Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(65)

For what, I’m not sure.

Hopefully, for a new beginning.

But deep down it feels like the beginning of the end.





CHAPTER 37


VANE


I wanted to lean in and kiss her so badly I thought my body might explode from the pent-up pressure—but I fought the urge.

Not because I think it’s wrong. Not because I’m scared of her army. Shoot—if I’m their future king, then I’m the one with the power. No way I’ll let them charge Audra with treason.

But Audra’s too . . . broken.

It’s like something shattered inside her years ago, and until she fixes it, she’ll just keep shoving me away. I have to wait until she’s ready.

Huh—I’m actually figuring her out.

Cool.

The winds pick up speed the farther the pier takes us out over the ocean. I try to listen to their songs, but all I hear is a loud hiss, like static. My nerves knot into a big ball in the pit of my stomach and by the time we make it to the pier’s edge, I kinda want to hurl over the railing.

What if I can’t do this?

What if I’m . . . defective?

Great—like I need more pressure. Now I really am going to hurl.

The end of the pier is empty, probably because the wind is so strong. I lean against the blue railing and try to look way more relaxed than I feel. “So, how do we do this?”

“I don’t know,” Audra admits. “I guess you have to sit back, close your eyes, and hope your instincts do the rest.”

That really isn’t much of a plan. I can’t think of anything better, though, so I flop onto an empty bench. Audra tries to pull her hand away, but I tug her onto the bench next to me. Close enough for our legs to touch. “I need you with me for this. In case you have to bring me back when I have the breakthrough.”

Her body radiates as much tension as it does heat, but she doesn’t pull away.

Good.

I try to concentrate on the songs. It feels like fifty people are whisper-shouting at me in a foreign language.

“Just relax,” Audra tells me. “Let your mind drift with the winds. Follow their lead and hope they accept you.”

That falls into the category of advice that sounds helpful but actually makes no freaking sense. But I try to do as she says.

Yeah . . . it works as well as I figured.

Doesn’t help that the bench is arguably the most uncomfortable seat ever invented. Cold wooden slats dig into my back. I slouch, and they dig in more. I try to lean my head back, but my neck throbs. I shift again and my butt goes numb.

“What are you doing?” Audra asks as I reposition again, this time lying across the bench on my back.

She’s probably referring to the fact that I’ve rested my head in her lap. Hey, when I see an opportunity, I take it.

“Do you want me to be able to concentrate or not?”

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t shove me away.

Awesome.

And actually . . . being this close to Audra makes everything else fade away. I focus on each Westerly as it slides across my face and feel the pull I felt at the wind farm.

My heritage is calling the winds.

But the winds don’t respond.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. I lose track of reality. My whole world narrows to me and those drafts. And the more my mind reaches for them, the faster they pull away.

Isaac likes to tease his sister’s cat with a laser pointer. I always thought it was hilarious—but as I lie here, grasping for something that insists on staying just out of my reach, I feel sorry for that dumb cat, chasing a red dot it will never catch.

The winds whip and swirl, and I feel my body move with the drafts. But no matter what I do, they won’t reach deep enough inside me, to the part that craves them so strongly it actually aches.

Then . . . something shifts.

A small strand of wind lets me breathe it in, and it slips inside my mind. It darts around my consciousness, stirring feelings I can’t understand because I have nothing to attach them to. I strain to focus, grasping for whatever piece of myself the wind needs to make a connection. But I can’t find what it wants, and the longer it’s in there, the harder it thrashes.

Sparks flash behind by eyes and my stomach cramps. I want to vomit, but I can’t move, can’t think. Can only lie there as a million different splinters rip apart my skull and slam into my brain.

I hear myself groan.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s Audra’s voice. I know I should answer, but the throbbing has taken over my body. I’m not Vane anymore. I’m a lump of pain.

“Vane?” Audra calls. “Vane, wake up.”

Her warm hands press against my face—or I assume they do, based on the electric shocks that jolt me.

But it’s not enough to pull me back from the agony.

My brain fuzzes and I can’t fight it anymore. Darkness swallows me whole.





CHAPTER 38


AUDRA


This isn’t happening. There’s no way this can possibly be happening again. My whole body trembles as I fumble to get a better hold on Vane’s limp body.

I shake his shoulders, trying to jar him awake.

Useless.

His chest rises and falls, but they’re slow, shallow breaths.