Page 27 of Stormbreaker

Stevie rips off her mask, and for some reason, that makes me feel better. Like I’m not here all alone. “You can still give up,” she screams into the wind. “But if you walk away now, it’s all over.”

She’s right, and I don’t believe her anyway. The look on her face suggests she’d push me off the edge as soon as she’d let me walk away.

“No shame. Fiama kids aren’t usually cut out for this shit.”

Her confident smirk stirs something inside me—a feeling I’d long buried after my own father took away all sense of safety and freedom in my life. I made a rash choice in picking Aria over my own House for one night, but as I stand up here with the world sprawling at my feet, I feel a kind of freedom I’ve never experienced before.

I forget about my surroundings. I forget my craving to absorb the energy cracking in the air and peer across the divide.

I see my father’s face and recall his scolding before I left home. I’ve tried to distance myself from his awful words, but they return with the force of a gut punch.

You will keep yourself for Knox.

Three years. And you will join the Society wives.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to please him. Trying to mold myself into the image of who he’s always wanted me to be. Choosing Aria’s test is the first truly rebellious thing I’ve ever done, and fuck does it feel good.

I shake my head to indicate I’m not changing my mind.

Stevie grins as the wind whips her hair, and a purple flash highlights the contours of her nose and cheeks. “Then have at it! Stand on the X. And make sure to swing straight.”

I accept her offering and shuffle near the spot she indicated. I look down, and the world tilts. The wind buffers against my back, and I spread my stance. I grip my tether with one hand and hang the coil of rope off my shoulder, still wondering what I’m supposed to do with it.

“Let’s go!” Stevie shouts. “You have one minute left!”

This is my moment.

The one where I decide.

I could choose to walk away from it all.

But without a House, I can’t join the Storm Guard, and that is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.

I hold my breath. Count to three.

Don’t look down. Don’t look back.

I back up a few steps.

Then I’m hurtling toward the edge.

And I jump.

9

The wind whistles in my ears, and my stomach climbs into my throat as I swing out from the edge, willing myself toward the far side. The rope digs into my stomach as I drop sharply, my hand burning against it as the wind is knocked out of me. I cling to my tether while kicking against nothing as I swing up.

Laughter. The masked figures on top of the Citadel are laughing, because they already know what I’ve just come to understand: the rope isn’t long enough. Panic claws up my throat as I reach the zenith of the path and then swing away.

What in the Skies is this? What do they want?

The rope sways back, topping out toward a cackling Stevie. “Looking good!” she shouts, clearly enjoying herself while I dangle uselessly, probably looking like a fool.

Then I remember the second rope and the hook.

Quickly, I unwind it, allowing the end to drop. They’ve given me plenty of length, and as my tether swings back toward the Citadel, I fling the hook, hoping it’ll catch the edge of the building.

It hits the stone, bouncing off and nearly tugging the rope from my grasp.