“You did what? Bleeding skies. What if he saw you?” Gods, even now there could be soldiers out there looking for her. He turned back toward the bed, his mind already turning toward packing up, deciding they should move locations to be safe.

Aurora’s voice stopped him. “He did see me. Jinx and I followed him, and he ended up leading us to a secret hideout for members of a rebellion. They can help me find out what happened and fight to undo it.”

Kiran pressed his hands against his head, trying to soothe a brutal ache that had started down the center of his forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m supposed to meet him again in the morning,” she said. “I had hoped you would go with me.”

“Not that,” he snapped. “You left this place, left everyone in it. You were so desperate to leave that you followed strangers into one of the most dangerous situations imaginable. And now you want to fight and possibly die in some revolution for this place?” His voice was growing louder, his frustration harder to tame. “Even if you win, there’s a madman outside those gates somewhere probably planning to level this city into nothing but dust and ash like he did the last one. We could be back in the wildlands tomorrow, back to hunting storms and living however we want to live.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and Kiran hated how vulnerable she looked. “You want me to run away?”

“Yes!” he cried. “You did it once before, what’s the difference?”

“I never planned to stay away,” she yelled, her breath coming in heaving pants.

He stared at her, and for just a moment, he hated her. His life had been so simple before she came along. He fought storms, made money, and lived each day however he wanted, as if it might be his last, as if it should be his last. Then she had cracked him open, and made him feel and want things he had never let himself want. He began to think of what it might be like to plan past the present, to dream of a future. And now he knew that was all a lie. There was no future here. Not between them. She was a Stormling. He was nothing.

“Kiran,” she murmured, stepping toward him.

He held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

He did not know what he might do if she did. He would never hurt her, not on purpose. But he had never felt this many emotions at the same time. He did not know if he wanted to cry or yell or beg her to leave with him. And he hated feeling so out of control.