Page 3 of Stormbreaker

I swallow a gasp as the clouds tumble and roll, swelling in great puffs of lilac and indigo, flashing with hot spots. Soon they’ll explode in pulses of galvanic force known as Spark, jagged streaks of energy that spread in every direction, sometimes shattering our protective barriers and killing anyone they touch.

An Empire Storm is coming, and it’s coming fast.

As the wind picks up, I shiver.

I can feel the storms.

We have two less-common types: Emerald Storms that bring torrential downpours and Blood Storms, which rain down deadly fire.

But Empire Storms pose a constant threat, always on the verge of striking.

My temperature is already climbing, and I continue to scratch my hands and my arms. My exhales turn short as I carefully regulate my shallow breaths.

It feels like I’m coming undone. Like my skin is too tight and starting to split.

This is my curse. A burden. A test of my sanity.

And yet I crave it, too.

I know I shouldn’t. I know it makes me a monster.

But it’s an addiction waiting to destroy me.

My breaths come faster and sharper, my pulse pounding as the storm outside screams in my ears. Everyone else in the room continues chatting and drinking, unconcerned.

I’m almost positive I’m the only one here affected this way.

When the amethyst clouds start to roll, everyone runs for cover, seeking the relative safety of their homes. Our only true protection is General Nyxia Sol and her army of Storm Breakers, who do their best to shield the city.

But even their methods are fallible, and the storms are often unpredictable.

CRASH.

A window smashes, and everyone screams as we’re plunged into the luminescent glow of neon light. A small plasma arc ricochets from the floor, forming a dome, transparent like a soap bubble and filled with jagged sparks of pulsing energy.

It lasts for only a second before it winks out.

Wind gusts into the room, tossing napkins and tugging at hair and clothing. People jump up, drinks spilling as they search for cover, trying to escape a hailstorm of glass, sharp stones, and bits of debris.

I’m shoved to the side with Trinity’s arm still linked to mine. We slam into a wall, my elbow connecting with a sharp crack that radiates into my shoulder. As we’re pushed left and right, I instinctively search for Knox. How close was he standing to the window?

A moment later, I spy him at the far end of the room, brushing splinters off his shirt and shaking out his hair.

My stomach twitches with a conflicted dip because I don’t understand how I feel. I don’t want to marry him, but I also wouldn’t want him to die this way.

I think.

It takes me a moment to register the screams.

Someone else wasn’t so lucky.

Through a wall of shifting bodies, I spot someone lying on the floor, their skin charred to a black husk. Smoke curls off them in small puffs of white.

Someone won’t be starting at Amery Academy tomorrow.

My stomach turning, I huff out a shaky breath as the clouds flash with more swelling points of light.

If I don’t hurry, I might miss it.