I stare at them, still so shocked that my normally protective parents would give me such autonomy. But then I remember their explanation. They know they can’t always be there to make decisions for me. I’m going to have to sprout my wings—no pun intended—and fly out on my own.
“I—” I stare into the distance, where Tate’s Jeep turns off the road and fades from sight. All of a sudden, my chest feels so tight it hurts—I imagine this is the sensation someone gets when they’re underwater for too long and out of breath. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a quick walk. Clear my head.”
“Sure. That sounds fine.” Mom smiles reassuringly and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “No hurry.”
I set off toward the dock and then veer off into the thick press of trees. It’s comfortingly familiar. It makes me think of home. The pride. The mists licking my skin. I pause, reveling in the wind and earth all around me … the smell of water so close.
I could leave now. Return to all that I know. All that I’ve ever known. Safety. Security. I halt abruptly. My hand reaches out for a tree as though I need to grasp it to steady myself.
What about my life is safe? I’m draki.
My entire life, my upbringing, my training, school … it’s all been to protect and defend my life and the lives of my kind. The threat of hunters, being captured, discovered … It’s always there, hovering like a dark cloud. Living with apprehension is nothing new. So why am I letting fear rule me now?
I look down at the small box in my hand, remembering it. I flip open the lid and gasp. I fall back against the tree, staring down at Tate’s shark-tooth necklace. The one that belonged to his mother. I pull it from the box with shaking fingers, emotions flooding me.
Blinking burning eyes, I push off from the tree, rushing blindly through the woods, a nameless force guiding me. I feel the water like my own heartbeat, hear it, inhale the crispness, the whiff of algae, sensing it before it ever comes into sight.
I burst from the trees into the clearing, jerking to a stop at the sight of the Jeep—the boy sitting on the shore. He’s here. Like I felt, like I knew he would be.
He twists around to see me.
“Az.” He moves to his feet in one easy motion. Everything about him is rigid, wound tight and alert as he gazes at me, his jaw locked. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I am.” Was …
“Then what are you doing here?”
My lips move, words forming, hanging. I don’t know. There’s no deliberation. No time to formulate. I can only stare. Only feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest. “I wanted to take a walk.”
“So you came here?”
My hands move, motion to the water. “This place has come to mean something to me.”
He looks to the water and back at me, his eyes burning and intense. “It means something to me, too.”
And I don’t think we’re talking about the pond anymore.
He takes one step for me, then stops, pulls up hard.
I shake my head, pressure building inside my chest like a dam ready to burst. I hold up the necklace, the shark tooth dangling in the air. “This means something to you, too.”
“Yes.”
“Then why give it to me?”
“I wanted you to have it. I don’t know … it felt right. Like giving it to you somehow makes sense, which I know doesn’t make any sense. Only it’s true.” He smiles crookedly and that dam breaks inside me. With a choked sound, I’m moving. My legs eat up the distance separating us.
He meets me halfway, his arms going around me. My hands fall to his chest, flatten there. His heart beats fast into my palm, almost like it’s rising up for me, reacting to my touch.
My eyes search his. “Tate …”
He brushes the hair back off my cheek. “Why are you running away?”
I inhale sharply though my nose and the breath is almost pained. He knows. He knows that I’m scared. That I’m running away from him. It’s not my overprotective parents. It’s me.
How does he know? How does he see me?
But isn’t that what you love about him? That he sees you? For the first time someone sees you....
“There are things about me …” Things you can never know. Things I can never share with you.
He slides his hands up my neck to my face. I lift my hands to hold on to his wrists. His thumbs press softly into my cheeks, locking me in place, holding me captive. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve known there’s something different, something special about you from that first day. And I know there’s stuff you’re not telling me, but I can deal with it. Maybe someday you’ll tell me. Until then I can wait.”
His thumbs move ever so slightly, grazing my sensitive skin in small circles, igniting liquid heat all through me.
