Page 181 of Storm of Secrets and Sorrow

“I need to know where we stand, Tessa,” he said, setting his computer aside and getting to his feet.

She glanced over her shoulder briefly before returning her attention out the window.

“I need to know so I can prepare for tomorrow and the next day, the next week,” he went on.

“We will be as we’ve always been, Theon,” she answered.

“I don’t want to be like we’ve always been,” he countered, coming to stand beside her.

“It does not matter what we want.”

“You truly believe that?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Visions are just that, Tessa. They can change. They are merely glimpses of what could be,” Theon said.

“What if they aren’t?” she murmured, rubbing at her wrists.

Theon reached over, gently brushing her hands aside. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments, almost as if she was blinking. The bond in his chest calmed at the touch. It had been straining all day, and he hadn’t touched her once since he’d woken next to her that morning. But now he slipped one of the bands from her wrist, then the other, sliding them into his pocket. Tessa visibly relaxed, tension leaving her shouldersas she lifted a hand, letting light pool there. She’d learned some control in Faven.

“We can go talk to Cienna,” Theon finally answered. “She also has Seer gifts.”

“She does?” Tessa asked, studying her light as bolts of violet energy flickered through it.

“Yes, and honestly, it’d be a good idea. She’ll be the first to tell you the smallest thing can alter fate, changing an entire vision,” he replied. “I will see if Axel can make contact with her.”

“When did you know?”

“When did I know what?” Theon asked, watching her play with her power.

“That I was having visions.”

“I… The Underground. When you tried to go back in the tunnels and then we were attacked. I recognized the power then and asked Cienna about it when I went back to see her,” he answered.

And he waited.

He waited for her to demand why he hadn’t told her. He waited for her to snap at him for keeping yet another secret from her. He waited for her fury.

He wanted it.

He wantedsomething.

But she only nodded.

Slowly, he reached out, and when she didn’t react, he took the lock of hair that had come free of her braid, twirling it between his fingers. “Where do we stand, little storm?”

“Where we always have. On the precipice of destruction or salvation,” she murmured.

“What does that mean?”

“We have an agreement. I can’t back out of it, just like you can’t back out of the agreement with your father.”

He froze for a moment before tucking the lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you know why I made that bargain?”

“It is not my place to know.”

He felt the blow whether or not she meant it to be one.

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