Off Balance Page 9

  “Lorne.”

  “Love.” Holy shit! What the hell?

  What the hell!

  Lorne’s skin flared so bright, and I could see his fao’ana on his arms where he’d pushed up his sleeves. There was no pretending he hadn’t heard what I’d said.

  I was in so much trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  AMIHANNA

  I yanked my hands free from Lorne’s grip and covered my face.

  I couldn’t believe I actually said that I loved him. I must’ve been more tired than I’d thought if that slipped free. “I didn’t mean it. This is so embarrassing. I know I don’t really know you, and I just have this stupid crush on you. Could you please forget—”

  “No. No. Absolutely not forgetting anything you just said!” He knocked into me, and my back hit the floor. His strong hands gripped my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. His grin was back full force, and my heart did this idiotic fluttering.

  “It’s not a stupid crush,” Lorne said. “It’s love. You’re in love with me.” He rolled back to sit, pulling him with me. “I feel so much better now.”

  “Speak for yourself.” I wrenched my arms free. He was happy now, and I was miserable. “And if I said Amihanna, what would you say?”

  “Love because I’m in love with you, too.”

  My skin turned bright with that, and I felt like I’d just leaped off the tallest building. It was terrifying and amazing and I didn’t have time to think about it because he kept talking.

  “Attraction because…” His eyes ran down my body, and I struggled to keep from squirming. “Balance because that’s what we are for each other. I could keep going, but I think I’ve already made you extremely uncomfortable.”

  Not uncomfortable, but confused. I poked at the carpet while I tried to understand what he’d said. He loved me? He was attracted to me?

  And then his last word hit me, and I looked up at him. He was still smiling. Not the least bit ashamed or embarrassed by what he’d said. “Balanced is the last thing I feel when you’re around. There’s this push-pull I feel around you, and it makes me feel completely off balance.”

  “That’s because you’re fighting against being with me. You’re pushing me away while being my shalshasa is pulling you to me. I can understand why you’re confused.”

  “But you still haven’t told me what shalshasa means.”

  “I know. I was trying to get you to admit how you truly felt about me under all that pushing you’re doing.”

  I looked into his eyes, and I didn’t see any judgment. I knew he didn’t think I should be embarrassed, but I was. And more than that, I was overwhelmed and needed answers. “Now, you know how I feel, so what does it mean?”

  “Shalshasa literally translates to mirror soul, but that’s not exactly what it is.” He nodded his head slowly as he chose his words. “I guess the basics of it come down to our own personal frequencies. Each person has multiple frequencies—some that are steady and constant. Others that change with mood. Still others that change with life. These all add up to something we call our soul song. Sometimes people’s soul songs just flow together. Sometimes it’s only a little bit. Sometimes it’s a lot.”

  Soul songs? That was a beautiful concept, but it really just boiled down to one thing. “You’re talking about natural compatibly?”

  “Yes. Exactly. The Aunare feel it more concretely than any other beings we’ve come into contact with. Like when you met Roan, what did you feel?”

  God. That was forever ago, but I still remembered that first time I saw him. “I talked to him for a few minutes, and I just knew he was going to be my friend. I felt this click, and I knew…I just knew I could trust him.”

  “A click. That’s a good word for it. That’s the feel an Aunare gets when their soul songs align.”

  “I had it with Declan, too. I knew I could trust him, but that didn’t turn out so well.” He was annoying me now, and my feelings about him were a little mixed.

  Lorne frowned for a second. “You can trust Declan for the most part. Just know that his mission is always more important than anything else to him. Than anyone else. But you’re very sensitive to frequencies, which means you can get a quicker feel for someone’s soul song and evaluate if you can trust them quickly.”

  That was true. I usually had a gut reaction to people that was usually pretty accurate. “How does that relate to you and me?”

