Page 41 of Storm Caller

Summit jabs Rook in the stomach and then socks him in the jaw. Rook stumbles, falling to his knees as the crowd roars.

“How badly will he hurt him?” I ask, clinging to Navy.

I hate this. I hate seeing Rook wounded.

He sways for a few seconds, and then he pitches forward, landing face down to the roar of the crowd. Summit saunters over and stands over his son’s prostrate form.

“I mean . . .” Navy is saying when the arena doors suddenly bang open, and everyone turns toward the commotion.

Guards.

The Shield’s Circle Guards, to be exact, in their sleek white armor, stunners gripped in their hands.

Immediately, I’m on my feet.

Four Guards enter the arena and stop, facing each other in pairs. Rook is peering up through the blood running into his eyes as he presses a hand to his ribs. He rubs the back of his hand over his bloody mouth before he glances at me.

They found us.

Then someone else enters the arena, passes the Guards, and comes to a stop as everyone falls into a hush.

It’s the one and only General Nyxia Sol.

14

The entire arena goes still. The air practically vibrates with silence. Looking around, it’s clear that some people have no idea who just walked in, while others are all too familiar with the general and what she represents.

“Oh fuck,” Justin says, clearly falling into the latter group. Rook said this place was a secret from The Shield. Did I lead her straight here and ruin everything they’ve been working toward for decades?

“Language,” Navy whispers, and her brother tosses her a worried look.

Rook remains lying on the floor, struggling to sit up, blood running down his temple. He sways, almost tipping over with a hand planted to the earth.

“Someone help him,” Summit says in a low voice, pointing to his son. A pair of medics scurries over, helps Rook sit up, and then begins tending to his injuries.

High Commander Athira holds out a hand, and a moment later, someone arrives to place his shirt in his outstretched fingers. He tugs it over his head and shoves back his sweaty hair before rolling his shoulders. His reaction makes no sense to me. Shouldn’t he be sounding an alarm or something? I can tell I’m not the only one thinking this as people exchange confused, bewildered looks.

“General,” he says, his deep voice ringing out over the arena. Whispers circulate through the crowd in a muffled hush. Even without knowing who she is, there’s no question she radiates power and confidence. “What are you doing here?”

“Where are they?” she asks, storming into the center of the arena. Her gaze lands on Rook before scanning the floor and then the bleachers. “I see your son made it back, so where is she?”

I try to shrink away, resisting the urge to hide behind Justin’s broad frame.

“Who is she looking for?” Navy asks the moment before it clicks. “Oh,” she says on a breath as General Sol’s gaze finds me a second later.

Summit approaches the general. “Nyxia, perhaps we should take this to a more private location?”

“Of course,” she replies. “But these two are to be watched.” She points to her Circle Guard. “I do not want them escaping again.”

“Very well,” Summit answers, though it seems to cause him great pain.

Two Circle Guards make their way over to me. I swallow thickly, sweat beading on my forehead and my legs turning to jelly.

“Come with us,” the one on the left says. Obviously, I have no choice. Awkwardly, I climb over the barrier separating the audience from the arena floor. After a quick exchange of looks with Navy, I turn to follow General Sol’s Guard.

The medics now have an unconscious Rook laid out on a stretcher.

“General Sol,” Summit says. “Let’s head this way. Your Guard may accompany my son to the infirmary while we talk.”