by C. L. Wilson
Before he could protest further, she went to her room and shut the door. Her hot tears quickly cooled on her cheeks, erased by the chill air. She swallowed back a sob and told herself she wouldn't cry. Dammit. She was failing.
She stumbled in the darkness to the bathroom. She fumbled in the drawer next to the sink and found a flashlight. She switched it on and aimed it toward the sink then turned on the water full blast. She would not let Roan see her cry. And she wouldn't let him hear her cry either.
She grabbed a soapy cloth and cleaned herself off, removing all traces of Roan's scent and their lovemaking from her body. All the while, the tears flowed unbidden. Trying to stop them proved futile. Maybe she could purge them—and him—from her system by letting loose.
By the time she'd dressed, tied her hair into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and applied some mascara and lip gloss, she felt almost normal. At least she had the waterworks under control.
But the pain in her chest remained, making breathing difficult. She struggled to take even, measured sips of air. She would get through this. She needed to get hold of herself. She barely knew Roan. How could she have such intense feelings for him already?
He didn't even belong to her world. There was no way he could ever belong to her.
When she returned to the living room, Roan was waiting for her. He'd dressed and, by the looks of his freshly scrubbed faced and the smell of soap clinging to him, she suspected he'd taken advantage of the guest bath to freshen up during her absence.
He had removed the blankets from the windows in the living room and had been staring out into the storm. But he turned at her entrance, his forehead crinkled, his gaze questioning.
She spoke first. “I'll get you a sandwich and some fruit. There are some grapes that should still be good. I hope the power comes back on tonight or the food in the fridge is going to be ruined.”
She tossed the casual conversation at him on her way to the kitchen, hoping he didn't hear the catch in her voice.
###
Roan watched Mona disappear into the kitchen, a myriad of emotions running through him. He felt her energetic withdrawal as keenly as he did her physical retreat. She wore her sadness around her like a cloak of steel, but he saw through it.
His chest ached at being the cause of that sadness. Roan stared at his hands. Give him a battle to fight, someone to protect, a cause to champion. He'd know what to do. But when it came to females, especially human females, he had no clue how to proceed.He knew he should go. Now. Leaving himself as much time as possible to locate the trackers' craft before daylight. And the longer he remained with Mona, the more likely other Anunnaki soldiers would come looking for their missing comrades. Which would no doubt lead the trackers back to him. And Mona. Anxiety curled in his gut, waiting, watching, like a snake ready to strike. He needed to go.
His chest constricted at the thought of leaving Mona behind. His mind flittered over their earlier conversation. About others of her kind on Earth. He hadn't missed the hope that had sparked in her eyes. This was a woman who had clearly felt alone for a very long time. He understood that feeling. His devotion to his cause had earned him few friends and a life spent in hiding. Roan wished, more than anything, that he could guarantee Mona would never feel alone again.
He should go. But instead, his mind continued to retrace their brief time together, and his chest grew more constricted as that time grew closer to an end.
Mona. Her ability to weave song was unlike any other talents inherited by certain humans that the Anunnaki would want to destroy. There would be no respite for Mona were she to be identified. The very audacity of a human having one of the most coveted abilities on Nibiru would send Commander Enyir and his kind into a rage. The commander wouldn't abide it. The existence of humans with psychic and empathic and healing ability was considered a threat to the Anunnaki. Those powers alone were cause for those who followed the commander's regime to target and monitor and eventually destroy humans. But a song weaver . . .
No. He couldn't leave her. I won't. The decision made, Roan released a sigh. This time his chest tightened with excitement over their future together. Yes, it would be difficult, keeping her safe on Nibiru, but it could be done. He'd make sure of it. And Mona would be around others like herself. Others who understood her and appreciated her and her unique beauty. It was the perfect solution.
He found Mona in the kitchen, busily piling food onto a plate while simultaneously gulping a glass of the amber alcoholic beverage she'd shared with him the night before. Had it really been less than forty-eight hours since they'd met? It seemed to Roan, he'd always known Mona.
She lifted the cup to him when he entered. “Want some?”
He shook his head. “I do not favor the spirits as much as you.”
Her eyes narrowed and she let out a chuckle. “Actually, I'm not much of a drinker at all.”
His brows rose, but he knew better than to argue the point. “Why do you drink now?”
Her spine straightened. Her answer was to take another drink and then let out a sputtering cough as the liquid hit her throat.
He moved to her side and placed a hand on her back, patting her softly. “Are you alright?”
She gathered herself and slanted a glance up at him. Her eyes glistened, but she blinked the tears away. “I'm fine.”
But her voice lilted and broke and he knew she was lying.
“Mona . . .”
She raised her hand to ward off whatever words she thought he was about to say. “It's no big deal. Let's not do the sad goodbye thing okay? Just eat something and then go.”
“Mona,” he tried again.
She stepped away from him and pushed the plate of food along the counter top. “Here. Eat.”
She turned her back to him and busied herself rearranging a bowl of fruit on the counter. Silence ensued. Roan watched her, his heart thudding in his chest as the moments ticked by. Mona's shoulders sagged and he could swear he heard a sniffle.
