Tempest Rising (The Dragonne Library #2)

Chapter 16

Tess

The storm was alive.

It screamed above us with relentless fury, the winds clawing at our bodies as if trying to tear us apart. Lightning carved jagged scars across the sky, illuminating the chaos in brief, blinding flashes. Thunder crashed so violently it seemed to rattle the very bones of the earth, the sound wrapping around us like an oppressive shroud. This wasn’t just weather. This was intent—targeted, deliberate, and suffocating.

“This isn’t natural!” Kane’s voice cut through the storm, sharp and commanding. His fingers twitched at his sides, as though itching to wrest control from the forces assaulting us. Rain plastered his white hair to his face, making his angular features appear even more severe. “This is magic. Someone’s controlling it.”

He was right. There was no mistaking the malevolent intelligence behind the storm. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to keep my hands from trembling. The air itself felt wrong, thick with a charged, oppressive energy that burrowed into my chest, making it harder to breathe. I forced myself to take another step through the sucking mud, though every instinct screamed at me to stop.

“We’re not getting anywhere in this,” I shouted over the roaring wind, my voice strained but resolute. “We’ll have to wait it out. There’s no point risking ourselves if we can’t even see where we’re going.”

Kane hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the very idea of standing still grated against his nature. “We don’t have time to waste,” he said, his tone clipped, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of understanding. “But you’re not wrong. This storm... it’s too dangerous.”

I exhaled shakily, relief mingling with the ever-present tension coiling in my chest. “We’ll make up for it when it passes,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “But we’re not going to help anyone if we’re dead.”

Kane gave a single, sharp nod, though his shoulders remained taut, his gaze scanning the horizon as if searching for the unseen enemy behind this assault. The storm pressed against us with relentless malice, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t just being delayed—we were being hunted.

The Guild wouldn’t make this easy, I thought grimly, my stomach twisting with unease. But this feels like more than a test.

“Great,” Raze snarled, his feral amber eyes gleaming in the flashes of lightning. He crouched low, his movements fluid despite the storm’s onslaught. “Because nothing says fun like hypothermia. I’m thrilled.”

A hand brushed my shoulder. Mason. His massive frame loomed at my side, a solid barrier against the whipping wind and rain. “Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low. The scent of stone and cedar clung to him, rich and earthy. It was reassuring.

I nodded, my breath fogging in the freezing air as I adjusted my grip on the straps of my pack. My boots skidded on the slick ground, but Mason’s steady presence kept me from falling. The storm howled louder, as if angry that we hadn’t been broken yet.

“Over there,” Kane called, pointing toward a dark cluster of pines in the distance. His voice was clipped, all business, but his sharp gaze lingered on me for a fraction of a second. Was that concern? No time to dwell on it. “The trees should provide some cover.”

Following his lead, we stumbled into the grove, huddling beneath the wide, needled branches. The rain still lashed at us, but at least the pines broke the worst of the wind. My pulse slowed slightly, though the oppressive weight of wrongness in the air didn’t dissipate.

“This won’t hold for long,” Kane said, crouching to press a hand to the wet earth. His pale blue-violet eyes flickered as he scanned the area, his elemental magic humming faintly in the air. “We need higher ground and something defensible.”

“There’s a clearing nearby,” Mason offered, his deep voice carrying effortlessly even in the storm. He pointed eastward, his movements deliberate. “Steeper, more exposed, but stable.”

“Lead the way,” Kane said with a curt nod, already on his feet. He trusted Mason’s instincts without question. We followed Mason up the muddy slope, the climb grueling and slow.

My boots sank deep into the mud with every step, cold water seeping into my socks and numbing my toes. My legs burned, my breath came in ragged gasps, and my glasses fogged up in the freezing rain. My body screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t dare. I couldn’t be the weak link.

Kane’s sharp voice cut through the storm. “You’re slowing us down.” He stopped abruptly ahead of me, his expression hard as his pale blue-violet eyes flicked over me. With an exaggerated sigh, he moved closer, his hand darting out to grasp my forearm just as my foot slid on the slick mud. His grip was firm, but the way he set his jaw made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about offering help.

“Try to keep up,” he said brusquely, his voice tinged with irritation. Still, he didn’t let go, his steady hold preventing me from losing my footing again. Despite his gruffness, the warmth of his hand seeped through the layers of cold and wet.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

He exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line before he muttered, “You're part of the team.”