  “It’s complex. Layered—I guess—would be better.” He groaned and rubbed a hand across his forehead, and his skin brightened a couple shades. “I’m sorry. I’ve never had to explain this before, and I want to get it right. I don’t know if I am and it’s so important for you to understand and—”

  I touched his leg. “You’re doing fine. Just breathe.”

  He took another breath, and his slow nodding started again. “Okay. I’m backing up. Let’s talk about you and Roan again because that feels safer.”

  “For sure.” But it was nice to know that he thought this was as intense as I did.

  “I bet if we tested your soul song against Roan’s, it would be at least seventy-five percent compatible. That doesn’t mean that you agree on everything. That would be boring. You’re two very different people, but the dynamic of the two of you together makes both of you happy. Like how he’s energetic and easily sees the fun in things, and that was probably something that you needed when you were scared on Earth. And then sometimes I see the two of you just goofing off together. I know you’re not telepathic, but it comes off as if you are.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. That’s accurate.”

  “That’s because your soul songs resonate with each other. You might not be aware of it, but you’re reading him. He’s reading you. He’s balancing your mood, and you’re doing the same for him.”

  And somehow, I was following him. “Okay. Yeah. That’s Roan and me for sure. I think I’m starting to understand.”

  He took a breath and reached for my hand. “We have extremely complimentary soul songs—way more compatible than you and Roan. But we also have compatible fao’ana. You have a special and very dangerous ability, and I have one, too. With our soul songs, those abilities can be balanced and harmonized. Which means we’re safer—not just us, but everyone around us is safer—when we’re together. That’s why you feel safe with me and why I feel more settled or stable with you. And if that wasn’t enough, the fao’ana on my back has symbols for you all mixed up in it. So, they call us shalshasa. Because our souls make music together. Because we’re stronger, better at our life’s calling when we’re together. And because our destiny is entwined so deeply that we can’t properly thrive without each other. Our souls aren’t the same. We’re not two halves. We’re just extremely compatible.”

  “Okaaaaaaay.” I ran my hands down my face, but that wasn’t helping me understand anything. My brain was actually hurting as it tried to process what he’d said.

  I had so many questions. A lot of practical ones like what my dangerous fao’ana was, but there was only one question that I really, really wanted to ask.

  “What is it?” Lorne asked.

  I shook my head, unable to look at him. “It’s almost too embarrassing to ask.”

  “You’re my shalshasa. You once yelled at me that there were no secrets between us, and I wish it was still the same. So, go ahead. I don’t mind, and you don’t need to be embarrassed. Ask me anything.”

  “Did you really say that you’re in love with me?”

  “I thought I made that part pretty clear.”

  I smacked his leg, and he laughed, swatting my hand away.

  “I have way more than a crush on you. I’ve loved you for forever, but before…it wasn’t in a romantic way. We were kids, and I knew that I’d spend my life with you. But I thought that we’d marry other people. The betrothal contract was kept in place because you weren’t here, but I dated. I never found anyone that I really felt a connection to. I thought that was just a fault with me. But th
en you jumped on my ship, and it was like my life had been a puzzle that I’d never quite figured out. There was always some piece or step that I’d been missing. And in that one moment, everything went click-click-click and realigned. I’d solved the puzzle. The answer was you.” He took a breath. “I know you don’t remember me. I know I don’t know you as well as I want to. But I know that I love you. The rest, we’ll figure out. Okay?”

  No. No. Not okay. “This is a bad idea. Being with me is terrible for you.” He started to say something, but I popped up from the floor and walked to the muted vidscreen. “Look at them.” I motioned to it. “All of them agree that I’m not fit to be queen. How can being in love matter when that’s at stake?”

  He got up slowly, and I felt like I was prey being stalked. “You can be queen, or I’ll rule and you’ll marry me as my wife, but I barely got through the last thirteen years without you, and I will not go back to that life. If you don’t love me and you don’t want to marry me, I’ll find some way to put aside my feelings. But don’t say no just because of my job.”

