Under the Never Sky: The Complete Series Collection

by Rossi, Veronica

  I consider our position and see that he’s right. Our hill is small, but we have a few oak trees here that will give us some cover, and an unobstructed view on every side. No one will sneak up on us without earning an arrow between the eyes.

  My gaze strays west. Clara is out there, inside the cave on the edge of the coast. I wish I could see her. All I see are plumes of smoke interspersed with glowing spots, where the flames leap highest. The Aether rolls in waves across the sky, looking so alive, so vibrant, compared to the earth with its scorching skin.

  I don’t know whether it’s the sight of this war between earth and sky or the cooling of my sodden clothes that chills me, but I begin to shiver.

  “You want me to get a fire going?”

  That makes me laugh. “Would you? That’d be great.” I can’t think of anything I’d like less than a fire. The smoke has gotten in my hair. It’s all I can taste. All I can feel, in the tightness of my lungs. I feel like I’ve bathed in smoke.

  Hayden gazes across the distance. “The wind is dying down. The fires will burn out soon. We’ll be able to get back by morning at the latest.”

  That sounds overly optimistic, but I don’t say anything.

  Hayden finds a smooth rock to perch on. “Come on. There’s room for you.”

  “I’m fine,” I say reflexively.

  After pacing around for five minutes, I realize he’s chosen the only spot on this craggy hill that’s halfway comfortable, but I’ve already made up my mind.

  I plop down on the dirt a few paces away from him. A sharp rock pokes into my backside. I am cold, tired, and wet—and I smell like a chimney—but that rock is what pushes a string of curses out of me.

  “Everything all right?” Hayden asks.

  I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

  “Wonderful. How’s your throne?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” A pause. “You’d be more comfortable over here, Brooke. And warmer.”

  “Warmer? You want me to warm up with you? Do you really think I’m that gullible?”

  “I was trying to be practical, but suit yourself. I have to admit, though, I’m flattered you don’t trust yourself around me.”

  I snort and pick up a pebble to throw at him. My arm stops mid-throw.

  Because of the natural curve in the rock he’s chosen, Hayden is leaning back, half-reclined. It’s a casual, relaxed pose. Comfortable. And I suddenly don’t know why I’m here in the dirt, when I could be there.

  I hop to my feet and stalk over to him. “I will punch you if you touch me,” I say, sitting beside him.

  “You have nothing to worry about. I’m no poacher.”

  My heart stops for two full seconds. Hayden is watching my reaction, and I can tell he’s been waiting to say this for hours. Maybe since we left the cave.

  “What did you just say?”

  “I would never overstep. Especially since he’s my brother.”

  “Hyde told you?”

  Hayden shakes his head, his grin huge. “Hyde would never talk. I had a feeling, based on the smile that hasn’t left his face since you two came back this morning.”

  “You and your stupid feelings! It was just a kiss!” It streaks me that I’m even explaining myself. I smack him on the shoulder. “I can kiss whoever I want.”

  Hayden’s hands come up in defense as he laughs. “Of course you can, but that’s beside the point. All I meant to say is that I’m not interested”—he gestures at the space between us—“so we’ll be fine here.”

  In an elaborate display of nonchalance, he crosses his arms behind his head and leans back like he’s basking in the sun. The smug smile on his mouth makes my blood boil, but I’m determined to play this the right way.

  I lean back too, pretending I’m as comfortable as can be in my clammy, smoky clothes. As the minutes drag by, I can tell Hayden is disappointed I didn’t react to his comment.

  “I told you not to lie to me,” I say, after five full minutes have passed.

  He peers at me. “When did I lie?”

  “Just now. You said you’re not interested, but that’s not true. I’ve seen you watch me.”

  “Can’t I look at you?”

  “Of course you can. It’s just the way you look at me that’s telling.”

  “And how is that?”

  “You do this thing with your mouth.”

  “I do a thing?”

  “Yes. You pout.”

  Hayden throws his head back and laughs. “I pout at you?”

