Page 94 of Tempting Cargo
More damned care bloomed and stretched in my chest, my heart beating an insistent rhythm;protect, protect.Yet to do that was to tempt a cruel fate.
It was so fucking unfair.
Could I wait another week?
Shohari was always worrying about the future, about what came next, the opposite to me. Maybe it was time I started thinking about it.
I clenched my fists against the bed, rubbing the cool, soft texture of the sheet between my fingers. One, we won. We rescued her brother, we got away, we got a chance at happily ever after. At scary, beautiful, alien, forever love.
Damn.Was that the future I wanted? Was I really thinking in those terms?
Yes.
Focus.
Two, we lost. Shohari got married off to some dickhead, and what happened to me? Probably dead or in prison on an alien planet, neither of which was appealing.
Ihadto believe we’d win, had always believed we would. She was worth the risk.
So either I got the girl, or my life was so fucked that a broken heart would be the least of my problems.
Shohari shifted behind me, her arm tightening against my chest, pulling me closer.
She’d asked me to hang on. And I knew she was trying. I knew, really knew now why she was holding back. I wouldn’t pretend it wasn’t frustrating—or agonising—but she had to work through things in her own time, in her own way. In a week, we’d know.
I stroked her hand, and her fingers twitched beneath mine.
So it was this limbo, then. Except I was done with keeping my distance. She needed emotional support, and I wasn’t going to withhold it from her.
Weweregoing to win. But if we lost, I didn’t want her last days with me to be cold and unsupported, not when she was headed to Orith, the embodiment of that. I wanted her to know—tofeel—a warmth worth fighting for.
That was how we won; I knew it in every fibre of my being. Regardless, turning off my innate need to look after those I cared for was as painful as having her distant.
It was no choice at all. A few days couldn’t tip the balance of this soul bond, could they?
I turned my head, inhaling the comforting spiciness of her scent, and pressed a kiss to her arm.
Deep in sleep, Shohari gave a rumbling purr.
CHAPTER FORTY
Crown of the Void
Shohari
I WASN’T incontrol of my thoughts or emotions, and I hated it. I needed to be focused. I needed to stop changing from one to the other, from hot to cold, from desire to terror, from focus to... whatever this was. I couldn’t afford to lose control now.
The nebaru mantra I brought to mind didn’t help. Neither did my resulting growl.
With a sigh, I paced towards the training room, which was thankfully empty. I took a neutral stance and let out a long exhale.
The words came back to me as though I hadn’t stopped saying them for the last eight years, ingrained into my mind and soul as much as any child of Orith.
I started to sway, chanting the ritual words, both relieved and annoyed at the calm beginning to flow into my body, into my mind, into the room—buzzing, as though Kri themselves were here.
I was so deep in my meditation, I didn’t register the door had opened. As a presence touched my peripheral senses, I closed out the verse I was on and blinked my eyes open.
Of course it was Garrison.
