Page 188 of Stormbreaker

My breath stutters. I lean closer to the screen, as if distance is the problem, as if I could somehow make him feel me watching.

He looks at the screen. His thumb stills.

I know that look. I’ve seen it a hundred times—the faint narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth becomes unreadable when he’s thinking. When he’s deciding.

My chest tightens, sharp and sudden, like something inside me has been grabbed and twisted.

He doesn’t type.

He locks the screen and slips the phone back into his pocket.

Just like that.

My hand flutters up, pressing flat against my chest. I welcome it. Anything to anchor me here, in this moment, where I’m watching the man I trusted choose something else.

Rook turns back to his search, checking doors and locks. Focused. Intent.

Whatever he’s looking for matters more than I do.

The thought lands softly, almost gently. Maybe that’s what makes it so unbearable.

I swallow, but my throat feels sealed shut. My ribs ache, like they’re being pulled inward, like my body is trying to protect something that’s already broken.

I realize, distantly, that I don’t actually know anything about Rook Athira. Not really.

I know the version of him that arrived from the Wastes with a cocky smile and a confidence sharp enough to cut through my defenses. I know the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. The way he kisses like he means it.

But standing here, watching him ignore me, I understand how little of that was ever mine.

Rook Athira.

I don’t even know if that’s his name.

He came from nowhere. No past. No history.

And apparently, a future I’m not part of.

As he continues searching rooms, descending another floor, it’s obvious he’s on a mission. One he had planned all along.

Slowly, I watch his progress. I search the screens, wondering if I can see what’s inside the rooms, but they reveal nothing, only the hallways. I consider sending him another message, but I don’t know if I can stomach watching him ignore it again.

He knows where I am, so what is he doing? What is Rook planning?

Are Edward and I in danger?

“Poet!” Edward hisses from the other room. “Come see this.”

I stare at the screen for another moment before I stumble toward Edward. “Any luck?”

“I’m still working on accessing the research files, but I found this.”

My gaze pings to where he sits typing on a keyboard, his cheeks contoured by the white glow of the screen on one side and the swirling crimson clouds on the other.

He then points to the TV screens at my back.

The wall lights up with a low-res black-and-white video playing a scene, multiplied a dozen times. I tiptoe over and peer at the closest.

It takes only a moment to understand it’s a video feed from one of the Storm Towers that surround the city. My mouth parts when I spot Raine fighting hand-to-hand with a Solitude.