“My mother commanded the shifted losses to flow to Raiden’s city, and not long after, the Gales heard reports that Raiden had declared us dead. A mistake on his part, sure—but we’re fortunate he made it. We might not have been able to hide you this long, otherwise.”
“Lucky me,” I grumble, hating her for convincing me again that I’m Vane Weston: Most Wanted Boy Alive.
“You are lucky.”
“Ugh—I’m so sick of people telling me that.”
“You have the potential to stop Raiden, Vane. Make him pay for what he’s done. I would kill for that kind of opportunity. You have no idea.”
I know I should be hungry for revenge—and I am. But the thought of me attacking Raiden makes the world spin and my spit taste sour. “How? How am I supposed to be strong enough to take him down? I don’t even know the slightest thing about any of this crap—”
“That’s what you have me for.” Her grip tightens on my shoulders. “I’m here to teach you everything you need to know. That’s my job.”
“Oh, good. I’m a job.”
I try to twist away, but she locks her arms and pulls me back. “It’s not just a job. It’s—I . . .” She stops, like she can’t find the words she needs.
I meet her gaze then, and the look I find makes me suck in a breath.
She cares.
About this job-mission-whatever-it’s-called—yes.
But beyond that—and beneath the uniform and the tight braid and the cold, hard exterior that makes her slam me into walls and wave swords in my face and seem ready to strangle me half the time—I can see the deeper truth.
She cares about me.
And that’s enough to make me put aside my fears, my worries about what they expect from me, my anger at my memories being stolen. Enough to make whatever sacrifices it takes to train for the battle that lies ahead worth it.
I probably don’t have a choice anyway, but that doesn’t matter.
She cares.
I’ll do this for her. And for the family we’ve both lost.
“I guess we need to train, then,” I say, stepping back into the charred room and peeling off my shirt—already soaked in sweat from the morning sun. I toss it in the corner and turn to face her. “Let’s get started.”
CHAPTER 14
AUDRA
I have no idea what convinced Vane to put his anger and fear and bratty, sarcastic attitude behind him, but I’m not complaining. When he stepped back into my shelter and stripped off his shirt, he became a completely different guy. Like the Vane I know was kidnapped and replaced with a serious, hardworking fighter—with incredible abs.
Not that I notice.
I try not to, at least.
It isn’t easy. Westerlies were known for being the most physically beautiful of our kind. Maybe it’s the warm, peaceful winds that nurtured them. Or something in their genes. Whatever it is, Vane’s definitely a Westerly. Nothing but sculpted, tanned muscle and long, graceful limbs. Not to mention a face with chiseled, symmetrical features and the most stunning blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
Solana’s a lucky girl.
He’s remarkable. In more than just looks.
Before the sky is bright blue with daylight, Vane masters our prime call and bends his first draft around the room. And by the time the day’s heat weighs on our shoulders like a thick, suffocating blanket, he’s learned to feel drafts over fifty miles away. Still a long way to go—when he tried to wrap the draft around his body, he didn’t hear the wind rebel and knocked himself flat on his back—but considering he had his first breakthrough yesterday, he’s amazing.
Well, until Gavin returns from his morning hunt. Then Vane’s a blur of flailing arms, shouted curses, and high-pitched screams as Gavin swoops and flaps around his head.
“What are you doing?” I shout over the commotion.
“That crazy bird is trying to kill me.” Vane grabs one of the palm fronds from my makeshift bed and runs through the room, scattering dust and broken bits of leaf as he waves the branch in wild, erratic patterns.
I race to his side and grab his wrist, freezing his arm midswipe. “Stop it, both of you. Gavin, quit dive-bombing Vane. And you!” I yank the branch from his hand.
Only then do I realize I’m practically pressed against his chest.
His bare chest.
It’s suddenly hard to breathe.
I drop his wrist and step back, letting the space between us calm my racing pulse. I toss the branch back into the pile and clear my throat. “Can you please refrain from injuring my pet?”
Gavin screeches. He doesn’t like when I call him that.
“And put your shirt back on before he scratches you,” I add, grateful for an excuse to get Vane clothed again.
He covers his head as Gavin dives. “That creepy bird is your pet?”
“Yes. So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill him.” I lock eyes with Gavin and hold my left arm straight out from my side. “Land.”
Gavin releases an earsplitting shriek and changes course to land on my arm, digging in his talons hard enough to prick through the thick fabric of my uniform. His silent protest.
Great. Now I have two difficult boys in my life.
I stroke Gavin’s cheeks, trying to calm him.