“I’m not running,” he says. His eyes lock with mine, the rich, melting brown there challenging me to do the same. “I just want to be with you. I want to know you—however much you’ll let me see.”
I blink stinging eyes. “I’m not—”
His hands tighten on me, bringing my face so close that his lips brush mine as he pleads, “Don’t go.”
My skin constricts with the familiar snapping tension, but I don’t care. I don’t let it frighten me. The words burst from my lips in a low sigh of surrender against his mouth. “I won’t.”
And then his lips are on mine. Cool. Firm. Consuming, devouring me like he’s been waiting for this. For me.
I lean into him, moan into the kiss, realizing that I’ve been waiting, too. I’ve been waiting for this. For him.
We lower to the hard ground, indifferent to the dirt and twigs. Nothing has ever felt more comfortable or right. He lifts his head, smiling down at me, his hand still a delicious rasp on my face. “You’ll stay the month.”
I nod, letting happiness flood over me. No regret. “We’ll make every moment count.”
He takes the shark-tooth necklace from me and hooks it around my neck, his expression intense. “There.” He dips his head to kiss my jaw. “This month will hold us over until the next time we’re together. Because I doubt one month of you will ever be enough.”
I start to open my mouth to protest, to explain that we shouldn’t hope for anything more than this summer—that we definitely shouldn’t expect more—but then I stop, close my mouth with a snap. Because I doubt one month of him will be enough for me either.
Why couldn’t we see each other again? I’m not a prisoner. I’ll be on tour next summer.
He lifts his head and looks back down at me as if he senses I’ve reached some decision. Suddenly, in his eyes, I only see possibilities. Hope blossoms in my chest.
I lift my face and kiss him again, put everything into that kiss, every hope, every promise—to him and myself.
Fear won’t guide me. I will only follow my heart.
His arms pull me in, hug me closer, and I know it’s his promise to me, too.
EPILOGUE
One year later …
I fold the last item into my luggage and zip up the top with hands that tremble in excitement. Mom hollers from downstairs and my movements launch into high speed.
“I’ll be down in a second!”
Rushing to my desk, I start to shut down my laptop, but pause and reread the email open on my screen, sent at 11:47 PM last night.
Az, I’m counting the hours. I picked out a blue surfboard for you. Didn’t think anything else would work for my girl. I miss you. You know where I am.
Love,
T
My heart stutters a quick, happy beat inside my chest. I’ve read every email from Tate multiple times over the last year, but this one I’ve read and savored the most. I hardly fell asleep last night. I kept getting up to read Tate’s words. Our last correspondence before I actually see him again. Before we pick up where we left off in the summer … that glorious summer I’ve relived in my head all year, the memories sustaining me as I slid back into the routine of pride life.
&
nbsp; I scan my room, take in the posters of the ocean. One-dimensional images. Suddenly they are a poor substitute for what’s coming.
Grabbing the handle of my luggage, I leave my room behind.
I’ll be there soon, my toes burrowing in the sand, my hair tangled in sea air, my skin tasting the ocean.
And Tate will be there, too.
Read on for more forbidden love in
1
Gazing out at the quiet lake, I know the risk is worth it.
The water is still and smooth. Polished glass. Not a ripple of wind disturbs the dark surface. Low-rising mist drifts off liquid mountains floating against a purple-bruised sky. An eager breath shudders past my lips. Soon the sun will break.
Azure arrives, winded. She doesn’t bother with the kickstand. Her bike clatters next to mine on the ground. “Didn’t you hear me calling? You know I can’t pedal as fast as you.”
“I didn’t want to miss this.”
Finally, the sun peeks over the mountains in a thin line of red-gold that edges the dark lake.
Azure sighs beside me, and I know she’s doing the same thing I am—imagining how the early morning light will taste on her skin.
“Jacinda,” she says, “we shouldn’t do this.” But her voice lacks conviction.
