Page 183 of Storm Caller

“Poet.” My father reaches for me, but I step back, throwing his hand off with a snarl.

It’s involuntary. Instinctual. A reaction born of a lifetime of pain.

Does he think anything has changed between us?

I witness another break in his features.

The understanding that dawns on him. He cannot comfort me right now. Whatever truce we’ve found these past weeks cannot erase our history.

We are forever broken.

Warm arms circle around me instead, drawing me against a body I’ve come to know as well as my own.

The smell of the wind and the crisp freshness of green apples.

Rook hugs me so tightly that it begins to calm my racing pulse.

This is my safe place. The man to whom I’ve given my trust.

He whispers softly in my ear. He reminds me how much my brother loved me and that he’d want me to live my life. That he’d want me to move on.

“I want him back,” I sob. “I miss him so much.”

He cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses away my tears. “I know. I wish I could bring him back for you, but I promise that he’s so damn proud of you, Poet. It’s time to let him go.”

I nod, though I hate it.

I look at Henry, and the expression on his face tells me he doesn’t like the idea of leaving Raine here, either.

A loud bang from the hall has us all looking over.

Shouts. Shots fired. They’re coming this way. Did Sol’s Guards overpower the Fog?

“We need to get out of here,” Fisher says from where he and Calliope have been giving us all some space.

“Have you found a way to shut this down?” Rook asks his brother, who’s standing at a nearby control panel.

“I’m working on it!” Justin calls. “Edward’s guiding me through it.”

“Do you have enough footage?” my father asks me.

“I think so,” I say, wiping my cheeks.

Henry, my father, and I all watch at Raine for another second.

I step toward his tank, and I touch my fingers to my lips before pressing them to the glass.

“I love you,” I say. “Know that I live every day trying to be as brave and strong as you. I wish you’d told me what you were going through so we could have faced it together.”

Henry bows his head. “I’ll never forget you,” he whispers. “Thank you for the brief happiness we had.”

Then my father steps forward, his jaw hard.

“I’ll make them pay for this,” he says.

Henry and I stare at him, not sure what to say.

But we’re out of time because more shouts are coming this way.