  “But even your father said—” I closed my mouth. Damn it. Why did I always end up saying more than I meant to with him?

  “Good. We’ve circled back to it. Finally. What did he say?” Lorne’s voice was deep and dark, and he kept his slow, steady steps toward me.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I stepped back.

  “Yes, it does. Clearly, it matters a lot.” He stepped closer. “What did he say?”

  “It—”

  “Don’t say it doesn’t matter!” He closed the distance between us and grabbed my arms. “Especially when it clearly matters to you. Especially when it hurt you. Tell me. Now.”

  “Fine.” I jerked away from him. I sat in one of the chairs in front of the vidscreens and stared at the floor. “After he propositioned me—”

  “What!” He rested his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned close to me. “He did what?”

  I met his gaze for an instant and regretted it. His fao’ana flashed, and I knew he was only going to get angrier when I told him the rest. I stared at the floor again, trying to figure out how to get out of telling him the rest.

  “Amihanna. Please.” He gently touched my chin and raised it so that I was looking at him again. “Just say it.”

  “Fine. He said that I’ve caused too many problems for the Aunare. That I could never be allowed to rule. That I wasn’t worth the cost of war, not worthy of you, and then you cut in.” I leaned back in the chair to get some room between us and hugged my knees to my chest. “You stopped him before he said that he was going to break the contract, but I knew that’s what was coming next. And then he threw my old name in my face, and reminded me that I was a poor, barely-getting-by diner waitress in his mind.” I motioned toward the vidscreen. “They seem to agree.”

  Lorne said a few sharp words, and the vidscreen turned off. He paced away from me and stopped. Even if his skin wasn’t bright and his fao’ana weren’t flashing, I would’ve known he was barely holding on to his anger by the way he was hunched just a little bit and had crossed his arms.

  I needed to defuse this somehow. “They’re right about—”

  “They’re not right about anything, and I get to be mad when something pisses me off. Although mad doesn’t begin to cover it.” He spun toward me. “Let’s get this one thing straight—I’m not breaking our betrothal contract.” He stalked back to me. “Not now. Not ever. If you want to break it, then we’ll discuss it. They’ve talked a lot about our contract on the news, so I’m sure you have it in your head that I’m planning on breaking it. But I’m not. I haven’t brought it up because you’ve been dealing with enough. I was giving you time, but I’d marry you tomorrow if I thought you’d agree.”

  Tomorrow? I had zero clue before this moment that he was completely insane. He couldn’t marry me, especially not tomorrow. I couldn’t be queen.

  “What if I want to break our betrothal?” I wasn’t sure I did, but I wasn’t sure I didn’t either.

  He strode quickly to me, knelt in front of my chair. I hugged my legs tighter to my chest, but he grabbed my ankles. “Look at me.”

  I looked everywhere but him.

  “Look at me, please.” He squeezed my ankles. “Please.”

  I blew out a breath and rested my chin on my knees so that I could meet his gaze. It was hard to really look at him. Every time I did, I wanted him more and more, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could want him without becoming completely addicted. It took everything in me not to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me.

  He let go of one ankle and cupped my cheek. “Do you want to marry me?” He was using his low voice, the one that set my skin on fire.

  My skin was so bright and my stomach fluttered and flipped and I forced myself to choke down my first immediate response. The dumb one that wanted to slide past my lips effortlessly. I couldn’t answer his question because I didn’t trust myself to give him the right answer. The one that made sense.

  All signs of anger melted away from him. His back straightened, he held his head high, his fao’ana stopped flashing, and his skin dimmed a little.

  But it was his smile that told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.

  “This is where being your shalshasa comes into play. I’m as sensitive to frequencies as you are, but even more attuned to yours. I can feel your frequencies as your moods shift. Your immediate answer was going to be yes before you got scared.” He rose just a little, cupping my face with both his hands, and all I could see were his aquamarine eyes.