I dig my hands into my pockets and rock on the balls of my feet. “You want to be here as badly as I do. Look at that sun.”
Before Azure can mutter another complaint, I’m shucking off my clothes. Stashing them behind a bush, I stand at the water’s edge, trembling, but not from the cold bite of early morning. Excitement shivers through me.
Azure’s clothes hit the ground. “Cassian’s not going to like this,” she says.
I scowl. As if I care what he thinks. He’s not my boyfriend. Even if he did surprise attack me in Evasive Flight Maneuvers yesterday and try to hold my hand. “Don’t ruin this. I don’t want to think about him right now.”
This little rebellion is partly about getting away from him. Cassian. Always hovering. Always there. Watching me with his dark eyes. Waiting. Tamra can have him. I spend a lot of my time wishing he wanted her—that the pride would choose her instead of me. Anyone but me. A sigh shudders from my lips. I just hate that they’re not giving me a choice.
But it’s a long way off before anything has to be settled. I won’t think about it now.
“Let’s go.” I relax my thoughts and absorb everything humming around me. The branches with their gray-green leaves. The birds stirring against the dawn. Clammy mist hugs my calves. I flex my toes on the coarse rasp of ground, mentally counting the number of pebbles beneath the bottoms of my feet. And the familiar pull begins in my chest. My human exterior melts away, fades, replaced with my thicker draki skin.
My face tightens, cheeks sharpening, subtly shifting, stretching. My breath changes as my nose shifts, ridges pushing out from the bridge. My limbs loosen and lengthen. The drag of my bones feels good. I lift my face to the sky. The clouds become more than smudges of gray. I see them as though I’m already gliding through them. Feel cool condensation kiss my body.
It doesn’t take long. It’s perhaps one of my quickest manifests. With my thoughts unfettered and clear, with no one else around except Azure, it’s easier. No Cassian with his brooding looks. No Mom with fear in her eyes. None of the others, watching, judging, sizing me up.
Always sizing me up.
My wings grow, slightly longer than the length of my back. The gossamer width of them pushes free. They unfurl with a soft whisper on the air—a sigh. As if they, too, seek relief. Freedom.
A familiar vibration swells up through my chest. Almost like a purr. Turning, I look at Azure, and see she is ready, beautiful beside me. Iridescent blue. In the growing light, I note the hues of pink and purple buried in the deep blue of her draki skin. Such a small thing I never noticed before.
Only now I see it, in the break of dawn, when we are meant to soar. When the pride forbids it. At night you miss so much.
Looking down, I admire the red-gold luster of my sleek arms. Thoughts drift. I recall a chunk of amber in my family’s cache of precious stones and gems. My skin looks like that now. Baltic amber trapped in sunlight. It’s deceptive. My skin appears delicate, but it’s as tough as armor. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen myself this way. Too long since I’ve tasted sun on my skin.
Azure purrs softly beside me. We lock eyes—eyes with enlarged irises and dark vertical slits for pupils—and I know she’s over her complaints. She stares at me with irises of glowing blue, as happy as I am to be here. Even if we broke every rule in the pride to sneak off protected grounds. We’re here. We’re free.
On the balls of my feet, I spring into the air. My wings snap, wiry membranes stretching as they lift me up.
With a twirl, I soar.
Azure is there, laughing beside me, the sound low and guttural.
Wind rushes over us and sweet sunlight kisses our flesh. Once we’re high enough, she drops, descends through the air in a blurring tailspin, careening toward the lake.
My lip curls. “Show-off!” I call, the rumble of draki speech vibrating deep in my throat as she dives into the lake and remains underwater for several minutes.
As a water draki, whenever she enters water, gills appear on the side of her body, enabling her to survive submerged … well, forever, if she chooses. One of the many useful talents our dragon ancestors assumed in order to survive. Not all of us can do this, of course. I can’t.
I do other things.