The rain battered against us as we crested the hill, revealing the clearing Mason had described. The space was small, rocky, and surrounded by dense trees. The slope on one side offered some shelter from the relentless wind, but it was still far from ideal. It would have to do.

“Start fortifying,” Kane ordered, his voice cutting through the roar of the storm as he released my hand. “Mason, get started on the structure. Raze, help him. Tess, gather some sticks for a fire. I’ll oversee the rest.” His gaze flicked to me briefly, his tone softening but still brisk. “Stay close.”

Without waiting for a response, the group moved with practiced efficiency. Mason’s massive frame seemed unaffected by the downpour as he began gathering and driving thick branches into the ground to form a framework. Raze darted between him and the treeline, collecting stones and additional branches that Mason used to anchor and reinforce the base. Kane, standing at the center of the clearing, raised his hands. Streams of elemental energy swirled around him, weaving vines and branches together into a tightly-knit lattice that formed the roof and walls of the shelter.

I crouched down, gathering sticks as instructed. I couldn't help but steal glances at them through the sheets of rain. Watching them work was mesmerizing—Mason’s raw strength, Raze’s agility, and Kane’s precise, almost elegant control over the elements. Despite the chaos of the storm, they moved like parts of a well-oiled machine, each action purposeful and efficient.

Within minutes, a sturdy shelter took shape, its slanted design and reinforced sides offering protection from the elements. Kane stepped back, inspecting the structure with a critical eye before giving a satisfied nod. “It’ll hold,” he said simply.

I gathered my small pile of sticks, clutching them tightly as I followed Mason's urging. His dark eyes softened as he looked at me. “Get inside. You’re soaked.”

I hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of my thoughts for not contributing more. But Mason’s firm yet gentle tone left no room for argument. Hugging the damp sticks to my chest, I ducked into the shelter. The warmth of their combined efforts—and the promise of a potential fire—offered a brief reprieve from the storm raging outside.

We huddled together, the sturdy walls shielding us from the relentless rain. Outside, the storm roared on, but at least we had a barrier between us and the worst of its fury.

“This storm isn’t random,” Kane said, his tone clipped but thoughtful. He sat cross-legged near the entrance, his sharp features shadowed in the dim light. “The Guild’s testing us. They’re watching how we handle adversity—and each other.”

“No kidding.” Raze stretched out on his back, his hands tucked behind his head as if the chaos outside were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Bet they’re watching us right now, rubbing their hands together like the sadistic bastards they are.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mason said quietly, leaning against one of the shelter’s supporting branches. His massive presence seemed to anchor the entire structure. “We’ll get through it.”

The storm raged on outside, relentless as ever, but inside the shelter, we were finally starting to settle. My clothes clung to me, damp and cold, but at least I wasn’t soaked anymore. The makeshift roof Kane had created held strong, keeping the worst of the rain out.

Raze stretched his long limbs and smirked. “Well, since we’re stuck here and not likely to die in the next hour, I think it’s time we eat.” He reached into his pack and pulled out two limp rabbits, holding them up by their back legs.

I wrinkled my nose at the sight, but my stomach growled audibly, betraying me. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until now. “Please tell me you’ve done this before,” I said, eyeing the rabbits warily.

Raze let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve done this more times than you can count. Trust me, I’m a professional.” He crouched near the edge of the shelter, pulling his knife from his belt. The blade gleamed even in the dim light. “You might not want to watch if you’re squeamish.”

I turned away, not particularly eager to witness the butchering process. Instead, I focused on Kane, who was already inspecting the damp pile of sticks I'd managed to collect earlier. His pale hands moved methodically, sorting through them with the clinical precision of someone who hated inefficiency.

“These are soaked,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Give me a minute.” He closed his eyes, and a faint hum of magic filled the air. His fingers twitched, and I watched as the sticks began to dry before my eyes, the moisture evaporating into thin wisps of steam. The faint scent of pine filled the shelter as he worked.

“That’s handy,” I said, genuinely impressed. “Can you do that with all laundry, or just wood?”

Kane’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t dignify my comment with a response. Instead, he arranged the now-dry sticks into a neat pile and crouched over them, his hands moving in a fluid, practiced motion. A spark of flame danced to life between his fingertips, then leapt to the kindling. Within moments, a small but steady fire crackled in the center of the shelter, its orange light casting flickering shadows on the walls.

