I was supposed to be erased.
He stares into space and a slow grin spreads across his lips. “I forgot about that. That was the first time I started to think you were real. I wanted to jump off the carousel and find you, but my mom had her arms wrapped around me. And by the time the ride was over, you were gone. I figured I must’ve imagined seeing you.”
A few seconds of silence pass as I digest that.
“So, how does it work?” he asks. “How did you make me dream about you every night?”
“You dream about me?”
The idea stirs such a mix of hot and cold I don’t know which sensation to settle on.
“That’s how I recognized you.” He keeps his voice low as a fisherman passes us, whistling a tune that feels far too cheerful for the moment. “I’ve dreamed about you almost every night for as long as I can remember.”
I never realized. I’d assumed he only recognized me from the few times I’d revealed myself. But if he’s dreaming about me . . .
There’s only one way that could be possible. His mind would have to separate my voice from the whisper of the wind. We can do that with the people we care about. Like how I’d dream about my father after he sent me his lullabies.
But . . . how could Vane care about me? Before his memories were erased, he barely knew me. And in order to find my voice on the wind and attach it to my memory—a memory he should have forgotten?
He’d have to love me.
“Are you sure it’s me?” I ask, grasping for some other explanation.
“Trust me, it’s you.”
There are dozens of different ways to love somebody. But how could Vane Weston feel any of them for me—especially back then?
“Your hair’s always loose,” he adds quietly.
“Loose?”
“Yeah. It’s not in the braid. It’s free . . . and beautiful.”
His voice is soft. Tender. Laced with the kind of emotions he needs to cast away.
I shouldn’t meet his gaze—I know what I’ll see. But it’s like he draws me to him, and when our eyes lock I find the same intense stare I’ve seen too many times in my brief days with him.
I feel the air heat up as he takes a step closer, and I can’t believe we’re here again. I have to say something—do something to stop this. But my head is swirling too fast. I can’t think.
“Why didn’t we fly here, Audra?” he asks. “You must have flown here when you followed me as a kid. So why not tonight—when we were in such a hurry?”
“I couldn’t.” The words slip out before I can think them through.
“Couldn’t do what?”
I look away, trying to recover. Trying not to imagine myself wrapped in his arms, surrounded by nothing but wind and darkness and stars. Our warmth blending into one as his hands slide down my waist . . .
“I was too tired.” I finally answer.
“Is it because of the water?” he asks.
I don’t want him to doubt my strength. But the lie is easier than the truth. So I nod.
He takes another step closer and cups my cheek, so soft. So gentle. “I’m sorry I gave it to you. I didn’t realize—”
“I know,” I whisper. I lean against his hand, closing my eyes and giving myself one second to let his warmth erase the chill that’s settled inside me from the strange winds and the stranger memories. Then I turn my face away.
“We should get started. We’re losing time.”
He takes a step away. “Where do you want to do this?”
“Down at the end. The winds should be strongest there.”
I expect him to turn and head that way, but he holds out his hand. When I don’t reach for it, he sighs. “We’re in this together, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then walk with me.”
I should protest. But after the emotional roller coaster I’ve just ridden, I’m not sure I can keep going on my own.
I take his hand.
Waves of heat rush up my arm as our fingers lace together, and I feel Vane shiver at the same time I do. Neither of us says a word as we walk toward the end of the pier. It feels like we’re both holding our breath. Waiting.
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.