Page 2 of And So The Storm Screams

Incandescence blinded me as I ripped back to the present. My mate held me, kneeling, his face ashen and jaw clenched.

“Sylaira,” Vaeron rasped, a relief in his tone that he didn’t earn.

Because he was the one who had forced me to See again.

I jerked out of his hold, chest heaving. My limbs trembled, weak and spent, and yet I managed to stay upright through the force of my fury alone. “Do not touch me!”

Around us, roars rose to a feverish pitch.

Memory slammed into me at the sound of the nobles’ jeers.

The trial by light.

The Issaraeth’s accidental victory over Herr Elyriane.

How Koron Stadiel had ordered his soldiers to seize my mate, shattering any pretense of divine fairness.

And how the Issaraeth, his best friend, and I had ended up in the center of the throne room, preparing to fight our way out. Maelsar stood, hands held high, with white magic pouring from his palms. The whirlwind around us held the royal sentinels at bay—for now.

“We have maybe thirty seconds before they overpower us,” he snapped, sweat rolling down his temples. “Make a decision, Vaeron!”

Rage stormed inside me, a tempest that battered against the confines of my flesh, as I glared at my mate. My fucking mate. The male who had sworn to protect me and then put me on the same path that had killed my best friend.

I let that insidious rot slither down our bond as he held my gaze. The love that had shone in his eyes upon my return from the future hardened into a glacial pool.

Good.

A dagger glinted as I stepped to the side, caged with the Issaraeth, just like in so many of my early visions of him. I snatched it off the marble. I had no idea how to use it, and for the first time in my life, I relished the weight of bronze-edged steel in my palm.

Without taking his sharp focus off me, the Issaraeth rose to his feet. “We still fight our way out of here. Iaoth can’t know that Sylaira Saw.”

I gritted my teeth and glared. How dare he use me for his own gain. He was no better than his sister.

A malignant question wrapped around my thoughts and squeezed.

Had I Seen exactly what he was hoping for?

That storm only grew as he adjusted his grip on the pommel of his sword. “Sylaira, please get between us. We can talk after we’re out of here.”

“You weaponized me,” I hissed, nails digging crescents into my palm. “You lied to me. Why would I ever do anything you say again?”

That cold, calculated male who had hunted me into the mountains emerged, shielding the real mate I’d briefly glimpsed beneath. His scowl brought back the moment our bond had snapped into place and I’d rejected him. The chain linking us thrashed as the Issaraeth retreated behind his own walls.

What a fool I have been.

That self-loathing was a blade between my ribs.

But I couldn’t deny that a real one would lodge itself in my lungs if I didn’t do as he requested. The monster I’d first known was good at surviving—as was I.

Fuck him. I snapped the connection between us shut and stepped into the eye of my storm where nothing could reach me.

“Vaeron!” Maelsar barked a warning, the shield of light dipping as a bronze sword cut through.

“Get between us. Now.” Desperation edged the Issaraeth’s voice as he snarled the order like I was one of his crew rather than his mate.

Behind me, white faltered. I leaped to the side mere moments before a blade slashed Maelsar’s magic. With my power unbound, my intuition screamed louder than it had in years.

Vaeron launched forward, sword raised to defend me. I twirled past him, finding a space between the two males. Heart thundering against my sternum, I raised the dagger like I had any hope of defending myself.