That was it.
He circled around the island, leaned forward, and placed a hand over each of hers. Her soft fingers twitched beneath his and he could feel the slight tremors of her body, shaking just a little. Her head was bent, her face hidden behind the ebony curtain of her hair.
“I don't want to,” he murmured.
She cleared her throat but didn't look up. “Fine. Don't eat then. I'll give it to Cash.” Her voice was soft, riddled with reluctant resignation.
“Mona, look at me,” he commanded. She let out a shuddering sigh and lifted her eyes to meet his. Tears ran tracks down her fair cheeks. Her chin quivered as though she barely held herself in check.
“I don't want to leave you,” he told her.
She blinked, but didn't respond.
“I want you to come with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mona's heart thumped hard against her chest as she struggled to make sense of Roan's words.
“To Nibiru?”
Roan nodded. “You're not safe here.”
Her brow furrowed. “I thought the folks on Nibiru wanted me and my kind dead.”
“The commander and his followers do not represent the entire populace of Nibiru. There are many who want Earth and the humans to be left in peace. If you came with me, you would be safe in the city of Antonis. You'd be much safer there than you are here. You would be well cared for under my protection.”
“Those soldiers, the ones that tried to kill me, I take it you think others will come whether you're here or not?”
A pained look came across his handsome features. “Unfortunately, it's only a matter of time before you're discovered. I can't leave you here to that fate. Come with me.”
Was that it then? His crusade to protect humans, his duty prompted him to take her with him? On the one hand, safety and not having to handle giant aliens appearing out of nowhere to crush her throat again was an attractive option. But the thought that Roan's duty was what prompted this request stung.
She shook the thought from her head. “My brother is here. And his family. I can't just leave them. I mean, would I even get to see them again? Ever?”
“I don't know. Eventually, I believe you'd be able to visit Earth again, but that would hinge upon the ability to bring you here undetected. But I would try to make that happen for you. This I can promise.”
“Thanks for the offer, but, I'm making strides here, you know? I'm building a career as a singer-songwriter.” She didn't mention that said career was going nowhere fast due to her paranormal energy-reading prowess.
As if reading her thoughts, he said: “On Nibiru, you would be among those whose ability to sense energy is the same as your own. You would not be as affected by their energetic imprint as you are by that of humans.” He touched her cheek, and smiled. “You'd be revered for your talents as a weaver of song. Thousands would come from far and wide to experience your talents.”
She frowned. That had a promising ring to it.
“Can Cash come with us?”
The dog, hearing his name, perked up from his spot on a blanket in the corner, and let out a playful bark.
“Of course,” Roan answered.
“You have dogs on Nibiru?”
Roan grinned. “Who would want to live on a planet without dogs?”
Mona couldn't agree more.
He watched her expectantly, his ice-blue eyes filled with the promise of a new and better life for her. She wanted that promise. She wanted nothing more than to know she'd get to see Roan everyday for the rest of her life. She sighed.
“No,” she said.
His head jerked back, his surprise evident. “No?” he repeated.
“I won't go with you. Thanks for the offer.”
She swallowed and slowly slid her hands from his, then scooted around the island and made a beeline for the master bedroom. She really needed to retreat from him right then. She desperately needed to get herself together out from under Roan's all-too-seeing gaze.
She wanted to go. But, his offer thrilled her and scared her all at once. She was afraid. No getting around it. As much as she'd longed for change in her current life situation, this was a lot of change to ask of someone. Leaving her family, her home, her way of being, and even her planet? Her throat constricted as she tried to swallow. There was change and then there was—holy crap—change.
But Roan hadn't finished with her. He was fast on her heels, stopping her by clasping one of her wrists between his fingers and forcing her to spin around and face him.
“No is not acceptable,” he ground out, eyes darkened to cerulean.
She tilted her chin in defiance. “Acceptable to you or not, it's my decision and it's final.”
“You're coming with me,” Roan commanded. His voice was a deep growl.
Her face heated. “Maybe you're used to telling people what to do and having them jump to obey, but here's some news for you, Mister. You don't get to decide my fate for me. I decide.” She made to pull her hand from his, but he held fast.
“Give me my hand back,” she insisted between gritted teeth, anger spiralling through her gut, sharp and biting.
“I can't,” he answered with wrinkled brow and hardened jaw.
“Why the hell not?” She flipped her head back and glared at him. She was not afraid of him in the least. Just pissed. She wished that, instead of just ascertaining auras, her superpowers included something along the lines of shooting bolts of lightning out of her eyes a la Superman.
This time, it was Roan who didn't respond. He just stared at her, his gaze unnerving in its intensity, his forehead crinkled as the gears turned inside his head.
“Why do you care?” Mona prompted, no longer struggling to get away from him. What was the point? Clearly, he wasn't going to let go. Not that his touch was hurting her. His hand circled her wrist with a surprisingly gentle firmness.
When he finally spoke, the words that fell from his lips knocked the air from Mona's lungs and all of her anger along with it.
