Page 59 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

Jessiva rushes forward, her smooth body still bare, shielded only by the river of her red hair. She helps me up, and I hold her close, both for support and because I love the way she feels against my skin.

Her face tilts up to mine, her cheeks rosy in the light of the dyre-stones. I lean down, intending to bring my lips closeto hers, but she reaches up and touches my mouth with her fingertips, maintaining space between us.

“Tell me something,” she says softly. “What you said at the meeting, about the women being free to leave after mating season… did you mean it? When the mating frenzy and the storm are done, may I go home?”

My hands stroke along her arms. “The other women may leave. You may not.”

She jerks back. “Why not?”

“When you talk about ‘home,’ your face falls. You weren’t happy there. You’re happy with me.”

Jessiva pulls herself from my grasp, betrayal in her eyes.

“I can’t let you return, knowing that you’ll be miserable, knowing what you might have to do to support your family,” I tell her.

“The necklaces you gave me—they’re in my bag.” She points to where it lies against the wall of the cave. “I’ll sell them when I get back. The money will buy us a decent place to live—maybe a house in the country.”

“And you’ll be happy there, in a country house, with no one to dance for, no one to witness your talents? You think you’ll be safe, while the forces of Vohrain roam the land, imposing the will of their King?”

“I…” Her hands curl into fists, her arms rigid at her sides. “I don’t know. Personal happiness isn’t the goal of life, Varex.”

“Then what is?”

“Survival.”

“You deserve more than survival. You deserve everything. How can I take you back there, knowing you’ll be in danger in that city? You cannot be sure that your family is still where you left them. What if you’re robbed, wounded, raped, or even killed before you find them? Don’t ask me to do this, Jessiva. It’s cruel.”

“And you keeping me prisoner is a kindness?”

“Yes!” I exclaim. “On Ouroskelle you will be safe. Once this storm passes, I will protect you and provide everything you could ever want—I swear it. You can perform for the clan and for the other women, enjoying their praise and admiration. So yes, this is a kindness to you. And it is a kindness to myself, because I have lost every fucking thing I ever cared about, except for my brother, and he nearly lost himself in the damned war. If I lose you, on top of everything else, I can’t go on. I will die.”

“You can’t put that on me.” Her lips tremble. “It isn’t fair. You’re just like all the other men, wanting and needing and desiring and pouting, tempting and luring and tricking me, and you claim it’s all because you want my happiness… but you’relying!”

I whirl away from her and slam both palms against the wall of the cave. When she’s quiet, I can hear the storm, not just outside, not just around the mountain, but in my head. Its whispers are muddling my thoughts, making it difficult to perceive what is right and what is wrong.

You left me,says the storm suddenly.

My head jerks toward the cave entrance.

Shit. That was my mother’s voice. I haven’t heard it in years, and yet I’d know it anywhere.

You left me, Varex. You let me die. You could have saved me. Worthless, shiftless, cowardly son. We should have dropped your egg into the sea.

“Mother?” I whisper.

Jessiva’s fingers curl over my arm and I startle, surprised by how quickly she moved to my side. “Varex, what is it?”

“I can hear her, out there in the storm.”

I start to move, but Jessiva steps around me, blocking my path.

“When we studied the Mordvorren in school, my teacher told us it’s a magical storm,” she says. “It’s malevolent, Varex, and sentient. It can’t be trusted.”

The pain, the pain. My mother’s voice sobs on the wind and rings in my head.The agony of the acid, the dissolution of wing and bone. Your fault, your fault, your fucking fault.

Tears pool in my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I tried, I—”

Liar. You didn’t try. Not hard enough. You didn’t try everything, you just let it take me. You wanted me dead, didn’t you? False, disloyal, cowardly worm—

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