Page 41 of Shattered Stars

13

Rhi

I’m still shakingas I run away from the meadow and out into the countryside. Through the bond I can feel both Azlan and Stone hovering there concerned, anxious, wanting to know why the hell I’m so upset.

But what can I tell them? What can I say?

I’ve accused them of keeping secrets, of concealing the truth from me, but I’m as guilty as they are. I should have told them as soon as I understood what this feeling meant, as soon as I first suspected it.

I can imagine it now, the hurt in their eyes. The same hurt I’ve felt every time they’ve lied to me.

This is such a mess. So stupidly fucked up. Because that’s the other problem, isn’t it? What if they’re in agreement with Tristan? What if they tell me I can’t run from fate? What if they tell me I have no choice?

Because I don’t want Tristan. I don’t want Spencer. I don’t want them anywhere near me.

And as for …

No, they’re no better than those men who would terrorize us in the night, that haunted my dreams. They’ll hurt me, crush me, destroy me. And I didn’t fight to survive all this time just to end up an accessory to some man. His own personal punch bag. Loathed and despised.

I swipe the water from my eyes, my feet slowing. I’m out of breath, my lungs burning. I stop, resting my hands on my knees and attempting to catch my breath.

I peer out over the landscape, turning golden now, harvest time fast approaching, the trees in the distant orchard heavy with fruit.

It’s so beautiful. The sky never ending above me, the sun’s rays warm on my skin.

Maybe that’s all this was. Maybe we were simply caught in the moment, the practice of combining our magic overwhelming us, sweeping us away in a wave of false emotion. Tristan will probably forget all about it before the day is out. He’ll probably feign ignorance or a concussion or claim I seduced him.

I snort. I’m not even wearing the silky underwear Azlan gifted me. My powers of seduction are lousy.

I take another steadying breath and it seems to calm the two anxious men hovering through the bond as well as myself.

Then I pick up my feet and jog back in the direction of the campus. It’s gym class next and I cross every finger and toe that, despite my already-tired legs, we’re running sprints today and I won’t be treated to a lesson from Spencer – even if the last one was actually useful.

However, when I arrive at the gym, I find a crowd of students hovering outside the locker rooms whispering together. A couple of the bouncing bunnies are crying onto each other’s shoulders and Summer is actually pacing. I push my way through the crowd finding Winnie talking to Trent and Dane.

“What’s happened?” I ask, looking up into Trent and Dane’s devastated faces.

“It’s Spencer,” Winnie says, pulling me to one side.

The world spins on its axis, the sounds of the chattering around me growing deadly quiet, my vision swooping in and out of focus. I sway on my feet.

Spencer?

Winnie grabs my arm. “Rhi? Rhi? Are you okay?”

I force myself to concentrate on her face, on her mouth. “Spencer?” I say my voice sounding distant. “Is he …”

“He’s leaving. Rhi? Did you hear me? He’s leaving.”

The noise around me returns with a deadly roar.

“Leaving? To go where?”

“The front. Apparently he has enough credits to graduate early, so he’s leaving.”

Trent rests his arm around Winnie’s waist and leans his forehead on her shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re losing our best player.”

“We already won the Cross-lantic Cup. I guess he’s been waiting for that before he left.”