  The color I associated with calm and safety. The color I’d painted the walls in my room on Earth so that I could feel more at home. The color I wanted to get lost in forever.

  He brushed a soft kiss on my lips. It was quick, too quick, and it left me wanting more.

  “Until you can say no—honestly and without stress—I’m going to assume your answer is yes, and that you just need more time. I don’t want fear to be a part of your decision. Okay.”

  He leaned in for another kiss, and I wanted it more than anything. But I made myself lean back in the chair, pulling my face from his hands.

  “I can’t do this.” The words were shaky, but I’d said them. I had to stop it before this went too far.

  “Why?”

  “Because…” There were too many reasons.

  Because he needed a queen.

  Because I didn’t want that much responsibility.

  “Because you deserve someone not broken.” That wasn’t the one I meant to go with, but words slipping out of me seemed to be the theme for our little chat.

  “You’re not broken. If anything, you’re confused. Which is totally understandable. You’ve been through a very rough thirteen years, and memories that would help you readjust to being home aren’t there. So, you need some time to heal. Which is what I’ve been giving you. I think you’d feel less fragile if you got a decent night’s sleep. If you ate more. If you took a moment to take care of yourself instead of spending twenty hours a day in the gym. Declan and his mission are going to kill you.”

  I shoved at him, and he moved to let me out of the chair. I strode across the room. I needed space.

  “If you let me sleep in your room, you’d actually sleep,” Lorne said from right behind me.

  I spun to look at him. “Come on. That’s a cheap ploy if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “It’s true.” He held up his hands as if he weren’t trying to feed me a line. “Roan could sleep in here, too. His frequencies might be compatible enough to even yours out. But tell me you don’t feel better when I’m around.”

  I couldn’t say that. There was something about him that soothed me, which was mostly why I felt like I couldn’t be around him. “You’d be a crutch.”

  He raised a brow. “Explain.”

  “If I used you to sleep, when would that ever stop? I’d need you in my bed every night.” I laughed at the look he gave me. It was a grin and a
nod and a raised brow that together said he’d be absolutely fine with that plan.

  “I need to be okay on my own. If I can’t be solid and whole by myself, then I can’t be a partner or a help to anyone. And I don’t know if I want to be queen. I don’t know—”

  “I just need you as you are now. I think you’d make a good queen—a great queen—but I won’t force it on you. It’s a lot of responsibility.” He started to reach for me but stopped himself. “But I understand your point. You’re so wrong, but I understand. If you get really tired and just want to sleep, come find me. My frequencies will help you sleep. Okay? You know where my room is, right?”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Suddenly exhausted, I walked to my bed and sat. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

  He came close to me. His lips whispered against mine in a there-and-gone touch. Our noses brushed, and all I could see were his aquamarine eyes. “Liar.” He tugged gently on the end of my ponytail as he stood. “Stubborn woman. I’ll see you in a couple hours when I come to wake you from your nightmare.”

  He left before I could think again.

  Shit.

  I wasn’t having a nightmare tonight, and he wasn’t getting into my rooms again. I walked to the panel and double-checked the do-not-disturb. It never seemed to stop him, but I had to try.

  Then I headed to the shower. I took them barely warmed. I figured maybe if my skin was cooled, then the memories of Abaddon and my skin burning would be far from my mind when I hit the sheets. And maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to sleep without waking to the scent of sulfur. Without the sound of my skin crackling as it burned. Without the phantom pains of nanos ripping me apart from the inside.

  It never worked, but I had to try.

  I had to try.

  Chapter Eight

  LORNE

  For the week that Amihanna had been in a coma, I’d had all kinds of dreams. Childish ones. I thought that as soon as Amihanna was home and healthy, everything would be okay. I didn’t care about her nightmares. I didn’t care what my father or anyone else said about our betrothal contract. I didn’t care about anything other than that she was back. Home. Safe. But over the last three weeks, I watched her fade a little more every day, and no matter what I did, it didn’t stop.