by Aileen Erin
I remembered what Roan had said and nearly groaned at how obvious I was being. “I’m not jealous at all.”
“Liar.”
“What are you doing here?” He usually didn’t show up until I was mid-nightmare.
The grin slowly melted off his face, and I wanted it back.
“What did he say to you?” He didn’t need to name who he meant. I knew.
When I didn’t say anything, he dropped his head again. “Please.”
I didn’t see any good coming from telling him what his father said to me. I stayed frozen in my spot as I watched him. “It really doesn’t matter. Knowing won’t change anything.”
He stood slowly. “It matters. I know it had to have been horrible.”
If he wasn’t taking no for an answer, then I had to give him the best non-answer I could and then change the subject. “He didn’t say anything that I didn’t already know. You don’t have to worry about—”
His skin flashed bright, and he stepped toward me. I could feel his anger flowing off of him, and I knew I had to say the right thing, or he’d lose it completely. But what good would come from Lorne knowing that his father had propositioned me? And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if Lorne thought I was worthy or not. If I was, then that made everything more complicated. And if not, then my self-esteem might take a hit. It was a solid lose-lose.
I licked my lips, trying to give myself time to come up with something to say—the right words that would help him out—but my best bet was to pivot the subject at least a little. “Your father’s a mess. At first, I thought he was drunk—”
“He was absolutely wasted. He’s smart and cunning—no matter what state he’s in. What did he say?” Lorne took another step toward me.
I took a small step back. Okay. New subject. “Why haven’t you taken over for him yet?”
“Because I needed you back first. What did he say?” He took another step toward me.
I took a step back. “Me? That’s…” Stupid? Idiotic? Dumb? I couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t be insulting. “Why did you need me back?”
He gave me a moaning sigh. “Because.” He sighed one more time. “Because I didn’t trust myself not to give SpaceTech whatever they wanted just so that I could have the freedom to go back to Earth and search for you myself. I knew you were there somewhere—alive and scared—and if I had even the smallest bit of power, I would’ve used it to get you back.”
What? That made no sense. “You couldn’t possibly care about some girl you knew over a decade ago to give up—”
“You are my shalshasa.” He stomped toward me, nearly closing the distance between us. “It makes complete sense.”
I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry or scream, but damn it—I didn’t understand. We weren’t even speaking the same language.
Plarsha was right. I had to ask him. Instead of taking another step back, I took a step toward him.
I was going to get my answer. Now. Tonight. “Everyone refers to me as your shalshasa, and I have no clue what it means. I don’t understand other than that we’re betrothed, but—”
His eyes were wider than I’d ever seen. All the anger—along with his glow—seemed to drain away from him. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
My ignorance was about to hurt him—and I hated that—but I hated my ignorance more. “My mind was wiped. I don’t have my memories.” I didn’t get why this was so hard for people to understand, but apparently, it was. “I don’t know what shalshasa means or why it’s important or why everyone keeps calling me that. The translator tonight turned it into mirror soul—as if that makes any sense at all—but I still don’t understand. I feel lost and confused all the time, and if I knew what that word really meant, then maybe I would know at least one little piece of who I’m supposed to be and why I’m such a fucking disappointment to everyone.” I shoved him, but he didn’t even move an inch. “Answer the question. What the hell does shalshasa mean?”
“I…” He closed his eyes. “I…” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I’m sorry. I need a second. I’ll answer you. Of course I will. I just need a second to process. You’ve just shattered me, and I feel like a fool for not understanding sooner. You must be so—”
Damn. I knew this was going to hurt him. I backed away from him. “I shouldn’t have asked.” Everything I did and said was the wrong thing, and that was more frustration than I could take tonight. “Forget—”
“No. I won’t forget. We will deal with this together like two shalshasa should.”
I was going to kill Plarsha the next time I saw her. She planted the idea that I should ask him, and now this was about to be a total shitshow. I could already tell.
Lorne gave a crazed half-laugh, half-cry, and he looked frantic as he shoved his hands through his hair and paced away from me. “Goddess. It’s like my heart keeps getting ripped from my chest in a fun new way every day, and you don’t even know you’re doing it.”
Shit. I’d really fucked this up. “I’m sorry. Can we just forget—”
“Don’t apologize for something that was done to you when you were a child.” His fao’ana flickered, but as he turned to me, the flickering faded and died. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…I’ve never had to explain it before.” He closed the distance between us and gripped my hands in his. “Answer me one question first.”
The way his hands gripped mine and the way he was looking down at me made my skin glow. But that was okay because his was glowing, too. “Okay.”
“Be honest. No lies.”
I stared into his aquamarine eyes and nodded. I couldn’t lie to him. Not really. Not when he was so upset.
“How do you feel about me?”
I was dumbstruck again. Same as with Plarsha. Nothing came out. No words. No thoughts. But a single tear slipped free, rolling down my cheek.
He let go of one hand to brush it away. “That much, huh?” He gave me a sad half-grin.
“I…” I tugged my other hand free. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not sad. I just…overwhelmed. I guess I don’t understand some of what I’m feeling. I thought maybe if you told me what shalshasa meant, then I’d get it. You know?”
