Page 111 of Hearts Storm

“Drink,” Madame Solis says, taking a seat at the table. Her dark eyes linger on my face for a fraction of a second longer than it does the rest of my friends. “This herbal blend is specifically designed to open your hearts to the past and prepare your souls for the future.”

I glance down at my cup and then back up.

“What is it? Some sort of hallucinogenic?” Lizzy quips.

Sasha snorts, lifting her cup to sniff it cautiously. “Hmm. Smells like chamomile and honey.”

“Can you two behave for once?” Noia scolds. Lifting her teacup with both hands, she takes a sip, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, wow. This is delicious.”

Casting a nervous glance across the table at Madame Solis, I take a tiny, hesitant sip. “If this makes me confess my sins, I’ll never forgive you, Noia.”

Madame Solis sets her teacup down, and I can literally feel the air in the room as it shifts. Dark, knowing eyes lock onto Noia, who’s practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

“We shall begin with you,” the psychic purrs, reaching out to gently grasp Noia’s hands.

Noia lets out a little squeak, and Sasha snorts, causing my lips to twitch.

Madame Solis makes her way around the table, making me and my friends gasp in shock as she hits every nail on the head.

When she finally shifts her dark, penetrating gaze over to me, what I feel is nothing short of sheer terror. I curl my nails into the tops of my thighs, the sharp bite of pain helping to keep me grounded.

“And now for you, little flame,” Madame Solis says. Holding out her hands, she waits patiently for me to slide my palms into hers.

As soon as I do, she begins.

“Your past is a fire devil of inner darkness blanketed by a bright, bubbly façade,” she says, sweeping her thumbs in circles over my palms. I have to fight every urge not to yank my hands from her gentle grasp. “You use your warmth and outgoing nature as a shield, keeping things light so no one can see the scars buried deep beneath the surface.”

My eye twitches.

“An anchor weighs heavy on your heart,” Madame Solis continues, voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur. “A storm of emotions reflects a parallel soul lost to water many years ago.”

I literally feel all my blood drain from my face.

Does it suddenly feel like a furnace in here, or is it just me?

“You’ve built a life around using your pain to save others in an attempt to stamp out the guilt,” Solis continues firmly. “Running into flames, healing the broken. And when the noise in your head grows too loud, you take to the air, dancing in the sky in an attempt to stitch your shattered heart back together.”

A single tear escapes and rolls slowly down my cheek.

“But your present…” The psychic pauses, taking a deep breath. “…is a turbulent storm,” she warns, brow furrowed. “You have collided with a force just as stubborn and guarded as you are—a fearless leader. One consumed by a firewall of uncertainty.”

Holy shit… Is she talking about Logan? She has to be, because Brex is an open freaking book.

“This clash of wills is skewing your aura. Both of your paths are shrouded in a smokescreen of pride and fear. Your future...” Solis pauses, a heavy sigh parting her painted lips. “…is murky at best. Until you stop fighting the flames, you will remain lost in the smoke.”

Well, if that doesn’t sound ominous...

“But there is hope,” she smiles. “Hope that will burn the walls you’re both hiding behind to ash. I see a flashover. A moment when the tension snaps, and you will have to decide whether to run away from the firestorm or let it consume you. Do not fear the impending storm, my dear, because it will be⁠—”

Unable to take another second, I yank my hands away, glaring at the psychic in wide-eyed alarm.

Who the hell does this witch think she is?

Stunned silence, thick and suffocating, blankets the room, but Madame Solis doesn’t look offended in the slightest.

Gracefully picking up her delicate teacup, she sits back in her velvet chair with a soft, enigmatic smile. Like she didn’t just tear my carefully constructed world apart.

Noia’s shocked gaze darts around the table, taking in my pale, horrified face, Sasha’s wide, shell-shocked eyes, and Lizzy’s stunned, parted lips.