Page 27 of Storm Caller

Next to the commander is a gorgeous woman who barely comes to her husband’s shoulder. A milky complexion and golden-blond hair. Bright-blue eyes and angled features. A pretty bow of a mouth. She looks young enough to be Rook’s older sister, except for the obvious experience in her eyes. She’s even prettier than I imagined.

“Dad,” Rook breathes. “Mom.”

They rush toward us, throwing their arms around their son.

“You’re okay,” his mom says, cupping his face in her hands, pulling him down to meet her eyes. “We heard about the chaos. We were so worried.”

“I’m okay,” he replies softly. “Nearly got sliced in half, but I’m fine now.”

She pulls back, gripping his forearms and peering up. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I missed you both so much,” Rook says with so much warmth that my throat knots.

High Commander Athira hugs Rook tightly, slapping him on the back. They embrace for a moment before pulling apart. Then, Rook’s mom rushes over to embrace Fisher, who bends down to return it. She also happily greets Calliope while Fisher and the high commander exchange hellos.

It takes a minute before the Athiras’ attention turns on me.

“Who’s this?” his mother asks, her brows pulling together.

“This is Poet Graves,” Rook says. Then he gestures to me. “Poet, this is my mother, Faroe. And this is my father, Summit. Poet came with me from New Manhattan.”

A pause. A moment to absorb this information.

“Why?” Faroe asks. “I don’t understand.”

“Graves?” Summit says. “As in . . . Scion Graves?”

A shiver races along my skin at the realization that he knows my father.

“Yes,” Rook says. “His daughter.”

Concern passes over Faroe’s face. “I see.” Though it’s evident from the tone in her voice that she doesn’t understand at all.

“I’ll explain everything,” Rook promises. “But you have nothing to fear from her.”

Summit’s brows furrow as he assesses me, clearly unconvinced.

“Well, you must all be exhausted,” Faroe says cheerfully, trying to ease this newfound source of tension. The tension being me, of course. “Fish, Cal, are you hungry?” she asks, taking Fisher by the elbow. “Anyone? Or would you prefer your beds?”

Everyone agrees we’d prefer some rest.

“This way,” Faroe says, linking her arm with Rook’s as she keeps up a stream of chatter about everything he’s missed while he’s been away. We pass through a few corridors and doors as numerous people stop to salute us, each offering friendly smiles and greetings.

We reach another sliding door and come to a stop.

“You know the way,” Faroe says to Fisher and Calliope. “Help yourself to a guest room. Can you show Poet where to go as well?”

“Mom, I’ll take her,” Rook says, detangling himself from her hold.

“Oh,” she says with a pout. “I thought we could catch up before you go to sleep.”

“I’ll come find you after, okay?”

She looks between me and the others with a slight frown. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you soon. Night, Fish. Night, Cal. Poet, it was nice to meet you.” She offers me a warm smile, and while it appears genuine, I can tell she isn’t convinced that my presence is anything to celebrate.

“Thank you,” I say, and then we head through the door and down a few more corridors until we reach a wing lined with bedrooms.

Calliope and Fisher enter one together.