“Fire’s ready,” Kane announced, his tone clipped but satisfied. His gaze flicked briefly to me before returning to the flames. “Try not to burn yourself.”

I scooted closer to the fire, its warmth chasing away the lingering chill as I extended my hands toward the flames. My fingers tingled, coming alive in the heat. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly. “I’ll do my best.”

Raze finished his work with the rabbits, his mood as light as ever. His hands moved with the quick, practiced efficiency of someone who’d done this countless times. “All right, they’re ready to cook.”

Before he could say more, I reached for the rabbits, surprising him. “I’ll cook them,” I offered, my voice more certain than I expected. “I’ve got this.”

Raze raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Feeling ambitious, are we?”

I shrugged, already rummaging through my pack for the small bundle of herbs I’d gathered earlier. “I just... want to help more. And, well, I’m actually a decent cook when I get the chance.” I pulled out the sprigs of wild thyme, rosemary, and the vaguely oregano-scented leaves I’d picked along the way. “Besides, you all deserve something more than a handful of blackberries.”

Raze smirked. “Fair point.”

With a quick glance around, I knelt near the fire and laid the herbs out on a flat rock to keep them dry. Mason appeared at my side with a clean stick, wordlessly holding it out for me to use as a makeshift skewer. “Thanks,” I said softly, flashing him a small smile.

I began to work, using Raze’s knife to split the rabbits and carefully season them. Crushing the herbs between my fingers, I rubbed the fragrant oils into the meat as evenly as I could.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” Mason said, breaking the silence. His deep voice was quiet, almost tender, as he glanced at me. He was a few feet away, reinforcing one of the shelter’s supports. His dark eyes flicked toward me, their warmth cutting through the evening chill.

“Yep,” I replied, glancing up briefly. “Or at least, I like to think I can. I had a lot of time to experiment when I lived on my own. Cooking became... therapeutic, I guess. I figured if I was going to eat, I might as well learn how to make it taste decent.”

“Well, here’s hoping your experiments paid off,” Raze quipped, leaning back on his elbows. “Because if this tastes like charcoal, we’re calling you out.”

“Noted,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. “Now, shut up and let me concentrate.”

As the scent of rosemary and thyme began to mingle with the smoke from the fire, I couldn’t help but feel a small spark of pride. This wasn’t much, but it was something—something I could do to contribute, to take care of the people who had, in their own ways, started to feel like family.

Once the rabbits were seasoned and skewered, Kane used his magic to create a makeshift grill over the fire, arranging a few flat stones to hold the skewers in place. I had to admit, for someone who didn’t seem to care much about teamwork, he was surprisingly good at making things work.

As the meat began to cook, the shelter filled with the mouthwatering aroma of roasted rabbit and herbs. Even Kane, who seemed determined to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, glanced toward the fire with a hint of interest.

“Smells good,” Mason said, his voice low but genuine.

“Better than I expected,” Kane added grudgingly.

“High praise coming from you,” I said, smirking. “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.”

When the rabbits were finally done, we divided them up, each of us taking a portion. The first bite was tentative, but as soon as the flavors hit my tongue, I couldn’t help but grin. The meat was tender and smoky, the herbs adding just the right amount of brightness to balance it out.

“Damn,” Raze said, his amber eyes wide with surprise. “This is actually... really good.”

Kane nodded once, his expression inscrutable but his actions speaking volumes as he took another bite without hesitation. “Acceptable,” he said, which, coming from him, might as well have been a standing ovation.

Mason didn’t say anything, but the soft curve of his lips and the way he polished off his portion told me everything I needed to know.

“Looks like you’re not just the librarian anymore,” Raze said, flashing me a teasing grin. “You’re officially the team chef.”

“Don’t push it,” I said, laughing despite myself. For the first time since the storm had started, I felt a flicker of warmth—not just from the fire, but from the camaraderie slowly taking root among us.

It felt good to contribute, even in small ways like this. I’d always loved the feeling of being part of something bigger—a team working together, each person bringing their own strengths to the table. Sure, we were stuck in a makeshift shelter in the middle of the mountains, but this shared moment reminded me of why I wanted to be here. These people, even with all their jagged edges and secrets, were starting to feel like something close to a family.