A light thump makes me swivel and a defensive wave of electricity crackle over my skin. The disc siphons it after a second.
“Scaring me is probably not a good idea,” I warn.
A gold eye peeks around a tree at me. She giggles and hides again.
I run to her position, circle the tree, and find her missing. I’m starting to wonder if I’m hallucinating.
A branch rustles.
I scan for the sound, but I don’t have tunable hearing or vision. I am fast, strong, and electric. But somehow, she has me by the balls.
There has to be a way for me to track her. So I try something else. “I’m Aurelius. My friends call me Aura.”
“Jovie.”
Her voice is soft, gentle, and somewhere in the canopy overhead. I wander through the forest, scanning the treetops. “Do you know what I am?”
“I do.”
“Does my species scare you?”
After a moment, she replies, “No.”
Hope bolsters my Storm’s needs into something denser, more solidified. I continue trailing her voice and the susurrus of trees until I am almost to her. “It should.”
The forest falls silent and still. I scour the shadows and the canopy for her until I find myself at the edge of the flower meadow on the backside of the race grounds. “Jovie?”
I check the forest one more time and fear I’ve lost her.
At a thump, I swivel and find her rising to her feet among the flowers, the sun shining on her glossy hair, and a gray net hugging her flesh. Scars line the webbing.
Someone has damaged a stunningly beautiful creature.
“I’ve been electrocuted before,” she says with confidence.
My Storm surges, pressing against my skin, begging me to grab her, lay her back in the field, and take her here, now, in front of the cameradrone that passes overhead. It wants the universe to know she is mine.
But my heart is beating so hard and fast that I’m barely holding myself together. My bones feel like they’re filled with stardust, and I can’t get my voice to work.
I suddenly feel as if all of the threads of my life, everything I’ve done, has been funneled into this one moment. She is the pivotal point, the beacon, my entire life’s purpose. And I just want to savor it—her—this—just a few seconds longer.
She is the one from my dream.
I walk to her, studying her confident posture, and the loose ends of her long braid that drift in the breeze. She doesn’t pull away when I lift a hand. Instead, her eyes close as I run my fingers over her smooth cheek.
The thin cables in her flesh aren’t as palpable as I expected. I want to kiss her, take her, and make her mine in this beautiful place. But I need confirmation that she is destined for me and I for her.
“May I see your hand?”
She lifts a palm with only mild hesitation. I hold mine close to hers, then rotate it so our palms are almost touching. Electricity leaves myskin in soft arcs, weaving into hers. My Storm recognizes her energy and meshes with it without any backlash or thrown bolts.
I’ve heard of such a bond and read about it in illegal books in the forbidden library. But I’ve never witnessed it.
A light feeling fills my chest.
She doesn’t pull away, not even when her fingers start—to my surprise—sending the power back.
But she doesn’t have a Storm. This is impossible!
