40. Zeke

The storm beat me back to Cillian. The whole camp was on edge, knowing the thunder and rain meant more than any other storm. They’ve all been briefed. The air is thick, and conversations only half-completed.

Standing on guard in a soaking tent isn’t much fun but I didn’t even care.

The autumn chill sees us wearing our long green shirts and black pants. The cover above leaks. The vicious wind flaps it, flinging water to the ground. The lightning flashes like whip cracks, tearing open the sky above. I’m hoping that won’t matter after a few more days.

A strange kind of high consumes me. I know Freya is alive. I play images of bursting through those Rising Star double doors and finding her. I want to sweep her into my arms and see her eyes blaze with ferocious color. I imagine placing my hand on her rounded stomach and a strange fluttering consumes my belly.

I need to tell her that even though I briefly knew the sensations of a matebond my heart never left her. I was always hers if she