Page 158 of Gift from the Source
What the hell, Willow?
A bark of laughter falls out of him before he quickly clears his throat. The sideways tilt of his head as he stares at me makes me want to facepalm myself. “It is nice out.”
I pinch my lips in a forced smile.
“Was there a reason you asked for this dance, Councilman Gale?” I ask quietly.
“Just Pran, Lady Vito.”
“Pran. And it’s just Willow.”
“It wasn’t just Willow when you tore into Gean Everglow.”
“That was different. He’s different,” I murmur, but I allow my disdain to bleed through. Hopefully, he catches it.
“You are different.”
He really is a man of very few words.
“From him? Yes, completely.”
“From everyone, it would seem.”
I sigh softly and remind myself to have some patience. It wasn’t very long ago in my life that I used this same mechanism to get a read and feel for people before I said what I wanted to. I’m doing it right back at him now.
He’s testing to see how safe or how much danger he is in with me.
“I’ve been told I’m much like my dad actually. Not to be rude, Pran, but I’ll ask again, was there a reason you asked for this dance?”
“Is there a reason you accepted it?”
“Yes,” I say honestly.
“That reason being?”
“You can be honest with him. It will serve you both better. His brother is watching,”CC says.
My first instinct is to want to look around me, but I refrain. I don’t want to make it obvious I’m looking for someone. Nor do I want to spook him or Dillon off since they’ve been so elusive all night. Elusive for years, actually.
Pran is an Empath like Aurora.
According to his file, it hasn’t been determined if he can influence others. I cast my gift out to get a sense of his and find that he’s using it now. It isn’t directed at me. It’s directed all around us. His isn’t the only one I’m sensing, though.
There is one being aimed right at us.
I don’t have to scan the crowd to know who’s responsible. The voices around us become nothing but muffles and the music barely penetrates my ears.
Dillon is a Silencer. He can manipulate sounds.
I blow out a steady breath and flex my fingers that are gripped gently in Pran’s hand. His eyes meet mine and the burning desire to know what it is I’m about to say blazes. This is the moment he decides whether to trust me.
“I’m Orien’s daughter. Born by a bond. It’s time,” I whisper.
The pain on his face is rough to witness, but it’s only there for a fleeting second. Then it morphs into disbelief.
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s not. I know everything. We do, my Nexus and I. We’ve been waiting for this night to speak with you.”
