Does he really trust Solana more than his own heritage?
“You didn’t let me finish explaining,” Solana reminds us. “I had a revelation when we were trapped in the oubliette—and it changed everything. I realized the power of pain feeds off my needs—and that’s an incredibly selfish process. So I thought, maybe that’s why it’s so destructive. It’s there to serve my every whim, of course that would be addictive. And I wondered what would happen if I focused on the needs of others instead. So I told myself that I didn’t care about me. I just wanted to get you guys out of there. I didn’t care if I had to be left behind, or sacrifice myself to save you, and I repeated it over and over until it felt true. When it was, the need came up with a command that blasted us out of there. And the power didn’t have as strong of an effect on me.”
“I guess that explains why you were able to stop us from falling even though Raiden said he wouldn’t be able to do it,” Vane mumbles. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t thought about anyone besides himself in . . . ever.”
I suppose it does make sense.
“But I still think it’s dangerous to keep using the power,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “I’ll stop as soon as I can. But we all know it’s going to take everything we have to beat Raiden.”
“No, it’s going to take everything I have,” Vane corrects. “I’m the last Westerly. I’m the one this is all about.”
“It may have started with the Westerlies,” Solana argues, “but then Raiden stole Brezengarde from my family. I’m just as involved as you are. And Raiden has the power of pain—and his backlash. You can’t expect to handle all of that by yourself.”
“I don’t,” he says. “I have it all planned out. I’m going to lure him somewhere far away from people, so I can make sure no one else gets hurt. And then I’m going to bring in the Gales. They’ve learned the power of pain, so they can keep the Stormers busy—”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “The Gales are using the power of pain?”
Now I truly do feel sick.
“Os started training them when we left,” Vane says. “I tried to stop him. But . . .”
There’s the “but” again. And this time it destroys the whole Gale Force.
“They made their choice,” Vane tells me. “So I might as well not let the power go to waste.”
“You don’t sound like a Westerly,” I tell him.
His smile looks painful. “Maybe not. But I’ve still got a little bit of Easterly left in me. I’ve held on to as much as I could.”
His hand moves to his heart as if he’s reaching for the strands of our bond.
I thought they’d all been severed, but I can almost feel them tangling around me, connecting us together.
“I can use the emergency call to bring the Gales to me,” he says. “And with their help, I can end this. And you guys can go somewhere safe. I’ll make sure I tell the Gales what Solana learned—”
“I’ll tell them myself,” Solana interrupts. “This is my fight too, Vane. You’re not going to change my mind.”
He opens his mouth and lets out a heavy sigh before he focuses on me.
“I’m going,” I tell him.
He moves closer, his eyes as desperate as his voice. “Please, Audra. I need to know you’re safe. If anything happens . . .”
“I’ll be fine. I know how to handle myself in a fight.”
“Not against Raiden. He has this backlash thing that rebounds any attacks. Plus Aston thinks what happened to Gus was because Raiden knew there was a chance you’d escape. That means he planned for this to happen—who knows what other horrifying things he’ll do? And if I lose you again . . .” His voice cracks, and he squeezes my guardian pendant. “Please, if I ever meant anything to you, please do this for me.”
I’m so lost in the impossible choices it takes me a second to catch his deeper worry.
“Of course you meant something to me,” I whisper. “Why would you even say that?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not saying this to try to pressure you.”
“And I’m not saying it because I feel pressured.”
Hope clears the sadness clouding his expression, but he blinks it away.
“I just need to know that Raiden will never touch you again,” he tells me.
“Then let me help you kill him,” I say, glad my words hold steady.
My Westerly instincts seem to be silenced by my hunger for justice and revenge. I wonder if Vane is feeling the same.
“But what if . . . ,” Vane starts, until I reach up and cover his lips with my finger.
I meant only to silence him, but the spark of heat nearly knocks me over.
It’s such a simple thing, touching him like this.
I don’t know why I’ve built it up in my head to be so complicated.
I stare into his eyes, and it feels like falling into a memory and glimpsing the future all at the same time.