Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(55)

“I mean, are you sure there isn’t another reason you don’t want me going out with Hannah?” I lean closer, leaving only a foot of space between our faces.

She stares at the ground. “Actually, there is.”

My heart does an extra jump.

I step toward her, gently grabbing her waist to pull her to me.

She pushes me back. “What are you doing?”

She might as well have slapped me.

She shoves past me and stalks to the opposite end of the room. Her hands pull at the ends of her braid as she paces. “There’s something I haven’t told you. I didn’t know how you would react—and I didn’t want anything to interfere with your training.”

“And that would be?” I ask when she doesn’t continue. My voice shakes with the anger I’m trying to hold back.

Her sigh feels like it lasts an eternity. “You’re . . . not free, Vane.”

That’s . . . not what I was expecting. “What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t let you go on a date tonight—or any night.”

“What, there’s some law in your world that says Vane Weston isn’t allowed to date?”

“Sort of. Remember, Vane, you’re the last Westerly. You’re not like everyone else.”

This is seriously giving me a headache. And I’m about to ask what the freaking law actually says when a horrible thought occurs to me.

“That’s why you ruined my last date with Hannah, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And if you’d just left the restaurant and gone home like I’d tried to tell you, I wouldn’t have had to call the Northerly and brand it with our traces. We’d still be safe.”

“So, you’re telling me you risked our lives just to stop me from dating?”

She straightens, and her eyes blaze. “No. I called the flurry because I had to stop you from bonding to her—and I didn’t have time to think. I just reacted.”

There are so many things wrong with that, I don’t know where to start.

Actually, I do. “Bonding? What the hell does that mean?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kissing is different for our kind than it is for the groundlings. They do it for fun, like it means nothing. For us, a kiss sparks an actual, physical change. It creates a connection between the pair who kiss, bonding them together until death parts them. That’s why I’ve always stepped in to make sure you never got that far with any of the girls I found you with. I didn’t know what would happen if you bonded with a groundling, but I couldn’t risk letting any sort of attachment form.”

I put aside the whole a single kiss sealing your fate for the rest of your life thing for a second, because it’s way too weird and crazy to think about.

What does she mean she “stepped in” with the girls she found me with?

Oh. Crap.

“It was you. All my bad luck with girls. Drinks suddenly getting knocked over by the breeze and spilling on their clothes so they’d need to go home. Birds pooping on their heads.”

Every single one of those disasters was caused by birds or wind or something in the sky. All except the Great Farting Debacle. Unless . . .

“Oh my God—you made the farting sound that day I was at the Date Festival, didn’t you? You broke the wind somehow, made it sound like a fart, and framed me for it?”

She doesn’t deny it.

I laugh.

How can I not laugh at the insanity of it all? “Do you have any idea how much you’ve jacked up my life over the last few years?”

“I know it’s been hard, Vane. But I couldn’t explain what was going on until your mind was ready to understand your heritage, and you just had a breakthrough a few days ago. In the meantime, I was under strict orders from the Gale Force to make sure you didn’t bond to anyone.”

“Why does your army give a crap about my love life?”

“Trust me when I say you won’t mind once you meet Solana.”

Solana?

I have a feeling I don’t want to know the answer to this question, but I have to ask it anyway. “Who the hell is Solana?”

“Our former king’s heir—all that’s left of the royal line after Raiden destroyed it. She’ll be crowned queen when Raiden falls.”

“And what’s she got to do with me?”

I can tell she doesn’t want to answer just as much as I don’t want to hear it. But we’ve come too far now. So she closes her eyes and whispers. “You two are betrothed.”

The word hangs over us, practically casting a shadow.

I’m betrothed.

To some spoiled princess I’ve never met.

Too. Many. Emotions bubble inside.

Anger. Annoyance. Confusion. Frustration. Fear. Rebellion. Rage.

But one feels stronger than the others, and it takes me a second to identify it.

Hurt.

Takes me another second to figure out why. “And . . . you’re okay with that?”

She looks away. Refuses to meet my eyes. But she nods.

I know I probably should leave it at that, but I can’t stop myself. “What about us?”

She doesn’t say anything, and that spurs my courage. I move toward her, trapping her against the wall. “There’s something between us, Audra.” I grab her hand, letting the familiar sparks shoot through my skin. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel that.”