Page 166 of The Stolen Throne
“Are you two…?” I don’t even know what I’m asking.
She gives a hiss of frustration. “You don’t know him at all if you’d ask that.”
“I was going to say friends.”
“Sure you were.”
There’s no point in arguing when she gets this way, so I roll to my back.
After a second, she huffs. “Yes. We’re friends. He needed help when he first came to us.”
So I’ve figured out.
“His body wasn’t healing because he was fighting those demons inside him.”
Demons. Good goddess, she thinks he’s filled with demons? Only, she’s not far from the truth. The difference is the source, really.
“Have you never wondered what kind of Imperium I am?”
I have to sit up at that, crossing my legs to face her. “You’re an empath, right? I asked Cain once, but he said that any more information was for you to share, and we haven’t exactly been friendly.”
“True.” She thinks for a moment. “Cain inherited a version of his mother’s power over water. Our father married his first heartmate for her power, you know. Water is needed in the desert.”
“I wondered. The zariph is very devoted to your mother, though.”
“I…” She actually smiles. “I am my father’s daughter.”
Is she talking about inheriting her father’s Enfernae ability? Every Imperium, Enfernae and Hylorae, have a specific nuance to their power. Maybe she’s some kind of truth-sensing empath? Is that why she’s hated me all this time? I know what she said about my taking her place in Cain’s heart, but could she sense something in me worthy of hatred? “What exactly can you do?”
“I’m an emotional empath.”
My eyes go wide. I can’t help it. Even if it gives Pella a bit of an advantage. And it does. I know it when she smiles again. Pella isn’t a smiler unless she thinks she has the upper hand.
My spine goes ramrod straight. “Have you ever used this on me?”
“No.” And she’s sad about that, based on her tone of voice. “I have to touch for it to work. And really, I’m better at projecting emotions than sensing them.”
I blow out a breath and don’t care that she sees. Pella and I may be in a better place than we were, but the thought of her doing anything with my emotions makes me want to curl up and hide from her.
“So what did you do to help Reven?” I ask slowly.
“I helped calm the demons inside him to sleep so he could rest.” She grimaces. “One at a time as they surfaced, so it took a lot of time and patience.”
Knowing Mr. Self-Sacrifice, he would have hated having to take that help, especially if patience was involved.
“There’s a lot of anger in there, Meren. Malice. Fury.” She bends a look on me. “And a driven kind of purpose. Like an obsession, though my ability can’t show me why.”
She lets out a long breath, shifting on her pallet to tuck her knees up, like she’s feeling his emotions all over again. “He was in bad shape when you were with the king. Not because he wasn’t healed but because you were in danger. But when you went to seek the burning lands… He lost it.”
And now I’m about to leave him again to go somewhere dangerous. I’m going to make him suffer. Guilt piles up like rocks in my gut. I hate that even more than I hate him hiding his struggles from me. He has enough without me adding to his burden. I fiddle with the linen sheet that serves as a blanket here.
“I don’t have to touch you to see that hurts you,” she says with so much more compassion than I used to think she was capable of.
“Was it hard for you? Learning your power?”
Her pause, followed by a simple nod, tells me a lot.
“I’m sorry.” I mean it. I know what it’s like to have an important aspect of your life forced on you, and Pella…emotions aren’t her strong suit. I imagine having to deal with others’ is even worse. Maybe her bitchy side was all in reaction to what she was dealing with.
