She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, fighting to breathe. The notch her Swiss army knife had made several weeks ago sat behind her head, a slight depression that reminded her of how very stupid she was capable of being. She had been reviewing the tapes of the trials when the text arrived, and it might as well have been in bold red from how much it stung her eyes to read.

ARIA, FORMER MIST DIVISION LEADER IS A TRAITOR.

That explained the sudden explosion and fighting she'd seen previously.

And the rest was a blur she could read but had trouble comprehending, just like how she wasn’t sure how fast she had flown from the common lounge to her room. This was a day that probably would have eventually happened anyway, given how the Circle’s impromptu trials had brought some of them into question. Stormy had just thought that they would have had more time.

“You thought everyone would be fine. You thought if you could continue ******** around like you normally do, situations would fix themselves.”

They. And who were “they”? She didn’t even know the names of those she had decided to help on the Halloween side—just that they were Aria’s friends and allies. She hadn’t chosen to join to help them; in the end she had chosen because it meant helping her leader out, because Stormy couldn’t bear the thought of someone fighting alone, and because maybe, just maybe, Deus needed all the help it could get at the moment. And now Aria was gone. Now the three of them had to fend for themselves while the division came into tighter scrutiny.

Stormy shuddered at the thought. She’d already received a mark on her record for her behavior in the trials. If they had found out Aria’s alliance, had they found out the others’ as well . . . ? That too was only a matter of time, if they had any suspicions whatsoever.

Thane?

Silence.

Thane, please talk to me . . .

Always silence.

Trembling, Stormy plucked the ring off and let it sit in the palm of her hand, concerned and growing more and more frightened. This was not the first time her partner had given her the cold shoulder, but it had been far too long since he had said something; the dracolich was partial to berating her for her mistakes and nudging her towards the ones he felt more appropriate. Something was going on.

Concentrating, she tried to summon her weapon. Nothing happened. A second time, and still nothing happened. It was like trying to flex a muscle that didn’t exist. The ring didn’t so much as light up for her effort. And yet Stormy kept trying, mentally shouting his name until she was almost driven to physically do so, sliding against the door until she was on the ground. No, no, no— She slid the ring back onto the ring finger of her right hand, the place Thane always desummoned to until she moved it (always so possessive, always so assured that she could only ever be his), and called out more into the emptiness.

Was it the bracelet? Did it take time to wear off? No, no, the others had looked more relieved once the cuffs were off, it couldn’t be . . . Sign the paper and be a Hunter again, that was the deal. She clutched at her head, torn between grief and guilt, and thought some more until the obvious answer finally slapped her through the haze of emotion.

The Binding. Was this what Aria had had meant when she said it would be better not to know what would happen if they talked? That it would literally strip them of their means of defending themselves?

The terrorizing realization of her situation slowly began to dawn on Stormy: The leaders would have their eyes on the Mist Division in case any more suspicious activity happened, she had already shown herself as a possible weak link, and when, not if, they found out about the three of them, they would most likely be killed on the spot for associating with a known traitor instead of reporting her. And she had no means of protecting herself or how to fix it.

How had they found out? Aria had done an excellent job of hiding her ties up until now. Unless . . . no. She gripped her hair tighter and gulped down a breath, chilled at the very thought that either Cass or Nevada had talked. They’d agreed to get into this together . . . They would probably judge her for telling Gale, but she had left names out, changed the story to try and fit it to the truth. It was different.

Why? asked the little voice in her head standing in for Thane, the one she had long before Deus, the one that was hers alone and refused to let go of past mistakes. Because you had good intentions in sharing it with Gale whom, in case you’ve forgotten, works for the man in charge of information gathering? You had good intentions when you murdered that Hunter, too.

Stormy curled up and held herself tighter, guilt rising like bile in her throat. Maybe Thane was right: maybe she was weak-willed. She sat and breathed and did nothing for what felt like an hour until her heart rate calmed down and her palms weren’t drenched in cold sweat. And in that false hour, she thought and thought and thought.

What are you going to do now? asked the voice.

What I always will do: help people.

You’re already at risk of being ousted as a traitor, and you have no weapon. You can help yourself by keeping your head down until things are settled.

Uncurling, Stormy flexed her stiff limbs and got to her feet, running a hand through her hair as she moved about: coat, clothes, boots. She flicked the swiss army knife open.

It’s either wait and pray they don’t find the rest of us or do something about this mess, she argued, stabbing the knife down at her leg until it hit resistance. Some relief flooded her anxious mind; at least she still had a shield up. Her weapon wasn’t completely gone then, it had to just be sealed. Bound even, she thought wryly. Miss Aria’s gone, but I’m still a Mist. I’m still loyal.

Tell that to the people who find out what happened underground.

She slid her coat on and pocketed the knife. I can’t worry about that right now, not when the division’s in disarray. Mr. Lance will need help. And that was all there was to it for now.

As she walked out of her room, another thought struck her, vague at first until it hit her like a brick. December 6th. Stormy froze as she remembered it was Gale's birthday, and then lamented that she wasn't able to give him something more meaningful than the text she then sent out promptly.

xkurotomato
Text to Gale:
Happy 18th, William Sherlock Turner!! I don't have any presents just yet, but I promise as soon as I can you'll get some! <333


No mention of her troubles, nothing of the Aria debacle, not a word about what she had seen on the tapes. She felt sick with how saccharine the message was and made another quickly after.

xkurotomato
Text to Gale:
Stay safe and warm. I'm going to do a few things and then I'll come find you later?


She didn't know what else to say like this. The world was starting to turn a little too fast, and it made her dizzy.

There was one thing more she needed to do before going to see Lance. And after that, well, Stormy could hope that somehow the new division leader would be more understanding than paranoid.