Page 83 of Storm Caller

“I hate you,” I gasp, and he smirks.

“That isn’t what you said last night,” he says, his voice dropping. “Not before, during, or after I rocked your entire fucking world.”

“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

He laughs, throwing his head back before reaching out a hand and pulling me to my feet in one fluid motion, like I’m filled with nothing but feathers.

Then, he yanks me toward him so our mouths are only inches apart. “Today, we’re going to learn how to prevent me from ever doing that to you again. Okay?”

“Fine.”

He hesitates.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It feels weird trying to knock you down.”

“Weirder than before?”

“Kind of, yeah? Now that we’ve . . .” He trails off, a blush that is way too adorable coloring his cheeks. Especially when it contrasts with his confidence from a moment ago.

I poke him in the stomach. “Don’t you dare go soft on me, Athira.”

We share a look, unable to say the words between us. General Sol wants us to help her, but I’m not sure how that looks yet. Whatever is coming will no doubt be dangerous, and we’ll need every weapon at our disposal.

“Then let’s do this, Graves,” he says, whispering in my ear. “For every bruise you leave this room with, I’ll make up for it with a kiss later.”

“A kiss where?” I bat my eyelashes innocently.

He moves in closer, his hand landing on my hip, fingers digging in gently. “Everywhere.”

I let out a shaky breath before pushing myself away, determined to focus on my task.

For the next hour, I’m humbled over and over. Rook tosses me onto my back so many times that I lose count. I am now just one giant bruise. During it all, he offers me pointers and tips, and I’m slowly improving. It becomes my new life goal to return the favor someday.

By the time we’re done, I’m sweating from every pore, my entire body aching.

I feel amazing.

Bruises are forming all over my arms and legs, but after all the running and uncertainty of the past few months, it feels good to engage in something that offers me a sense of control.

Henry makes his way over and gives us an appraising look. “Well done, both of you,” he says. “You can hit the showers.”

Rook and I return to the locker rooms to clean up. When I emerge, he’s waiting for me, dressed in black pants and a sleeveless shirt, his hair damp and freshly washed, looking good enough to eat.

My phone dings in my pocket. It’s a message from a number I don’t recognize.

unknown: Meet at the tunnel exit. 7 pm tonight. Both of you.

I scan it a few times before it suddenly disappears.

The entire note is gone, like it never happened.

As I peer up, Rook is standing over me, a crease between his brows.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I think we’ve just been summoned by General Sol.”