“All right then. Let’s ease into it.” He sat on the floor and crisscrossed his legs. He patted the floor in front of him.
I took a look around the room as if I could find some way to ignore him. The vidscreen was still playing the news on mute, and maybe I could get him to move over to the chairs. But it’d be better if I could avoid this talk entirely.
I was supposed to be putting the brakes on my stupid crush on him. I couldn’t sit on the floor with him. Not when he was all heartbroken and sweet. “I’m tired.” I motioned to the bed. “I was—”
“Please. It might help you sleep, but if nothing else, you should understand what we are. It’s important.”
Okay. Those were the magic words. I plopped down in front of him, and he gripped my hands in his again. It felt uncomfortable and intimate to be sitting here, holding hands, staring into his eyes. My knees were touching his and my heart was starting to race and this stupid crush needed to die.
But I really needed to sleep more. I would do almost anything for a night without nightmares waking me.
He gave me a reassuring smile, one that made my stomach flip. “Say the first thing that comes to your mind. No right or wrong answers. No judgment. Just say it quickly.”
What? “No. I thought you were going to explain to me—”
“I am. Just go with me on this for a second.”
“Fine.” I knew the word association game he was playing, but it was dumb.
“Abaddon.”
I raised a brow. “You’re just jumping in with the big guns, huh?”
I tried to pull my hands away, but he started rubbing his thumbs up and down my wrists.
“Abaddon,” he said again.
“Burning.” I could almost feel the heat.
He didn�
��t react to my answer. “Earth.”
I had so many feelings about Earth. It was my home, but… “Deadly.”
“SpaceTech.”
“Evil.” I hated that company with everything in my soul. It had to be stopped.
“Sel’Ani.”
That was a hard one. “I don’t know.”
He tilted his head as he looked at me. “Say it. No right or wrong. I won’t be offended.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to pull away again, but his grip stayed strong.
I hadn’t been worried about him being offended, but now I was. But I didn’t know how I felt about this planet yet. It didn’t feel like home, but I didn’t know that I disliked it exactly. It was different. “Complicated?”
“I understand.” He nodded as if he agreed with me. If he’d been offended, it didn’t show. “Roan.”
I grinned just thinking of him. “The best.” He really was.
“Declan.”
The grin disappeared. “Annoying.” If he’d asked me a few weeks ago, the answer would’ve been different, but Declan was seriously annoying me these days.
Lorne laughed hard at that. “He is a bit, right?”
Lorne leaned a little closer toward me, and I felt myself leaning closer, too.
“He’s on a mission right now. He’s exhausting. I understand and admire it, but I…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say.
“It’s okay. I’m not judging your answers.” Lorne looked away for a minute as if he were choosing his words very carefully. When he looked back at me, his shoulders drooped a little. “Declan was my best friend for a long time, but I regret how life has changed him, especially recently. He used to smile more, and I rarely see that side of him anymore. Even now, we want the same thing, but…”
They both wanted SpaceTech gone. They both knew war was coming. But I was pretty sure that was where the similarities between them ended. I wondered if Lorne missed his best friend, though. I’d miss Roan a lot if something ever came between us.
“Ahiga.” Lorne’s voice was heavier now. Deeper.
“We’re still doing this?”
He didn’t say anything. Just waited.
“Fine.” I sighed. “Friend. Ahiga’s my friend.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Mother.”
“Lorne.”
“Safe.” Wait. What? He’d said his own name so easily, I didn’t think.
Lorne’s skin lit up brighter than I’d ever seen before, and his smile took my breath away.
He was safe? If he’d asked me if I felt safe around him, I think I’d say the opposite. I felt like I was losing it every time he was around. But I wasn’t about to take it back. “I don’t understand why I said that.” I tried to pull my hands away, and this time he let me. And for some stupid reason, I was kind of sad about that.
He stared at me for a second and then rolled his eyes. He reached forward, snatching my hands back. “You are so confusing. You don’t want me to hold your hands, but you want me to hold them?”
“Oh my god.” How did he see through me? I used to be good at hiding my feelings. “Why are we even doing this?”
“Because you wanted to understand what you’re feeling, and I’m trying to help you see.” He gave my hands a shake. “You and I are different from everyone else. We have some unusual fao’ana. I’m not sure why, but that’s just how we were born. They’re the reason we’re supposed to rule together, the reason we are supposed to be together, the reason we’re destined to live our lives together. But the important thing—which you already instinctively knew—is that shalshasa are always safer when they’re together. It’s because of the unique way our soul songs interact. We never spent more than a few hours apart from the day I first met you until the day I left you on Earth.”
He’d never brought that up before. He never talked about why I was left on Earth. Neither did my mother or my father or Declan. It happened, and that was all anyone would say about that. “Why did you—”
Something that looked a bit like regret flickered across his face and then was gone. “That’s a very long story, and I will tell you, but we’re doing this now. This is more important than how you ended up on Earth alone. If you don’t understand what you are—what we are—then we have a big problem.” He leaned closer. “And I haven’t forgotten that you didn’t tell me what my father said.”
