Page 62 of Storm Caller

I’m still screaming as I notice several Patrol guards swarming Rook. They grab him by the arms and pull him to his feet. He fights against them, bucking and jerking.

“Rook!” I shout. “Roooooook!”

“Shut up,” someone snarls.

A hand cracks across my cheek before everything goes black.

20

When I come to, I’m in what looks like a prison cell. I’m lying on a bed, fully clothed, staring up at a concrete ceiling. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where I am. The Tempestade.

The Extinguishers took me. The thing I spent my entire life fearing came to pass, and I did it intentionally. I walked out in bright daylight and waved a white flag of surrender. I remind myself this is all for a reason. I have a purpose. But it’s hard to remember that when I have no idea what comes next.

I might never see Rook or my mom or any of my friends ever again.

I listen to my surroundings. All I hear is the whir of a fan somewhere in the distance.

My head throbs, and I reach up to touch a spot above my eyebrow, wincing at a tender bump where they knocked me out. I’m getting really sick of this.

I remember screaming. Shouting at Rook. Watching the Patrol descend on him. What happened? Is he okay?

He told me he loved me.

And I didn’t say it back.

I do love him. I’ve loved him since the moment he followed me out of the pledging ball and hugged me in a dark corner because he was angry on my behalf. I’ve loved him since he found me at the bottom of the stairs, carried me to the med wing, and stitched up my teddy bear.

I loved him when I watched him with his brother and sister.

When I saw the respect he commanded in the Veil.

When I understood he’d do anything for the people he loves.

When he sat under the stars playing music that spoke to the deepest layers of his soul.

I’ve loved him then and a thousand moments in between.

A loud bang in the distance has me flinching. It takes a moment to realize it’s just the ventilation system knocking. I’m surprised they’re even bothering.

I should get up. Examine my cage. Maybe devise an escape. Except I planned to be here. There would be no use in running now.

I lack the will to move, anyway.

My eyes drift shut as I picture Rook on the edge of the embankment, screaming for me.

The terror on his face.

I want you to know that I’ve fallen in love with you, Poet Graves.

The words resonate around me, fusing to my skin, imprinting themselves in the winding corridors of my mind.

A single tear slides down my temple. “I love you, too,” I whisper into the empty silence.

Will I ever get the chance to tell him?

The echo of footsteps in the distance has me inhaling a razored breath.

Someone is coming.