“Because I'm falling in love with you.”
Blue eyes danced with brown; blue seeking, probing, brown widening in recognition. Suddenly, the room was quiet. So quiet. Just the familiar sound of firewood crackling amidst flames in the stove.
Before Mona's scrambled brain had the chance to actually register this admission and respond coherently, a loud knock sounded at the front door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mona's breath caught. “More soldiers?”
Roan shook his head. “They wouldn't knock. Were you expecting company?”
“No. I can't imagine who would be out in this storm.”
Another thump, thump, thump on the door, this time louder, resounded throughout the small cabin.
“I need to answer that,” Mona said.
Roan released her hand. “I'll go with you.”
Mona crossed to the front door, heart pounding wildly, both from Roan's declaration and from the potential threat at her front door. When she reached the door and peered out the peephole to see Tom Austin standing on her porch bundled up like an Eskimo, she released a sigh of relief.
“Thank goodness. It's just Tom,” she said, yanking open the door. She ignored Roan's concerned look. Tom was not someone to fear.
A harsh, frigid wind blasted her and swirls of snow rushed in. She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. “Tom, get in here.” She motioned Tom forward and he hurried inside.
Tom stomped his booted feet on the interior door mat. He pulled the hood of his parka back from his ruddy face and glanced from Mona to Roan and back to Mona. If he was shocked to see the unfamiliar giant standing in her cabin, he didn't let on. Then again, Tom was known for being incredibly polite and Mona doubted he'd ever even think of prying into her personal life.
“I'm happy to see you're okay,” Tom said.
“You came to check on me?” She glanced out the window behind him. Sheets of white gusted past the glass accompanied by an angry howling wind. “In that mess?”
Tom nodded. “Garret called me. He hasn't been able to reach you by phone. I assumed the power might be out and told him so, but that didn't seem to make him feel much better. He said he'd been trying to call you since before the storm set in. He was all up in a twist over you being alone out here with no way to reach anyone if you needed help.”
Mona groaned, remembering her brother's promise to call her when he made it home. She glanced over at the end table near the couch where she usually left her cell phone. Nothing there but an empty charging cord pointing at her like an accusation.
Cell phone coverage was spotty in the mountains so she'd purposely taken it with her when she went shopping the day Garrett left, knowing that he intended to call her and figuring that if she timed it right, he'd be calling her while she was shopping. She could always get reception down near Tom's store.
“I left my cell phone in the car.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes. “He's such a worrier. I'm so sorry, Tom, this is my fault.”
Tom waved her apology away. “It's nothing. He didn't even know I was going to come up here. It was my wife who insisted. You know how she is. Still thinks of you and Garrett as kids.” He rolled his eyes a little, but his smile was filled with affection.
Tom glanced back at Roan then, studying the other man. “Looks like Garrett need not have worried. You had some help weathering the storm.”
Mona started. “Oh, how rude of me. Tom this is Roan, my . . . friend. Roan, this is Tom, an old family friend. Tom's like family, really.”
Tom reached his hand out to shake Roan's. Roan glanced at the outstretched hand with confusion before finally clasping the smaller man's hand in his own. Apparently, Nibiruans didn't shake hands.
“Pleasure,” Tom said.
&
nbsp; “Indeed,” Roan answered. The two men stared at each other, sizing one another up. Mona could only imagine what the situation looked like to Tom, who was truly old-fashioned when it came to relationships and life in general. Not to mention that Roan's appearance was certainly striking in and of itself, enough to set a person to wondering.
But true to form, Tom didn't ask any questions. He turned his attention back to Mona. “How's that potato bread?”
Mona smiled. “It was wonderful. As usual.” Awkward silence ensued. Mona cleared her throat. “How in the world did you make it up here, anyway? I thought the roads would be pretty bad by now.”
Tom motioned toward the driveway where his snowmobile sat.
Mona's brows rose. “A snowmobile? I didn't think that was your style.”
Tom shrugged. “It's not. My son-in-law bought it for me. I don't use it often, but it seemed just the ticket on a day like today.”
Tom took a step backward. “Well, since you seem just fine, I suppose I can head back home. I'll call Garrett and let him know he's got nothing to worry about. Weather report says the storm's going to die down by tomorrow. So there's that.”
“There's that,” Mona agreed. Then, an idea popped into her head. One that dug in and wouldn't let go. One that confirmed she'd made her decision. Likely the most important decision of her life.
“Wait, Tom, can you hold on a minute?” she asked.
Tom paused. “'Course.”
“I'll be right back.” She tugged at Roan's arm and pulled him toward the kitchen. He followed her with a quizzical look.
Once they were out of sight and earshot of Tom, she grabbed Roan's large, cool hands in her own. She took a deep breath.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About loving me?”
Roan's gaze warmed. “Lies don't fall from my lips.”
“Can you promise I'll be safe, on Nibiru?”
“I can promise I'll do everything in my power to make it so. But you'll be safer with me than you will be here. I can promise you that.”
She bit her lip, thinking about his words.