CHAPTER 1
One Missed Call
The skies darkened, from one heartbeat to the next.
Nikhail Galebringer was standing among the charred, ruined remains of Hydrangea House. The building, which had served as Chancellor Rose’s residence until it was attacked mere hours ago, was now a crime scene.
He was mid-conversation with Therian Firebreath when clouds swept across the sky, replacing the clear blue expanse that had been there moments before. Nikhail paused mid-sentence and curled his fingers around the sooty brick he’d been bagging for evidence.
The air shifted. Nikhail tilted his head, scanning the sky.
The sun vanished altogether. Disappeared, as though it had never been there. The temperature plummeted. Icy fingers clawed at his cheeks, seeking his attention.
Demanding it.
Unease churned in Nikhail’s stomach, dark and unwanted. His skin prickled, and a chill swept down his spine.
“What the fuck?” Therian’s gruff voice broke through Nikhail’s thoughts. The dragon shifter craned his neck. “Was it supposed to rain today?”
Nikhail’s skin crawled, and a sense of utter wrongness, as though he’d ingested oil, swept through him. It had nothing to do with the rebels’ attack on the Chancellor’s home, the fact that the Black Night had escalated to mass murder, or even that deep down, he knew that the republic they called their home was broken and neither the Representatives nor the murderous rebels were the right people to fix it.
No, Nikhail felt off in a way he’d never before experienced because those weren’t regular clouds. This storm was not a natural force of nature. It was coming on too hard, too fast. The clouds were too dark. Abnormal in size and shape. The wind had a sharp edge, like the tip of a polished blade.
Instead of answering, Nikhail stepped away from Therian and moved out from beneath the canvas pop-up tent where they’d been working. His stomach churned.
This is wrong, the wind whispered in Nikhail’s ears.It’s?—
The charcoal clouds burst.
Rain fell—not in tiny droplets or a misty shower. This wasn’t a passing sprinkle or something that could easily be ignored. Water gushed from the sky in a torrent, as if someone had turned on a tap full blast.
Everything was soaked in a heartbeat.
Puddles formed where there had been none. Rain sluiced off the tops of temporary tents, gathering on the frozen ground. Thunder rumbled angrily in the distance.
The dark, unnatural storm raged around them, and Nikhail’s chestwrenched.
And then, the rain touched him. The moment he felt it, he knew. By the Blessed Obsidian Sands, heknewexactly where this storm had originated.
Nikhail’s magic slammed against the confines of his veins, a battering ram unwilling to be ignored. Dread churned inside him, a terrible whirlpool. Every part of him screamed.
He was drenched in a heartbeat, hair sticking to his face and clothes molding to his frame, but it didn’t matter. Nor did it matter that his suit was ruined or that his designer shoes would have to be thrown out.
What were appearances in the face ofthis?
For one singular moment, Nikhail froze. Fear, unlike anything he had ever felt, swept through him. Gripped him in its claws and refused to release him. Therian might’ve spoken, but the dragon shifter’s words didn’t register.
Nikhail couldn’t hear anything at all. The only thing he could do was stare at the endless expanse of black sky and the deluge of water, knowing that there was only one person who could cause such an abundance of devastation in such a short period of time.
Hisperson.
He’d left River a few hours ago, and everything had seemed fine. She’d been going to her parents’ house. He’d thought everything would be okay…
But he’d been wrong.
Nikhail pushed past the fear, forcing it to release him. He couldn’t afford to remain frozen any longer.
Reaching a trembling hand into his pocket, somehow already knowing what he’d find when he did so, he pulled out his phone. The fae tech was waterproof and fireproof, built to withstand even the strongest of storms and the hottest of fires. He wiped away the water gathering on the surface.