Our wind form cannot be merged with anything that’s tied to the earth, and I haven’t deprived myself of food for long enough to truly be able to separate. Parts of me will crumble and scatter to dust. The rest will float away.
The singing continues and I close my eyes, bracing for the coming breakdown. But just before the pain boils over, he falls silent and the breaking urge recedes, leaving me cold and trembling on the sand. “You’re an Easterly!” he practically growls. “Your essence never would’ve responded to that call if you weren’t.”
He grabs my shoulders, squeezing so tight it feels like he’ll crush me. “Who taught you the fourth language? Was it the boy? Has he had the Westerly breakthrough?”
Vane’s face fills my mind, and I feel my panic calm as I stare into his imaginary eyes.
“So it was the boy.” He laughs darkly, shaking his head. “Apparently all Raiden needed was a pretty face and the right curves. Someone will have to tell him.”
He releases his hold and I collapse, earning yet another mouthful of sand. I spit out the grains and pull myself back up. “Why don’t you tell him yourself? You could send him a message right now.” He doesn’t accept my dare.
“You can’t get anywhere near Raiden, can you?” I ask quietly. “I can if I hand deliver you.”
“Could you? Or would he take me and still kill you, to punish you for escaping?”
His grabs my shoulders again.“Whatever you think you know—” “I do know. I know everything. Everything except why you never came back. The Gales would’ve understood—”
“Would they?” He drops me again and stalks away, staring at the sky. “You really think the Gales would’ve accepted the traitor who gave away their most protected secret?”
“You were tortured—”
He shakes his head. “You know the oath we swore. ‘Sacrifice before compromise’.”
I find myself repeating the words.
I remember swearing them four years ago, crouched in the shade of the lone oak outside my mother’s shack, when I became the youngest guardian in Gale history. They’d been reluctant to appoint me before, but after the betrayal of—
“You’re Aston, aren’t you?” I whisper.
Aston and Normand—those were their names. But Aston was younger and stronger, and famous for his skill in a fight. “That name belongs to another life,” he whispers. “A life that ended the moment Raiden ripped Normand apart piece by piece until I told him what he wanted to know. I thought he would finish us both, but he kept me alive. Told me he ‘saw potential’ in me.” My mind flashes back to the assault on the beach—the way Aston dominated every move I made—and I know what Raiden saw. “He kept me for two years after that. Taunting me with freedom and then punishing me to make sure I knew my place.” He shudders. “I obeyed just enough to earn a window to escape. Then I ran. Holed up here in this forgotten place, trying to finish my days. But then I heard you.” He reels around. “I heard you shout at the west wind and watched it obey. I thought you were a long lost Westerly, a valuable tool to trade with the Gales. But you’re more of a traitor than I am.” “How do you figure that?”
I can’t see him smile, but I can hear it in his voice when he asks, “So you’re not bonded to the betrothed king?”
The question hits harder than anything he’s thrown at me. And my reaction gives me away.
“How did you know?” I whisper.
He shakes his head, turning away and moving toward the cave’s exit. “You still haven’t figured out Raiden’s secret, have you? How he dominates the winds?”
I rack my brain, trying to guess what clue I could have missed— but nothing he’s said has made sense.
Not until he unfastens his cloak, letting the silky fabric slide to the ground.
Pants cover his legs, but the rest of his body is exposed. What’s left of him, anyway.
He steps into the moonlight, giving me the full effect, and I can’t stop myself from gasping.
Pricks of light leak through his skin—a million tiny holes that make him more empty space than person.
I want to gag, cry, run away from the horror.
But his eyes hold mine—sad and vulnerable as he whispers, “There’s much more power in pain.”
CHAPTER 11
VANE
T
his place is messing with my head.
I’m so freaking tired, but every time I close my eyes, my mind floods with all the doubts I’ve been trying to deny. All the questions I’ve been trying not to ask.
I never realized how much the pain of my bond calmed me. Gave me something to hold on to—something to prove that my connection to Audra is real. Now that it’s gone it’s like all my pathetic insecurities are feeding off each other, leaving me needy and desperate and tempted to do something really stupid, like wake Arella up and ask her if she thinks her daughter loves me.
I know I’m being crazy. Audra told me she loved me before we kissed—and I made sure the whole thing was her choice.