look at me. “Do you want to clean up a bit? You look like . . .” “I’ve been drowned in the ocean and trapped in a sandstorm?” Her eyes widen, and I’m glad I left out the part about the pile of
dead bodies I hid in. Just thinking about it makes me want to burn
everything I’m wearing.
“I don’t think you should shower until the wound heals a bit
more. But you can wash up with these.” She pulls a stack of clean
white towels from the cabinet and points to the sink. “And I’ll see if
I can find you a change of clothes. I’ll wash your . . . is it a uniform?” “It used to be. And I’m hoping it will be again.”
“Well . . . I can wash it for you tonight.”
She leaves me then and I strip down, surprised at how good it
feels to be out of my clothes. The wind keeps them mostly clean,
blowing away any filth that settles into the fibers. But a thorough
wash would be a nice, fresh start.
I lean into the sink, rinsing the sand and salt out of my hair and scrubbing my face clean. My skin turns pink as I wipe it with warm,
soaked towels, then fades to its normal pale color.
My scars are even paler.
Thin white lines scattered across my body, each one a souvenir
from training or battles I fought.
Protecting Vane.
I trace my fingers over them, remembering the pain from every
wound.
I’m not tanned or soft or nearly as beautiful as Solana—and I
may not be the one the Gales chose.
But I earned him.
And if I have to fight for him, I will.
CHAPTER 29
VANE
I
keep waiting for Solana to leave—or at least say something. But she doesn’t. She just stands there twisting the gold cuff with our initials on it. Over and over and over until I’m sure the skin underneath is raw.
It probably says something that she still hasn’t taken off the link, but I don’t have the energy to think about what that means.
I should walk away and leave her with all of her complicated, girlie emotions. But this is my room.
Plus . . . I feel bad.
I know I didn’t actually do anything wrong. The Gales made the promise to her—not me. And I’ve made it very clear that I’m not interested.
But still. It had to suck finding out that way.
“Hey,” I mumble when I can’t stand the silence anymore. “I . . . I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t feel like I could say anything until Audra was back.”
She closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. “So did you guys just . . . ? Or were you before . . . ?”
I’m not great at deciphering vague girl-talk. But I think she’s asking how long Audra and I have been bonded. “We, uh . . . made it official about a month ago.”
She nods like that doesn’t surprise her, then turns her back on me and walks to the window. “So there was never a chance,” she whispers.
I sigh. “The thing is—Audra and I have always had a connection. Even when we were kids. I don’t know how to explain it, but it goes back way before you and I were supposed to . . . you know.”
“And yet, she still left,” she says, turning back to face me. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Well, I missed her if that’s what you mean.”
“What about the pain?”
My hand automatically darts to my chest, but the burning ache is gone, replaced with the heat of Audra’s touch—like every spark that shot between us filled the empty space that used to be there.
“It was brutal, wasn’t it?” Solana asks quietly. “That’s why you were such a mess the night the Gales called me to help you sleep, isn’t it?”
Actually, it was because I thought Audra had ended things with me—but I have a feeling telling her that is only going to make this worse. “I was fine.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “One of my guardians was separated from her husband—and every day she stayed away, every mile she put between them, the more their bond tore her apart inside. There were days she could barely breathe. I used to watch it and wonder how she could bear it. And I worried for her husband, suffering every day and knowing she could spare them both the agony if she just went home.”
“I guess when you love someone, you don’t mind making sacrifices,” I say, making sure to emphasize the word “love.”
I have a feeling she’s talking about Gus’s family—and his mom had pretty darn good reasons for needing her space.
Just like Audra did.
“You really love her?” Solana whispers.
I can hear the plea in her voice, but I can’t give her what she wants. “I do.”
Her eyes well with tears and she turns away, spinning the gold cuff on her wrist again.
Why won’t she just take it off?
Probably the same reason I wouldn’t even consider the betrothal.
I wish there was something I could say to make it better. But all I have is the same lame thing I’ve already said. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did. I doubt you have any idea how much.” She reaches up and starts tracing lines on the window with her finger. “Do you know what this is?”
It looks kinda like a trippy clover, with the four leaves made out of four spirals.