  “Yes. You do.”

  It’s actually not a pout, but that’s the only word I can come up with. Occasionally, like just a short while ago, his lips relax in a very appealing, sultry way that is close to a pout, but not a pout.

  “Well,” he says. “Don’t let my pout scare you. I promise you’re safe at my side. You and I would never work.”

  “You just said that so I’d ask why.”

  “You just said that because you’re avoiding asking why.”

  “Fine. Why, Hayden? Why are you so sure we’d never work?”

  “Aside from the reason I mentioned earlier?”

  “Yes. Aside from that.”

  “There’s no spark between us.”

  I glare at him. Does this boy ever say anything direct? Does he never say what he actually means?

  Turning my focus out over the hills, I consider the situation. He has done this on purpose, of course. To make me wonder if there might be a spark between us. The problem is that even though I see his trickery, I actually am wondering.

  My heart is thumping, and I’m suddenly aware of just how close he is.

  I have always found him attractive. Handsome in a grown, mature way. I’m not the only one who thinks so. I’ve heard women in the tribe talk about his smile on more than one occasion.

  My move on plan didn’t work with Hyde. How could it, when I saw hope in his eyes? Hope that I didn’t feel myself? I won’t use someone else just to make myself feel better. I like Hyde too much. But Hayden?

  I look at him, a little ripple of excitement moving through me as I find him watching me. In his eyes I don’t see hope. All I see is humor—and heat. And those soft-looking lips . . . I really would like to kiss him.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I say, before I can stop myself. “And you did offer to warm me up.”

  Hayden’s eyes narrow slightly. “Brooke . . . you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  His hand comes up, and he runs his fingers along my cheek. I jump a little, but he doesn’t. His fingers are steady on my skin. Steady as they trace my neck and then run across my collarbone. His eyes are sensual and dark as they follow the path of his touch. His mouth relaxes, and there it is. That sultry pout.

  I expected a kiss. That’s not what’s happening, and it’s thrilling.

  He looks into my eyes, his gaze so dark and hungry that it takes everything in me not to shiver. Then he bends toward me, and his lips close over mine, the pressure soft but sure. I kiss him back, and Hayden moves in, his tongue sweeping against mine, and a single thought explodes in my mind: Hayden knows what he’s doing.

  He sets an immediate tone, kissing me with confidence, and it feels achingly good, achingly familiar. I twist my hands into his hair and kiss him deeply, and hear him groan.

  “Brooke,” he whispers, “easy.” But everything he’s doing contradicts that. His hand grips my thigh, so tight that I feel the pressure of every finger.

  I move closer to him. He moves at the same time, and with all the moving that’s happening we end up lying on our sides, face-to-face. Together we are tumbling down a hillside of desire, and it feels safe. So safe not to care. This is only about lips and hands and skin. Swirling, smoky desires that are swallowing me up.

  Hayden’s hand rolls up my ribs and brushes over my breast, sending a wave of desire through me. But after a few moments he surprises me by drawing away. “Brooke, there’s definitely a spark here. We might actually catch
fire if we don’t—”

  “Shhh . . . This is more fun when you don’t talk.”

  His laugh is a short, clipped sound. “Fun?”

  “Yes. Fun.”

  I pull him to me again. He rolls on top of me, and then I roll on top of him, and it’s like a little battle in the midst of our kisses, our legs tangling up.

  My hand finds his shirt, slipping over the rolling muscles in his stomach. He makes a hissing sound and darts away. “All right,” he says. “That was good.”

  I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know why he pulled away. “It was better than good, Hayden.”

  He mutters a curse and sits forward over his knees. “Brooke, just . . . give me a minute here.”

  There’s only one reason he could have stopped. I can’t let that get in the way. “Hayden, what happened with Hyde was . . .” I don’t know how to finish my thought.

  What happened between Hyde and me was a beautiful, fragile thing. But it feels like talking about it with Hayden would be disrespectful.

