Free Larkstorm by Dawn Rae Miller Page B

for the best. Perhaps Beck isn’t the right mate for you.”
    My spine tingles with anger.
    “He’s my mate! My mate! What have you always said? We’re two sides of a coin? How can you even say that he’s not the best choice for me?”
    She stands up, her face no longer composed. “Lark Greene , you stop that right now. Yelling at me is not going to bring Beck back.”
    Shamed, I raise my eyes to Bethina. Her face is tear-stained and she looks like she’s been up for days.
    “Where is he? Please tell me.” I try to sound pathetic, but what I really want is to sound menacing.
    I want answers.
    “I told you. The State took him. He’s not in jail. I’m positive of that. They’re probably interrogating the two of them. Now get control of yourself so we can discuss what needs to be done.” Her voice is firm. She’s done babying me.
    “ Fine. ”
    “You need to give me your necklace.” Bethina extends her hand.
      “What? No.” I cover it protectively. Why would she want my necklace?
    Her hand is cupped, waiting. “A clean break.”
    The pressure continues to build inside of me, gathering speed like the beads of water. I’m spinning out of control. I want so badly to make someone feel my hurt.
    Bethina’s head turns toward a faint cracking noise. “What in the…”
    Before she finishes, the glass sitting on the side table explodes, sending water and glass spraying into the air.
    Bethina screams.
    I leap from my seat and yank at the door. It bursts open and I sprint to the stairs. jumping over the split banister, and running for my room. I’m not sure what just happened, but if the State thinks — wrongly — Beck and Kyra are Sensitives, there’s a good chance the real culprits are in our house somewhere. B iding their time.
    Fear claws at me as I shove my curious housemates out of my way. Behind me, I leave a trail of confusion.
    I reach my room and kick the door shut with my foot. I expect Bethina to barge in at any moment — or worse, the real Sensitives — so I wedge my desk chair under the doorknob.
    And then I sink to the floor, my body convulsing with sobs.
    How did this day go wrong so fast?
    Seconds, then minutes, then an hour pass. Just when I think I’m out of tears, the memory of Beck’s soft lips brushing mine floats back to me. And even worse, he asked me to skip and I said no. If I had gone, maybe he’d still be here. Or, if I’d gone with him, I’d be facing life as an accused Sensitive too, with no chance at a real future.
    Oh God. What if they’re going to put him on trial? What if I’m forced to watch Beck paraded across the screen, vilified and sentenced to jail? Or worse, sentenced to death if the State determines he actively sought to undermine its stability.
    I rub my hands over my face and dig my fingers into the bridge of my nose. This can’t be happening.
    “Lark? Do you need anything?” Bethina raps softly on the door. She doesn’t try to enter.
    My raw throat burns when I speak. “Leave me alone.”
    Her footsteps fade as she walks away. The hazy afternoon light filters through the window. It’s only been two hours since I arrived home. But it’s been nearly three hours since I last saw Beck. Maybe if I had insisted he talk to me and tell me what was scaring him, this wouldn’t have happened. Or if I hadn’t kept pulling away from him, he would have told me.
    I shake my head. No, I can’t think like that. I need to think forward . I can’t change what’s already happened.
    I twist myself into a ball, broken. My breath is still ragged. My hair has slipped from its ponytail and is knotted about my shoulders. My room, our room, is strangely the same. All I see, everywhere I look, is Beck. I wrap myself tighter with my arms and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that when I open them, Beck will be standing in front of me, wiggling his eyebrows or sprawled on his bed reading.
    Instead, all of Beck’s things are here, waiting for him to come back. The clothes he wore