Page 25 of Tempest

Ardyn

Clover approaches me cautiously,a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

We’re in the deserted common room at Camden House, the rest of the freshmen on our floor heading to orientation beginning in the center quad. I’d never intended to go, and I was surprised that Clover hung back, too.

“You shouldn’t have to stay back for me,” I say as I settle into one of the worn velvet armchairs by a window.

“Please.” Clover waves me off. “Why would the witch of Titan Falls leave the girl from the asylum all by herself?”

I manage a small smile. “We’ve always made a great pair.”

“We have.” Clover settles in the armchair adjacent to mine. “I’ve missed you, Ardy.”

“I know.” I take in a deep breath. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“So…” Clover wriggles in her seat, keeping her hands carefully placed around her mug. “Do you want to talk about what happened, or…?”

I blow over the rim, buying time. I always knew it would be hard to see Tempest again, and Clover for that matter. What I didn’t predict was how easy it would be for him to get under my skin. I’d spent months in a private clinic with psychologists possessing expensive, pristine degrees who would explain to me on a loop, what happened wasn’t your fault, and we need to balance the serotonin in your brain, or if you stick to our prescribed regimen, you’ll feel better.

I’d armored myself with pills, meditation, and group therapy. It gave me the capability to call Clover after almost two years of silence and admit to her what I’d been gearing up for since the first day of signing into the clinic. “I’m going to college, and we’ll see each other again.”

TFU was our top choice. The three of us. I felt like it was a disservice to Mila’s memory to completely abandon the plan, and I was happy to see that Clover thought the same.

What I didn’t explain to Clover over the phone, though, was that I was tired of the therapy, and I wanted to know if my world would truly end if I just stopped listening to those cushy medical degrees and forged ahead on my own path.

So here I am, in college against both my parents’ and my doctors’ wishes.

If they’d been here to witness what Tempest had unearthed so seamlessly, I’d be carted off again in no time.

Clover stares at me over her mug, waiting patiently for an answer.

I clear my throat. “It’s taken a long time for me to get to this point.”

“I understand. I was there when you … well, at the accident.”

Nodding and swallowing hard, I push the images of a facedown, broken Mila from my mind. “I wasn’t prepared for your brother’s hatred.”

“Mm.” Clover wrinkles her nose, settling back into her seat. “To be honest, I wasn’t prepared, either. I had no clue he felt that way about you. He’s always been a helicopter older brother, though. What he said is more about him than it is about you. I hope you know that.”

The cruel curve to Tempest’s lips as he spat poison flashes into my mind. I hurl it away as quickly as I did my last memory of Mila, but not for the same reasons. Tempest brings about a heat, an endless burn in my belly that flames into my chest and scorches my heart. After all this time, even with his most recent words, he still unleashes an inferno in my soul.

It burns. It decimates. It should turn me to ash, yet here I am, discussing him over tea with his sister, a girl he would light me on fire for to protect.

My lips uptick at the thought. One of the many reasons I shouldn’t be attracted to Tempest—he shares way too many traits with my father. Overprotectiveness, casual aggression, and a quick-tempered flare whenever he feels he’s been wronged.

“You look good,” Clover says, redirecting my thoughts.

I smile. “For an asylum girl?”

She laughs softly. “Hey, don’t I look good for a witch?”

“You do,” I agree. “What have your readings said about me lately?”

We both know it’s true. While I was gone, I envisioned many moments of Clover hunched over her tarot cards, making sure I was okay. It’s why I love her. It’s why I’m back. Not just for her brother, I assure myself. And also for the truth.

“Nothing but good omens,” she lies. I let her. I also allow her to change the subject. “I’m hoping I’ll get some time to truly explore the grounds. So far, Tempest refuses to allow me entry into Anderton Cottage.”

“Why?” Though I know the answer.

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