I really didn’t want to tell him. It would only piss him off, and why would I want to do that? “You really don’t want to know. It’s not good, and knowing won’t fix anything.”
“I still want to know. We’ll get back to that in a minute.” He blew out a breath, and I thought he was trying to fix his glowing skin, but it didn’t dim. It still had a soft glow to it. He didn’t even seem concerned about it.
“I didn’t go through what you did. I never feared for my safety the way that you have for the last thirteen years, but I feel more settled with you here. Like I can finally relax a little.”
My cheeks warmed. I couldn’t trust what I’d say next. We weren’t even doing anything—just sitting here on the floor talking, holding hands—and it felt like maybe the most intimate night of my life. “This is silly.”
“No, it’s not. I feel like I understand you so much better now. Let’s go again. Please.” He grinned at me, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to say no to him. Not when he was smiling like that.
“Glowing,” he said.
I looked down at our hands. Both glowing. Mine more than his. “Bad.”
“Why is it bad?” He didn’t sound upset. “You’re on Sel’Ani. It’s okay to show your true nature.”
That one I could answer pretty easily. “For a couple of reasons. Partly because if someone saw me glowing on Earth, they’d kill me. Brutally. Until I was really, really dead. More dead than I was when you put me in the healing pod three weeks ago. Glowing means my death to me. I think it’ll take time for that survival instinct to go away. Or at least I hope it’ll go away eventually.”
“It will, and the other reason?”
“I just feel…exposed and really uncomfortable when my skin is glowing. I don’t like that everyone knows what I’m feeling. It’s…unpleasant.”
“Okay.” He nodded for a second. He seemed to do that a lot when he was thinking. “Okay. I understand, but you’re going to have to let that go. I know you’ve gotten really used to hiding your Aunare side, but you’re going to have to work on accepting it now that you’re here. But you should know that no one knows what you’re feeling. We can make a guess based on context, but no one knows for sure. The glow is a warning to anyone close by that you’re riding an emotional edge. Sometimes we glow because we’re happy. And sometimes it’s the first warning that you’re readying for a fight. But it’s never a bad thing or anything to be embarrassed about. No one has full control over their emotions because we’re not robots. This is normal for us.”
He tilted his head as he stared at me. “I want to know what my father said because not only did you glow, but your fao’ana started to show up, and they haven’t in three weeks. That means that he said something truly terrible, and you must’ve felt threatened in some way.”
That wasn’t true. “Not threatened exactly.”
“I feel like if I know what he said exactly, then I can tell you how wrong he is.” He waited, and from the way he leaned toward me, I knew he was waiting for me to tell him.
But I couldn’t. So, I didn’t say anything.
“Something less fraught,” he said finally. He didn’t sound disappointed, but from the look on his face, I knew he hadn’t dropped the subject entirely. “Eshrin.”
I shrugged because I didn’t really have strong feelings for my guard. “Nice. I guess?”
“Poor Eshrin.” He gave me a wink. “Nice is the worst.”
“Nice isn’t bad.” I liked Eshrin. I just didn’t think I needed any guards, and I didn’t really know him.
“Guards,” he said.
�
��Unnecessary.” Because they were.
The grin was gone from his face in an instant, and he leaned away from me again. “Yes, they are. They really are.” He was quiet for a second, and then a funny look crossed his face. “You know, you used to ditch your guards when you were little.”
A surprised laugh slipped free. “No way.” Little-me was kind of a badass.
“You were notoriously hard to guard. A few ended up quitting in frustration.” He leaned toward me. “Underneath it all, you’re still the same girl,” he whispered, even though it was just the two of us in my room. “And in case you get any more ideas, you need your guards. You cannot—”
“Stop.” I didn’t need a lecture. “Eshrin and I already came to an agreement.”
He raised a brow as if asking me what that agreement was.
“It’s our agreement. You don’t need to know everything.”
He sat straight again. “Fine. I’ll ask him about it.” I was going to argue, but he continued talking. “Rysden.”
“Asshole.”
Lorne’s mouth dropped open with shock.
Damn it. I yanked my hands free and covered my mouth before anything else slipped out. “I didn’t mean to say that.” I dropped my hands into my lap. “Honestly. Please, don’t tell him I said that.” I wasn’t sure if it’d hurt him or just make him more of an asshole to me. Either way was bad.
“Okay. I won’t tell him, but why?”
I crossed my arms and looked away from him. I knew Lorne was really close to my father, but I wasn’t. “He always has a criticism. Nothing I do is good enough. He makes me feel like I’m this big disappointment, but how is any of this my fault? I didn’t ask to be left on Earth. I didn’t ask for my memory to be wiped. All I did was survive, and if I’m not good enough for him, then…” I was suddenly very exhausted.
Lorne was very quiet for a while, and I was about to get up, but then he spoke.
“Plarsha.”
I sighed. “We’re still playing?”
“For as long as I can get you to play.” He tapped my arms until I uncrossed them, and then he grabbed my hands again. “Plarsha.”
This was a hard one. She was kind of like an awesome aunt, but what word… “Thoughtful.”
