The wind is calling.
And itknowsme.
“Now,” Valen says, voice barely above a breath, “reach for it.”
I inhale. And the wind answers.
A sudden gust explodes outward from me, roaring throughthe clearing, bending the trees at their trunks. The air howls, wild and untethered, sending dust and leaves spiraling into a storm.
“Don’t fight it!” Valen shouts over the wind. “Feel it! Move with it!”
My eyes snap open—and I’m no longer on the ground.
I’m floating!
Holy hell!
Air rushes past my ears, my clothes ripple, my hair whips wildly around my face. I hover several feet above the field, weightless, caught in the current.
My stomach lurches.
Then the air drops me.
Panic floods my chest. I flail, grasping at nothing. Gravity yanks me down—
“Breathe, Amara! Feel it! Let it carry you!”
I hear him, but it’s a blur—until something inside me sharpens.
A memory. A dream. That warmth in my chest. My parents. The voice. Thecall.
Not panic. Purpose.
And just before I hit the ground, itcatchesme. The air cushions me, slowing my descent, placing me back on the ground.
I land hard, knees buckling, breath knocked from my lungs. And then, as suddenly as the gale came, it drops away.
The sound of distant voices reaches my ears. Footsteps crunch against the dry grass. I glance up, and beyond the trees, I see them—soldiers. A few at first, then more. They must have heard the wind, felt the shift in the air. They watch from the edges of the clearing, their faces either full of wonder or wariness.
Lyra steps forward, arms crossed, one brow raised, Garrickbeside her, grinning like it’s a holiday.
“That’s my girl,” Lyra calls, smirking.
“Alright, that was officially unfair,” Garrick adds, folding his arms. “You getwingsnow? What’s next—breathing fire?”
And then there’s Thane. He stands slightly apart from the others, his gaze locked on me. His expression is unreadable—but something flickers behind his eyes. Sharp. Calculating.
The clearing looks almost untouched—except for the stripped branches, the scattered leaves. I still feel the faint electricity humming under my skin.
Valen lets out a low whistle. “Well,” he mutters, “at least you didn’t break your neck.”
My head jerks up. “I wasfloating.”
His lips twitch. “You were.”
I press my hands into the dirt and push myself upright. My limbs are shaking, but I’m standing.
“You fought it at first,” Valen says, stepping closer. “Then you let go. That’s when it caught you.”
