Page 31 of Roar Letter Word

Mahes held onto her the entire night, watching her longing bloom with excitement, then slowly fade into the contemplative lamentation. Something was missing, and she knew what it might be.

FOURTEEN

MAHES

Mahes’s heart shimmered like a lantern, kaleidoscopic and spinning and native to the planet. Addie looked like a goddess, her skin and dress an incandescent light that glowed like the shades of twilight. He watched her smiling, cherry-wine lips, the cascade of joy feeding in a loop of infinity from the stage and straight into the boundless atmosphere of her soul. But as the precepts of semi-dark descended into black, the great king felt the tone and vibrations change.

Her mood altered, all while continuing to celebrate and bob around to the music. When the concert was over, his driver took them back, their fingers intertwined in the back seat. They sat in silence the entire time, with Addie gazing out the window, a sorrowful musing washing over her aura.

Mahes was beyond disappointed. The entire meaning of planning out a concert was to give her a splendid reminder of Earth, but that reminder had the opposite effect. She was miserable and rather despondent. It broke his heart to see her like that, peering out the window as blankets of stars soared by.

He wasn’t going to push it under the rug, as that would only lead to even more mystery down the road. It terrified him to think of what her reply might be, but there was no point in speculating. If the truth was going to hurt, he’d rather get it over with. Let the knife sink right into his heart rather than in his back.

They had gone into his bedroom, where they had made love countless times already. He quickly flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, which happened to be the same spinning lantern he’d metaphorically compared his heart to while observing the concert by the seaside.

“Did you enjoy that?”

Addie stood by the window and started to undress. She seemed distracted, her mind drifting further and further away out into the ocean of his paradise.

“It was wonderful, Mahes, really. It was so sweet of you to plan all of that for me.”

She didn’t turn when she spoke. Her voice had an even, toneless lilt to it. She pushed the straps of her dress off from her shoulders, revealing a plentiful spill of freckles scattered over her skin. He liked to imagine counting each and every one with his tongue. But they had to talk first. Everything was on the line.

Mahes squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from being entranced by her physical beauty. When he spoke, his voice was a tiny murmur, sounding like the brooding of a cat rather than a mighty lion.

“Then why do you feel so far away from me?”

Addie finally turned from the window, which silhouetted her frame like a masterful photograph. The glow from the spinning lantern splashed upon her body, the dress still draped around her breasts.

“Far away?” she reiterated.

Mahes nodded. Her voice was fragile, almost childlike. He stood still, not wanting to influence her reply.

Addie sighed, ruminating over the question as she turned back to the window. It was difficult not to feel destroyed by someone so stunning. She was a dreamer, an artist … that had all really been her first love. And there he was, trying to steal it from her.

Her passion and independent streak made him yearn for her even more acutely.

“I do appreciate what you did, Mahes. I really do. That’s a genuine feeling. I know that you were trying to make me feel at home. But I’m afraid it reminded me how much I don’t feel like myself here.”

Mahes felt the cool, anticipatory prick of a knife sliding between his ribs. He backed up onto the bed, mindlessly unbuttoning his shirt. He wanted her to talk. So he remained silent, the stage of their conversation entirely hers.

Addie turned back to him, hugging the dress to her while her tiny feet poked out from the bottom of it. She, too, waited in silence for a moment, pondering her words.

Humans, as Mahes learned, had a nasty habit of forecasting another being's emotional reaction. He saw her doing that in her head, projecting her own reel of tape and editing herself in relation to what response would suit her best. He could relate in other ways, but shifters did a fair amount of communicating without many words being exchanged.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.

“I wanted to come here because I liked the idea of being able to date someone who related to my loneliness. The whole fame and celebrity thing. I thought maybe that we were equal in that way in relation to you being king. But I saw tonight that it didn’t line up. I'm nobody here.”

Mahes scowled and grumbled with an intensity that Addie hadn’t anticipated. It made the floor below their feet reverberate like a train was passing. He had to rein himself in if he didn’t want to scare her off before they could come to an agreeable end of the conversation.

“Sorry,” he said, his face falling into his hands, rubbing hard, then emerging again. “But I don’t feel like you’re a nobody, Addie. You’re everything to me. And I mean that literally. The sun, the moon, and stars, the valleys and mountains, the desert sand, the forest soil. Everything.”

She gave him a crooked smile. It would have made his heart swim with glee in the past.

“It’s not the same thing, Mahes. Being everything to one single person isn’t like having thousands of people sing along to songs you’ve written by a flicker of a candle the night your heart was torn to pieces.”

The knife sank deeper. He looked away from her. She was far too striking, standing there nearly naked, about to reach inside his chest and mutilate his heart right in front of him. He spoke, trying to keep his voice from cracking, but failed.

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