After a few more meetings, the plans were cemented, and under the rumbling distraction of a thunderstorm, Aurora began her first mission for the rebellion. She was covered head to toe, her identity hidden but for her eyes—a necessity for the night’s work. Had she not worn thick leather, anyone would be able to see the strange light that was no doubt pulsing erratically in her chest alongside the anxious beat of her heart. And that was one secret she intended to keep for as long as possible.

Aurora’s sharp blue eyes scanned the top of the palace walls. The posts above should be deserted; during a storm, the soldiers typically retreated to the towers stationed at each of the cardinal directions as secondary levels of defense for the Stormling fighting from high atop the palace’s dome. But all the same, her gaze darted up to scan the walls just in case. She could hear Jinx’s light footsteps falling close behind her own, and her heart careened between each unsteady breath. The other rebels were watching from afar, waiting for her signal. As were her fellow hunters, who had followed her blindly into this chaos even though she did not deserve their loyalty.

Tonight, the rebellion would infiltrate the palace that had once been her home. And Aurora would be the one to open the door. Or gate, as it were.

Aurora slowed to a stop and met Jinx’s eyes; the witch nodded her readiness. Nothing but confidence shone in her friend’s face. Having Jinx by her side calmed some of Aurora’s nerves, but she would have felt better with Kiran there, and worse all at the same time. Things with him were … complicated. They still appeared to be part of the same crew, for now. They had made commitments to the same rebellion. They even slept under the roof of the same inn. But that was all that remained the same.

Their eyes rarely met, and when they did, his were unreadable. He avoided being alone with her at all costs, disappearing quickly after meetings with the rebellion or with the other hunters. The girls were bunking together as originally suggested, and that night she had spent in Kiran’s room felt more like a dream than a memory. It was as if the weeks they spent together in the wilds had never happened. He had written her out of his life as though she were nothing more than a footnote in a longer story.