Page 23 of Tempest

I sigh. “Not this again.”

Clover flicks her eyes to mine, identical in color and temperament. “This could’ve saved Mila’s life had I known about it before.”

“Magic doesn’t exist, Clo, any more than the man at the auction who was supposedly executed.”

Clover’s stare doesn’t waver. “You cling to your beliefs, brother, just as I will cling to mine.” She shuffles the deck, then lays out three cards facedown on her bed. Sadly, I know enough to understand that each indicates past, present, and future. “Now, am I making the right decision to have Ardyn room with me?”

I massage the answering growl wanting to rip out of my throat and scowl at my sister instead.

Two things could’ve happened after the accident—Clover could have exiled all mage-like reminders from her life, finding them too hard to stomach after failing to save Mila (and technically, she lost two friends that night. Ardyn was also swept away by her father and bodyguard, and as far as I knew, the two never spoke again), or, Clover would immerse herself so deeply in the supernatural, like readings, ghost hunts, and seancès, that she’d separate herself from reality and become convinced she could protect herself and everyone else she cares about with the guidance of the psyche. Unfortunately, she’s chosen the latter.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as she mutters over her cards. “You were bullied at your high school for being a witch. Why are you asking to start this all over again?”

Clover’s lips pull in, likely to lob an insult or a demand for me to GTFO, but we’re interrupted by a light tap on the doorframe.

I lift my head, refusing to turn to the door. “Don’t bother unpacking your shit. You’re not moving in with my sister.”

“Tempest!” Clover scrambles off the bed. “You have no right to say that to her.”

I look at Clover and shrug. “I sure as fuck do. She’s the one who changed the course of history by doing dumb shit at the auction house and forcing the three of you to leave early in a car not driven by me, not your card spirits. If it weren’t for her—” Now, I spin on my heel, readying to add the weight of my unsettling, piercing stare to the hate in my words, but once I do…

It’s like being punched in the gut.

Meadow-green eyes stare back at me, with the lightest touch of the sun shining through gold-flecked shards. Her gilded brunette hair cascades in soft waves down her shoulders, parted in the middle and framing her heart-shaped face, as snow white and flawless as I remember. She’s grown curves in the last two years, and breasts, her body molded under a sculptor’s hands so exquisitely, the t-shirt and jeans she wears do an injustice to beauty.

Ardyn’s thick, auburn-tinged lashes plummet down, allowing me to regain my point until she opens them, and I’m once again enraptured.

My jaw clenches.

“Mila would still be alive, and you wouldn’t be so scarred,” I finish saying to Clover, but I’m unable to rip my stare from Ardyn’s.

Ardyn moves inside, pulling a simple roller-case behind her. “Nice to see you too, Tempest.”

Her voice is huskier than I remember, heavier with experience outside the four walls of her bedroom.

As she passes me, I get a whiff of gardenias and soap, slamming me back into the memory of our last car ride, minutes before she ruined both our lives.

It’s enough to wake me the fuck up. “What did I just say, princess?”

If my voice turns her veins to ice, she’s a very good actress because all she does is cant her head toward me, nailing me with that guileless green again. “You asked me very nicely to leave, and I’m responding very nicely that I’m not going anywhere unless Clover wants me to.”

Clover pivots to her bed, then grabs a tarot card and waves it in front of my face. “See? The Judgment card, Tempest. It means self-reflection. Evaluating ourselves and our actions. This is how the future answered my question, and it very aptly includes Ardyn.”

“I don’t give a fuck what your playing card says, Clo. I want you out.” I stab a finger in the air toward the door. “If you don’t get your own ass out of here, Ardyn, I’ll pick you up and toss you out myself.”

Ardyn steps up to me. She has the gall to step up to me.

She looks me in the eye, parts her full mouth, and whispers with sweetened breath, “I dare you to touch me.”

Her deadened gaze has Clover backing up a step while my brain whirrs with this new information.

My first instinct is to cup her breasts and squeeze, lick, and bite them until she moans for me to touch her again, down low, and taste her innocence. My fingers twitch at the idea, and my nostrils flare like I can already smell her sex.

The air is thick with it.

She inches closer, tipping her chin up to maintain her glare, her chest almost bumping into mine. The carnal urge to grab her ass cheeks, spread them, and pound my ownership into her is so overwhelming that my body shudders with the effort to keep myself in check.

“You’ll find I’m a lot less easy to tame,” she continues in a soft voice, “than the last time we met.”

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