Page 44 of Broken Rejected Mate

No crying, I push to him, increasing my pace, already thinking about that moment the edge of town will come into view.Just running.

***

“That smellsso good!” Sarina cries, running ahead of us, bouncing on her heels. I don’t look, but I can feel Veva smiling at her. Anytime Sarina is happy, Veva is, too.

“It’s the barbecue,” I say, glancing at Veva, seeing if she’s figured it out yet. “Part of the competition every year.”

“Oh, Emin, you made it sound like this was going to be fun,” Veva jokes, rolling her eyes. “Is it the cloud watching festival?”

“It is,” I nod, watching Sarina’s mouth fall open the moment we turn the corner. Our town here at the center of the territory is the central hub for the pack, but it’s also the venue for the cloud watching festival every year.

When we were together in high school, Veva made it clear what her feelings were on it, but I’ve always loved it. I love the crowds, milling around. I love the rows and rows of people ontheir backs, pointing up at the sky. I love the themed food and the competitions and the sense of community that it brings.

And, glancing at Veva now, seeing how she takes it all in, I realize she might have been exaggerating her hatred for the festival. That maybe it had less to do with the festival itself, and more to do with the fact that back then, I never would have brought her as my date.

The second I think it, I reach over and lace my fingers through hers, tugging her so she’s walking closer to me.

At first, when she meets my eyes, hers are filled with surprise. It quickly melts to something softer, and she glances down at our hands, giving mine a squeeze.

Sarina turns around, and Veva pulls her hand from mine. I swallow down my disappointment.

“What is it, though?” Sarina asks, eyes wide as she looks around. “Why are all these people here? And when did this start? Why is it—”

“Okay,” I laugh, holding up a hand and bringing us to a stop in front of one of the vendors. “Those are questions for a book. But I can tell you what I know about the festival, will that work?”

The line moves forward, and Sarina nods.

“So, this is the Ambersky territory. Do you know why it’s called that?”

Sarina shakes her head, glances at Veva. Of course her mother knows—it’s a required lesson in school. She just never told her daughter because Sarina has never been a child of the Ambersky pack.

I clear my throat, then say, “We’re called the Ambersky because in the fall, our skies are so clear that you can see the auroras, millions of them, all in shades of yellow—”

“Amber,” Sarina whispers, and I nod.

“Ambersky sounds a lot better thanyellowsky, huh?”

“So, what does that have to do with cloud watching?” Sarina asks, not laughing at my joke. Veva gives me a sympathetic snort.

“This is the last week of summer, and as the climate shifts, it brings with it heightened humidity. It’s the one week of the year that we have clouds—so many of them. Fluffy and big and white. So we celebrate with a festival, get all the cloud watching in while we can.”

We reach the front of the line and I order us three drinks. Sarina watches, amazed, as the vendor creates them for us—Veva’s pink, mine blue, and Sarina’s amber—spinning sugar-lofted clouds into each of them, using candy and magic to create a drink that encapsulates the feeling of cloud watching.

“Woah,” Sarina whispers, accepting the drink and staring into it. “How do theydothat?”

“Casting,” Veva says, and there’s an edge to her voice that wasn’t there before. “Magic, like what we have.”

Sarina busies herself with her drink, and I skim my thumb over Veva’s hand. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry,” she says, staring down at her cup. Her clouds start to move, and I realize she’s casting on them herself, turning them to different shapes. “I never—well, I haven’t had one of these since I was really little. Before my dad died.”

One night in the middle of her heat, she’d rested her head on my chest and told me about her father dying in a skirmish onthe border, patrolling and protecting this land. She told me how, after that, her mother fell apart.

If she was deep in her addiction, her mother was likely not bringing her to the cloud watching festival.

And, when we were teenagers, I wasn’t bringing her, either.

“Well, we have a lot of lost time to make up for, don’t we?” I ask. Then, spinning around, I tap Sarina on the shoulder. “What do you say? Want to give cloud-wrangling a go?”

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