Page 40 of Tempest Rising

Tess

The storm was alive.

It screamed above us with relentless fury, the winds clawing at our bodies as if trying to tear us apart. Lightning carved jagged scars across the sky, illuminating the chaos in brief, blinding flashes. Thunder crashed so violently it seemed to rattle the very bones of the earth, the sound wrapping around us like an oppressive shroud. This wasn’t just weather. This was intent—targeted, deliberate, and suffocating.

“This isn’t natural!” Kane’s voice cut through the storm, sharp and commanding. His fingers twitched at his sides, as though itching to wrest control from the forces assaulting us. Rain plastered his white hair to his face, making his angular features appear even more severe. “This is magic. Someone’s controlling it.”

He was right. There was no mistaking the malevolent intelligence behind the storm. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to keep my hands from trembling. The air itself felt wrong, thick with a charged, oppressive energy that burrowed into my chest, making it harder to breathe. I forced myself to take another step through the sucking mud, though every instinct screamed at me to stop.

“We’re not getting anywhere in this,” I shouted over the roaring wind, my voice strained but resolute. “We’ll have to wait it out. There’s no point risking ourselves if we can’t even see where we’re going.”

Kane hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the very idea of standing still grated against his nature. “We don’t have time to waste,” he said, his tone clipped, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of understanding. “But you’re not wrong. This storm... it’s too dangerous.”

I exhaled shakily, relief mingling with the ever-present tension coiling in my chest. “We’ll make up for it when it passes,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “But we’re not going to help anyone if we’re dead.”

Kane gave a single, sharp nod, though his shoulders remained taut, his gaze scanning the horizon as if searching for the unseen enemy behind this assault. The storm pressed against us with relentless malice, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t just being delayed—we were being hunted.

The Guild wouldn’t make this easy,I thought grimly, my stomach twisting with unease.But this feels like more than a test.

“Great,” Raze snarled, his feral amber eyes gleaming in the flashes of lightning. He crouched low, his movements fluid despite the storm’s onslaught. “Because nothing says fun like hypothermia. I’m thrilled.”

A hand brushed my shoulder. Mason. His massive frame loomed at my side, a solid barrier against the whipping wind and rain. “Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low. The scent of stone and cedar clung to him, rich and earthy. It was reassuring.

I nodded, my breath fogging in the freezing air as I adjusted my grip on the straps of my pack. My boots skidded on the slick ground, but Mason’s steady presence kept me from falling. The storm howled louder, as if angry that we hadn’t been broken yet.

“Over there,” Kane called, pointing toward a dark cluster of pines in the distance. His voice was clipped, all business, but his sharp gaze lingered on me for a fraction of a second. Was that concern? No time to dwell on it. “The trees should provide some cover.”

Following his lead, we stumbled into the grove, huddling beneath the wide, needled branches. The rain still lashed at us, but at least the pines broke the worst of the wind. My pulse slowed slightly, though the oppressive weight of wrongness in the air didn’t dissipate.

“This won’t hold for long,” Kane said, crouching to press a hand to the wet earth. His pale blue-violet eyes flickered as he scanned the area, his elemental magic humming faintly in the air. “We need higher ground and something defensible.”

“There’s a clearing nearby,” Mason offered, his deep voice carrying effortlessly even in the storm. He pointed eastward, his movements deliberate. “Steeper, more exposed, but stable.”

“Lead the way,” Kane said with a curt nod, already on his feet. He trusted Mason’s instincts without question. We followed Mason up the muddy slope, the climb grueling and slow.

My boots sank deep into the mud with every step, cold water seeping into my socks and numbing my toes. My legs burned, my breath came in ragged gasps, and my glasses fogged up in the freezing rain. My body screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t dare. I couldn’t be the weak link.

Kane’s sharp voice cut through the storm. “You’re slowing us down.” He stopped abruptly ahead of me, his expression hard as his pale blue-violet eyes flicked over me. With an exaggerated sigh, he moved closer, his hand darting out to grasp my forearm just as my foot slid on the slick mud. His grip was firm, but the way he set his jaw made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about offering help.

“Try to keep up,” he said brusquely, his voice tinged with irritation. Still, he didn’t let go, his steady hold preventing me from losing my footing again. Despite his gruffness, the warmth of his hand seeped through the layers of cold and wet.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

He exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line before he muttered, “You're part of the team.”

The rain battered against us as we crested the hill, revealing the clearing Mason had described. The space was small, rocky, and surrounded by dense trees. The slope on one side offered some shelter from the relentless wind, but it was still far from ideal. It would have to do.

“Start fortifying,” Kane ordered, his voice cutting through the roar of the storm as he released my hand. “Mason, get started on the structure. Raze, help him. Tess, gather some sticks for a fire. I’ll oversee the rest.” His gaze flicked to me briefly, his tone softening but still brisk. “Stay close.”

Without waiting for a response, the group moved with practiced efficiency. Mason’s massive frame seemed unaffected by the downpour as he began gathering and driving thick branches into the ground to form a framework. Raze darted between him and the treeline, collecting stones and additional branches that Mason used to anchor and reinforce the base. Kane, standing atthe center of the clearing, raised his hands. Streams of elemental energy swirled around him, weaving vines and branches together into a tightly-knit lattice that formed the roof and walls of the shelter.

I crouched down, gathering sticks as instructed. I couldn't help but steal glances at them through the sheets of rain. Watching them work was mesmerizing—Mason’s raw strength, Raze’s agility, and Kane’s precise, almost elegant control over the elements. Despite the chaos of the storm, they moved like parts of a well-oiled machine, each action purposeful and efficient.

Within minutes, a sturdy shelter took shape, its slanted design and reinforced sides offering protection from the elements. Kane stepped back, inspecting the structure with a critical eye before giving a satisfied nod. “It’ll hold,” he said simply.

I gathered my small pile of sticks, clutching them tightly as I followed Mason's urging. His dark eyes softened as he looked at me. “Get inside. You’re soaked.”

I hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of my thoughts for not contributing more. But Mason’s firm yet gentle tone left no room for argument. Hugging the damp sticks to my chest, I ducked into the shelter. The warmth of their combined efforts—and the promise of a potential fire—offered a brief reprieve from the storm raging outside.

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