  “It’s not that.” He rubs his hands over his head and lets out a breath. “Though it should be.”

  “Then what? Is it Perry? Because I’m not with him anymore.”

  Hayden lifts his head. “No, Brooke. It’s you.”

  This throws me. My cheeks warm. “What about me?” I ask, preparing to defend myself.

  “You’re running, Brooke. It’s like we’re back in those woods. You’re sprinting through this, and I don’t think . . .” He sighs. “I just have this feeling you don’t really want to do this.”

  “Are you really going to tell me what I want?”

  “I’m only telling you what I think. But I would like to know: What do you want?”

  What do I want? I have to think about it for a moment.

  I want to feel wanted and cherished and safe.

  I want to find someone who won’t trade me for another.

  I want to find love that is visceral and life-sustaining.

  All those answers seem a little inappropriate. So I say, “I want you to kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

  Hayden gives me a look I’ve never seen before. Like he’s in pain and about to laugh at the same time. “If I do, you’ll hate me tomorrow.”

  “You have it backward. I’ll hate you tomorrow if you don’t.”

  “But I’ll hate myself, and that’s who I have to live with for the rest of my life.”

  I don’t know why that makes me laugh, but it does.

  Hayden smiles. It’s disarming, his full lips pulling into a wide grin. “I don’t want to start this the wrong way, Brooke.”

  I’m not sure what the right way would be. He’s older, and surely he’s been with other women. Are there paths to love, to relationships, that are better than others? I don’t know. I only know the one I’ve taken.

  “Start what? You said you weren’t interested.”

  Hayden laughs. “I’m interested, Brooke. The question is, are you?”

  “I’m interested in not hurting anymore.” And there it goes. My stupid, runaway mouth. “Never mind,” I say, rubbing my arms. The cool night air is seeping back into me, chilling me again.

  Hayden falls quiet for what feels like a week. “That’s a good interest,” he says. “The most important one.” A look of concern emerges on his face, and panic spears through me. I’ve exposed too much of myself, my pain.

  “Would you stop looking at me like that?”

  “Am I pouting again?”

  “No. You’re looking at me like I’m weak.” The last thing I want is for Hayden or any of the Six to see me that way.

  “You, weak?” He grins, shaking his head. “Never. Now come here before you freeze.” He lifts his arm, inviting me closer.

  “Are you joking?”

  The words are barely out of my mouth before he drops his arm around me and pulls me close. Then he stretches his legs out, and shifts his back a little, searching for a comfortable position. Everything between us has changed. He feels totally different than he felt five minutes ago. Brotherly.

  “So,” he says conversationally, “I’m a good kisser. Was I better than Hyde?”

  Maybe not brotherly, then.

  “Oh, now that’s a surprise. You made it into a competition.” How did I not see that coming?

  “You’re avoiding the question again.”

  “You were different.”

  “Which is a careful way of saying better.”

  “Actually, different is a way of saying dissimilar. Unalike. There’s no value judgment. It’s a neutral word.”

  “Was Hyde that bad, or is it just that I’m on a completely higher level?”

  I jab my elbow into his ribs. He laughs and squeezes my shoulder. “I’m not going to forget what just happened, Brooke. Probably ever. When you’re ready, I’ll be here. And if you’re never ready, that’s fine too. I’ll just suffer in silence until I’m old and gray with age.”

  There’s no downplaying the glimmer of desire in his eyes.

  I don’t feel the urge to draw out his thoughts like I did with Hyde. What I feel is the pull to kiss him again.

  So different, I think. One brother seduced me with poetry and gentleness. The other with heat and desire.

  I settle in beside him. What did I see in Perry? I search my memories, trying to decide if he was more one way or the other. More alluring in mind, like Hyde, or in body, like Hayden. After a few moments I realize Perry was both. Gentle and thoughtful at times. Irresistibly sexy at others. But this realization doesn’t hurt like I expect. I don’t feel coals in my stomach, or the bruising in my heart.

