she’s . . .”
Audra closes her eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that sooner,” I mumble. “I didn’t know what to say.”
It’s a weak excuse even to me, but Audra lets me get away with it. She just sits there, looking so heartbreakingly sad.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“My mother?” She shakes her head. “No. She chose her own path. But . . .”
“But?” I prompt when she doesn’t finish.
Audra sighs, dropping her eyes to the neckline of her dress. I try not to follow her stare—but it’s not easy.
“What is it?” I ask quietly.
“I’m just . . . such a mess. Between my mother and the Gales and . . .” She sighs again and her whole body droops. “Solana’s so perfect and pretty and—”
There’s only one way to stop this insanity. I pull her closer and kiss her with everything I have.
She sinks into my arms, parting her lips as she presses her body against me. The rush of heat makes my head spin, or maybe that’s from all the skin touching skin. Her lips trail down my neck and I realize that if I let this keep going I won’t be able to stop—and we’re kind of running out of time here. So with the last of my willpower I kiss her one more time and break away.
“Now will you believe that I want to be with you?” I ask, grinning when I see the way she’s gasping for breath.
Her smile fades. “You could have anyone.”
“Ha! I seriously doubt that. I was hardly a hit with the human girls—and not just because of you, though you definitely didn’t help. But more important, are you ever going to stop doubting me? Or do I need to, like, get your name tattooed across my body—because I’m really not a fan of needles, but I’ll put a big ‘I Heart Audra’ right here if I need to.”
I wave my hand across my chest.
She shakes her head and I pull her back, resisting the urge to kiss her again as I whisper in her ear. “I choose you. And if anyone ever tries to break our bond, I’ll destroy them—and then I’ll chase you down and beg until you to let me form it again.”
She smiles against my neck, giving me goose bumps, before she tilts her chin up and whispers, “Then what are we going to do about Os?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t trust him,” I whisper back, feeling better just saying it out loud.
“Me either,” she admits after a second. “So you’re not going to teach him Westerly?”
“I don’t think I physically can. I feel like passing out just thinking about it. But what about the rest of the Gales? I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if I let more of them die for me—”
“It’s not your responsibility to worry about the other guardians.” She traces her fingers along the edge of my bruise, letting her sparks ease some of the ache. “You’re putting your life on the line too—and they knew the risks when they took their oath. They all know their jobs could end in their own death.”