Hovering over the lake, I wait for Azure to emerge. Finally, she breaks the surface in a glistening spray of water, her blue body radiant in the air, wings showering droplets.
“Nice,” I say.
“Let’s see you!”
I shake my head and set out again, diving through the tangle of mountains, ignoring Azure’s “c’mon, it’s so cool!”
My talent is not cool. I would give anything to change it. To be a water draki. Or a phaser. Or a visiocrypter. Or an onyx. Or … Really, the list goes on.
Instead, I am this.
I breathe fire. The only fire-breather in the pride in more than four hundred years. It’s made me more popular than I want to be. Ever since I manifested at age eleven, I’ve ceased to be Jacinda. Instead, I’m fire-breather. A fact that has the pride deciding my life as if it’s theirs to control. They’re worse than my mother.
Suddenly I hear something beyond the whistling wind and humming mists of the snow-capped mountains at every side. A faint, distant sound.
My ears perk. I stop, hovering in the dense air.
Azure cocks her head; her dragon eyes blink, staring hard. “What is it? A plane?”
The noise grows, coming fast, a steady beat now. “We should get low.”
Nodding, Azure dives. I follow, glancing behind us, seeing only the jagged cropping of mountains. But hearing more. Feeling more.
It keeps coming.
The sound chases us.
“Should we go back to the bikes?” Azure looks back at me, her blue-streaked black hair rippling like a flag in the wind.
I hesitate. I don’t want this to end. Who knows when we can sneak out again? The pride watches me so closely, Cassian is always—
“Jacinda!” Azure points one iridescent blue finger through the air.
I turn and look. My heart seizes.
A chopper rounds a low mountain, so small in the distance, but growing larger as it approaches, cutting through the mist.
“Go!” I shout. “Drop!”
I dive, clawing wind, my wings folded flat against my body, legs poised arrow straight, perfectly angled for speed.
But not fast enough.
The chopper blades beat the air in a pounding frenzy. Hunters. Wind tears at my eyes as I fly faster than I’ve ever flown before.
Azure falls behind. I scream for her, glancing back, reading the dark desperation in her liquid gaze. “Az, keep up!”
Water draki aren’t built for sp
eed. We both know that. Her voice twists into a sob and I hear just how well she knows it in the broken sound. “I’m trying! Don’t leave me! Jacinda! Don’t leave me!”
Behind us, the chopper still comes. Bitter fear coats my mouth as two more join it, killing any hope that it was a random helicopter out for aerial photos. It’s a squadron, and they are definitely hunting us.
Is this how it happened with Dad? Were his last moments like this? Tossing my head, I shove the thought away. I’m not going to die today—my body broken and sold off into bits and pieces.
I nod to the nearing treetops. “There!”
Draki never fly low to the ground, but we don’t have a choice.
Azure follows me, weaving in my wake. She pulls close to my side, narrowly missing the flashing trees in her wild fear. I stop and drift in place, chest heaving with savage breath. The choppers whir overhead, their pounding beat deafening, stirring the trees into a frothing green foam.
“We should demanifest,” Az says, panting.
As if we could. We’re too frightened. Draki can never hold human form in a state of fear. It’s a survival mechanism. At our core we’re draki; that’s where we derive our strength.
I peer up through the latticework of shaking branches shielding us, the scent of pine and forest ripe in my nostrils.
“I can get myself under control,” Az insists in our guttural tongue.
I shake my head. “Even if that’s true, it’s too risky. We have to wait them out. If they see two girls out here … after they just spotted two female draki, they might get suspicious.” A cold fist squeezes around my heart. I can’t let that happen. Not just for me, but for everyone. For draki everywhere. The secret of our ability to appear as humans is our greatest defense.
“If we’re not home in the next hour, we’re busted!”
I bite my lip to stop from telling her we have more to worry about than the pride discovering we snuck out. I don’t want to scare her even more than she already is.
“We have to hide for a little—”
Breathless: A Firelight Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) Page 7