When they pulled away from each other the crowd was pulsing, the noise from the stadium escalating with every moment, the electricity building like a pre-storm surge of wind and lightning. August half-expected to hear a roll of thunder. “Promise you’ll be listening?” he whispered.
Doren touched his lips with a kiss as light as mist. “I am always listening.”
“Time to go, Doren!”
August couldn’t place the voice, but Doren responded instantly. He wanted to try begging Doren not to go again, to not take what could be the worst step of his life. But if Doren was, it didn’t stop him from pulling away and walking onto the stage.