Let the Storm Break (Sky Fall #2)(75)

During my training they always worked in small groups. Bases of

five or ten at the most, to make sure we never opened ourselves up to

too many casualties. And once I was assigned to Vane, I was alone. If Raiden’s killed forty-one Gales—even if twenty-nine of those

were his recent capture—he must’ve taken down most of the nearby

bases. And if he wins today he’ll have wiped out the bulk of our

Pacific Fleet. I wish we had time to call the other fleets for aid, but

I’m sure that’s why Raiden is moving quickly. He doesn’t want us to

have a chance to regroup.

My legs feel heavy as we weave through the familiar overgrown

trees, but I stuff my exhaustion away. I’m no stranger to sleepless

nights.

Still, I wish I had time to steal away to the mountains for fresh

air to revive me. Instead I head straight to the sun-bleached walls of

my shelter.

Vane was right about the mess, and paired with the heat and

the bugs swarming everywhere, it’s hard to imagine that I actually

lived here. I never truly thought of this place as my home, but as I

cross into the small corner of shade under the few remaining eaves,

I realize that, for better or worse, these crumbling walls know the

story of my life.

I pull my windslicer from the slit I carved into the floor and

check the needles to make sure they’re not bent or tarnished. “This must’ve been a tough assignment,” Gus says, kicking away

a couple of date roaches. “I don’t know how you did it. I mean, living

in this piece of crap, having to stay hidden, putting up with Vane—

though clearly that last one wasn’t as challenging for you.” “Actually, having feelings for Vane was the hardest part. Despite

what you may think, I did try to fight them.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Gus. You don’t have to pretend that you don’t think I’m

a traitor for bonding to him.”

“Good, because I don’t.”

I nearly prick my finger on a needle. “You don’t?”

He crunches a few more roaches as he comes to stand beside me.

“No. It’s a mess—I’ll give you guys that. But if this is what you both

want, I don’t think the Gales should have the right to interfere. And

I will never support them if they try to break you apart.” I’m almost too stunned to speak. But I manage a weak “Thank you.” That’s one vote in our favor at least. I wonder how many others . . . “How does it even work?” he asks quietly. “Like, how do you

break a bond?”

“Aston didn’t say. He told me our instincts can guide us if we

decide to do it ourselves, and that it’s a bit like shifting forms.

But if someone does it to you, all he said is that it would be very

unpleasant.”

Gus shudders. “Sounds like an understatement.”

“Yes, it does.”

The holes in Aston’s skin flash through my mind.

Vane is so much a part of me now, I can’t imagine I’d be any

less scarred if someone ripped him away. But I shove my worries

to the same place I shoved my weariness. I have a lot of wind

spikes to make.

I build them the new way Vane used, with only one of each

wind united together. They turn sleek and deep blue and more

deadly than I even remember, and with each new spike, I whisper

a silent plea that I’m making the right choice by sharing them

with the Gales.

“Is that your bird?” Gus asks, pointing to the top of the tallest

palm. “Because that would explain a lot. Freaking thing screeches his

head off every morning at sunrise, and the only reason I didn’t blast

him across the country is because Vane wouldn’t let me.” I smile sadly. “Gavin was used to me coming home at that time.” It takes several deep breaths to work up the courage to finally

look where Gus is pointing.

I could’ve taken Gavin with me when I left, could’ve let him

fly beside me for my journey, the way he did every day since he

became mine. But after all the ways my mother lied and deceived

me through him, all the misplaced blame and guilt—even though it

wasn’t Gavin’s fault—I couldn’t have him with me.

Even now, as I stare into his angry red-orange eyes, part of me

wants to look away. But then I’d be as bad as her, turning my back on

someone who needs me, simply because it hurts.

I hold out my arm and call Gavin to my side.

For a second he ignores me. Then he spreads his strong gray wings and dives, landing on my wrist with an earsplitting shriek. His talons cut in just enough to let me know he hasn’t forgiven me, but not enough to draw blood. A happy truce I’m willing to accept as I

reach up and stroke the silky feathers along his neck.

“A storm is coming,” I tell him, beginning to understand why

Vane had to warn his friend. “You have to get somewhere safe. Head

as far south as you can and don’t return until the skies clear.” Gavin screeches again, and his wings don’t budge. But when I