The Spell in the Storm

9

Jorden's POV

What. The. Fuck???

Those are the only words in my mind as I walk back to the line.

I stand next to Peyton, who punches me in the shoulder for standing on his. I barely feel it. My eyes and focus are on Jasira, as she walks out in front of us. On her face, remaining neutral, no hint of the flinches that I now know she hides.

Fuck, her back. As soon as I changed my appearance - which I didn't even know I could do until Sar whispered it to me - I felt the pain. The lightning, fiery, icy pain across my back. I could feel the scar tissue, stitches barely taken out, the blood caked on the wounds. It was terrible.

The prince's Bond is broken in more ways than one, Sar whispers to me. I shake my head. I've been hurt several times in my life. Nothing like Jasira, though. Nothing so brutal.

Sure, having my entire hand shattered by a hammer as part of my family's tradition hurt like hell, but I learned how to fix it. It still hurts sometimes, but those are phantom pains. Nothing like the fury wracking Jasira's body.

Jayr touches my shoulder, and I look over at him. He nods, and says quietly, "I know the pain. I saw it in her nightmare."

It hits me, then: I'm not the only one whose eyes are on Jasira. I look over at Peyton, and see him watching her. I notice his body language, the way he breathes, the dilation of his pupils. He doesn't like her, but he is attracted to her. So is Jayr, if only a little. And Asher.

Fucking hell.

What did we all get ourselves into?

Why did my training not prepare me for this? Why did my father teach me these skills if they came into use too late?

I try to still my racing mind as Jasira takes a stance in front of us. Feet shoulder-width apart, standing straight-backed, hair out of her face. She looks at each of us, her gaze lingering on me. Then she takes a breath, and closes her eyes.

Her arms, at rest by her sides, rise in front of her. They cross in an X across her chest. I feel the power swell within me, reacting to the power she's gathering.

When she uncrosses her arms in a sharp motion, her eyes open. They're blazing emeralds, glowing like fires lit from within. Power ripples outward from her, nearly making me and the others stumble.

Jasira falls to her knees. Her hands touch the floor, and everything seems to break, shatter, fracture. The ground rumbles, and I expect it to crack open. Wind whistles around us, knocking Jayr into me. I grab him and try to steady both of us against Peyton.

Jasira looks at each of us, her eyes burning. Around her rises five figures, made of smoke that dances in the harsh wind.

Five men. One with blue skin and swords across his back. Another with gray skin and scarred arms. The third with red skin and a robe. The fourth with gold skin and swirling tattoos across his neck and face. And the fifth with green skin and multicolored eyes, and a face wise beyond his years. He wears the most normal clothes out of all of them, and around his neck is a green emblem of a roaring dragon.

It's not hard to figure out that these are the aliens that are Bonded to each of us.

Sar's figure looks at me, his eyes the same blue as mine. The skin of his arms, the scars, looks burnt, cut, bitten. I wonder how he survived so long with ruined arms like that.

I did not have a very good childhood. My family was one of poisoners, assassins, torturers, spies. The training was brutal, much like your own. Every member of my family underwent a trial designed to break them. If you did not break, then you lived. If you did, then you died. My trial ruined my arms. But I still used them to slit my family's throats in the dark of night before they killed the prince's family.

Sar's voice whispers through my head, and I feel my stomach jolt. I feel like throwing up.

You killed your own family? I asked, my voice barely a whisper in my mind. Yes. To protect my friend, the only one who showed me kindness. Who taught me to not be a monster, Sar replies, his voice firm.

I'm not a monster, I reply. Sar is silent, but I feel his sympathy for me. His feeling that I don't yet understand what my family made me into.

But I understand. I do.

My family made me into a weapon.

The figures disappear, and I wonder if the others had mental conversations with their aliens like I did. Asher and Peyton look stoic, but Jayr looks a bit sick. I realize that I'm still holding him, so I let go. He looks at me, and his sick face clears.

Jasira rises to her feet, her eyes back to gray. Her body trembles, but she isn't crying this time. If anything, she looks pissed. Seems to be her default mode.

"Interesting," Dr. Sadiq says, breaking the silence. We all look at him. He's looking at his notebook, scribbling fast.

"What do you kids think about me designing suits for you? To get more data about your special capabilities and to monitor your bodies?" he asks, still not looking at us.

"What, like in Shatter Me?" Jasira scoffs, flipping her hair. Dr. Sadiq looks up at that with a smile. "Yes, like in Shatter Me. But these suits will monitor your bodies, not enhance your powers. There's still too much unknown for me to be able to do that."

Jasira blinks at the doctor, shocked that he got her reference. I try to hide my smile, because I understand it too. I stand by the pairing of Aaron and Juliette to this day.

Brian shakes his head, and says, "Powerful, but not necessarily skilled." Jasira narrows her eyes at him, and deadpans, "I wasn't going for skill."

She was going for fear, Peyton's voice says in my mind. Summoning the aliens we're Bonded to, to show us that she knows what they look like. That she knows why they chose us, Asher adds. She wants us to fear her, Jayr whispers.

She's scared herself, I say to them. Peyton glares at me, but I only look at Jasira, who gazes back at me.

Her gaze flicks away, and I remember her words that echoed in my mind when she didn't mean for them to. Damn. Wonder what those fingers could do elsewhere.

And my response. Fucking hell, my response. I actually sounded like I knew something. But I'm a virgin, pure and simple. It was a rule in my family: no sex until you're an adult. Not even masturbation.

I turned twenty three months ago, and haven't even touched a woman like that. Or a man. Or anyone.

Because I've been working. Touching people in ways that kill them.

I wonder what Jasira would say if she knew that little detail about my life.

"Alright. Head back to your rooms, do whatever, I don't care. Sadiq and I are going to discuss this new development," Brian says, looking at Jasira. She rolls her eyes at him and folds her arms. I teleport over near her, not near enough to touch though. I'm not sure if I can handle it right now, after her display of power.

The two men leave, letting us five do whatever. Jayr flops down onto the floor, throwing an arm over his eyes. Asher sits next to him, playing with a small blue flame. Peyton glares at all of us, his gaze lingering on Jasira, before stalking off to a corner.

"Whatever you want, I don't care to give," Jasira says to me. I look at her.

I know from her eyes that she's lying.

We both know what we want. I can tell from her body language, from the blush across her neck, from the way she's standing so straight, trying to keep her legs together.

"Are you sure about that, Jasira?" I ask, my voice soft. Her gaze flickers, and I see her pupils dilate. Fuck, is this was arousal is supposed to feel like? Like clouds of heat rising and shifting within my blood, my body? Like blood flowing to one spot, leaving my head feeling light?

What exactly can that mouth and fingers of yours do? her voice asks softly in my head. I look at her eyes as I take her hand, intertwining our fingers. Her skin is soft and warm. I wonder if the rest of her is as soft and warm. Want to find out? I taunt.

Yes, she replies, her eyes flashing. We smile at each other, and walk down the hall to the dormitories.