Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(4)

I pull her closer, trying to warm her up—but why is she so cold?

I want to make sure she’s okay, but she kisses me harder—almost desperate—and I lose myself again, until I’m covered in head-to-toe goose bumps.

Since when does Audra kiss first and talk later?

And since when does she climb on top of me like she’s here to fulfill all my fantasies.

The last word feels like a slap to the face.

This is a dream.

She’s not really here.

But if this is a dream then why aren’t I waking up now? Why is she still pulling me against her, running her hands down my back—

No.

It’s not her.

As much as I want it to be, there are no sparks, no heat.

With Audra there’s always heat.

This is a lie.

A trick.

Another evil trap Raiden’s using to punish me.

I try to pull my mind free, but Audra fights back, locking her arms around me and kissing me again and again.

“No!” I shout, pushing her away.

She starts crying then. Telling me she loves me. Needs me. Can’t face another second without me. Everything I always wanted Audra to say.

“Not like this,” I whisper.

I want my strong, stubborn dream girl back, even if she’d attack me with questions—and probably a few wind tricks—long before she’d ever seduce me.

But that girl suddenly feels very far away.

Too far away. Like my consciousness has been dragged under by whatever wind Raiden sent, and no matter how much I beg my mind to wake up from this sick, twisted nightmare, I can’t find the way out.

I can’t move.

Can’t breathe.

Audra crawls back to me, whispering that everything will be okay. She kisses my neck, my chin, my lips.

I want it to be real so badly.

Maybe if I just pretend . . .

A wicked pain rips through my finger and yanks me back to reality.

I peel my eyes open and find a panicked Gus leaning over me, my pinkie smashed between his teeth.

“You bit me?”

He unclenches his jaw and I stare at the jagged line of punctures in my skin.

“I tried everything else. I even punched you in the stomach. Biting was all I had left.”

I have a feeling there was still a better option than chewing on my hand, but who knows? I can feel the sore spot on my stomach where he must’ve hit me—and I didn’t feel a thing. Raiden had me pretty good that time.

“How did you know where to find me?”

Gus rolls his eyes. “You really didn’t know I followed you? What kind of guardian do you think I am?”

I sigh, trying to figure out how I’m going to explain this mess to the Gales. But I guess it’s a good thing Gus isn’t as crappy at his job as I thought.





CHAPTER 4


AUDRA

P

anic stabs my heart, so sharp it knocks me out of the sky. Red and black rims my vision, making it impossible to see which way is up or down. I call the nearest draft to catch me, shivering as the warm Southerly stops my fall.

I’ve never experienced this kind of pain before. A tempest deep in my core, growing stronger with every breath. It only rages harder when I realize what it means.

Vane’s in danger.

Mortal danger.

The word makes me tremble, and I order the wind to change direction, letting our bond point the way. The path to Vane is laced through my heart—but the connection feels so faint.

Too faint.

Getting weaker every second.

If something happens while I’m gone I’ll never forgive myself— I’ll never recover—I’ll never . . .

The thought has no end.

There will be nothing without Vane.

I call every nearby draft, commanding them to swell into a torrent. But I know it won’t be enough.

I close my eyes and search for a Westerly.

There are none within my reach, so I shout the call, not caring if it gives away my location. Still, it feels wrong branding the wind so boldly.

A tranquil breeze sweeps in from the west and I coil it around the others, struggling to decide which command to use. Combining drafts is a game of words—coaxing them to cooperate or daring them to rebel. I’ve practiced with the other winds for most of my life, but the Westerly tongue is new. A secret power I stole from Vane with our kiss. One I’ve barely begun to master.

“Come on,” I whisper, sending the plea to the sky. “Tell me what to do.”

All I hear is the pulse in my veins.

Tears streak down my cheeks and Vane’s face fills my mind. I can picture every curve, every line. The perfect blue of his eyes and the dark brown of his warm, earthy hair.

But it’s a thin shadow of the reality.

I can’t let this memory be all I have left.

“Please,” I whisper, feeling the word sweep off my lips in the Westerly language. “Please help me.”

The words are a breathy sigh mixed with a soft hiss, and the harder I concentrate on them, the more a cool rush builds in my mind, twisting and spinning until it shapes into a word.

“Unite,” I whisper, and all winds tangle into a bubble around me. “Soar.”

The stars blur to streaks as I rush forward, and I tell myself that the power of four will help me reach him in time. But his trace is still so far away.