  And I don’t want to dwell on what Perry was to me, either.

  With Hayden’s body next to mine, I feel warmer. My muscles are tired, and I allow myself to slouch against him. To let go of my weight and just be here.

  Hayden was right. This sort of heat between us is better for me right now.

  Hayden’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

  I look at him and say the first thing that comes to mind. “You have perfect lips.”

  I expect him to laugh or make some kind of comeback. But he just kisses my forehead and tucks me back into the crook of his arm. We sit and watch the burning hills, just doing that. Nothing more.

  And I am content.

  9

  It’s deep into the night when I hear a shout. It pierces the night quiet, instantly sending my pulse to a gallop.

  Hayden has nodded off beside me, but he wakes with a small jolt. I grip his forearm to keep him from making any sudden movement that might give away our position.

  “What was that?” he whispers. His eyes pan across the rolling land below us, and he blinks a few times to shake off sleep.

  “A man’s voice. Close.” I don’t hear it anymore. Now I only hear the creak of branches as they sway with a breeze.

  We come to our feet slowly, forcing steadiness out of our tired, stiff limbs. There could be Auds nearby, so we are careful to move in silence as we find our bows.

  The sky has calmed considerably since the show of funnels and the smoke hours ago. The Aether flows are smoother, almost veil thin. They are as calm as I’ve seen them in days. We have gone from a tempest to a gentle, low tide. Safer for us, but without a thick concentration of Aether above us, we’ve lost much of our illumination. The night has grown dim. A murky rolling blue, like we’ve swum to the bottom of the sea.

  My range of vision has decreased to only two hundred yards. Wearing horse blinders could not feel worse.

  “We should move off this hill,” I say. “We won’t know what’s going on unless we get closer.” My idea is borderline idiotic. We’re in a secure position, and leaving it for unknown danger would be insane. But I have never been one to wait around for things to happen. I’m confident that Hayden will steer us right, though.

  “Good idea,” he says. “Let’s go.”

  No voice of reason, then. My fingers tighten
around my bow.

  As we descend the hill, my heart thuds so powerfully in my chest that I wonder if Hayden can hear it.

  We walk half a mile before we see them. A group of people emerges from the mottled darkness.

  I count forty.

  They stand in a wooded fold between two hills. I search for Wylan but only see strangers. I recognize the dry creek bed, though. The trees grow thick there, because the water still runs beneath the ground. Somewhere, miles to the west, is the spot where Hyde and I were posted last night. But tonight I am farther out, on the edge of Tide land.

  Then I hear him.

  “Listen up!” Wylan snaps. He jumps onto a boulder, appearing above the crowd. “We’ll head north and approach along that ridge. Expect to be challenged by a pair of sentries.” He points into the darkness. “Two archers, within the first mile. Good fighters. But there are more of us, and we can’t expect to take this land and the food we need, land and food that are rightfully ours and that we deserve, without having to show some courage, can we?”

  There are a few grunts of agreement.

  Hayden’s eyes lock with mine, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.

  Reef and Gren are guarding the area these people plan to move through. They’re in danger.

  “Once we get past them,” Wylan continues, “we won’t run into any trouble until we reach the cave.”

  The cave.

  Clara.

  I yank an arrow from my quiver, nock it, and fire.

  It’s a wild action. Aggressive and possibly suicidal. But if I don’t do something, Gren and Reef could die. My tribe could be harmed, and my sister.

  My arrow spears a man through the thigh.

  I keep going, loosing another. Hayden joins me, and in moments screams of terror lift from Wylan’s group. They are visibly shocked and confused. We are firing on them from the rear—the borderlands, where they came from—and surely the direction they believed they could retreat if needed.

  But soon their own bows appear, and arrows slice past me. I can’t fire anymore without risking my life, so I kneel behind a rock outcrop and pray that my instincts are right.

  Gren is an Aud. He’d have heard the commotion Wylan’s group just made.

  Tell me he heard.