Sons of Destiny 6 -The Storm by Jean Johnson

Author:Jean Johnson [Johnson, Jean]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-07T07:08:36+00:00

ELEVEN

Staring at her for a long, carefully non-thoughtful moment, Rydan picked up his fork and started eating again. Rora stayed quiet, bracing her palms on the edge of the bench while he ate, her gaze alternating between him and the scenes he had carved. Now that she had told him what she Saw . . . he could feel it. He could feel her emotions, the source that irritated the beast under his skin.

Rydan had to admit she was right. What he felt from her was no different than what he had felt from the others all this time; the only thing that had changed was his awareness of it. Like an unidentified noise in the distance, it had long irritated him without him being able to pinpoint the source of the sound.

But now that he knew, it felt like his beast was saying, Ah—curiosity. That’s the dripping of water from an improperly corked tap. Or her next and more elusive emotion, which took him a few moments to track down, since it only flickered into existence when she glanced his way. Is that . . . admiration? Like wind in the trees, the faint rustling of leaves? She admires me?

No, that wasn’t quite it. Frowning, Rydan tried to pinpoint it, but failed. It frustrated him.

“What are you thinking?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“You’re thinking something, and it’s not making you happy,” Rora told him. “I can See it wrapping down around you—that’s what I’m going to do, at first, I think. Point out whenever your own emotions are affecting you adversely, because I can See it happening. So what were you thinking, just now?”

Setting down his fork, Rydan rubbed at his forehead. “I was wondering what you were thinking. When you look at me, my beast . . . this thing inside of me that makes me sensitive to feelings, I call it my beast,” he explained at her silent confusion. “It feels whatever you’re feeling, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, other than . . .”

“Other than?” Rora prompted when he fell silent, his aura darkening slightly in disgruntlement. “You’re puzzled by it. What do you think it is?”

“Admiration. Though you have nothing to admire in me,” he added gruffly, cutting into the last bit of beef on his plate. “I don’t even know why you’re trying to help me . . . unless you think it’s that damned Prophecy.”

“Temper,” Rora cautioned him. “Keep your mind calm. And I’m helping you because not only can I See the problem, I cannot bear to see anyone wounded so literally by their feelings. As for any Prophecy . . . I do not deny that Morganen told me about your verse.”

Rydan snorted. “Meddler. He should stick to his own affairs.”

“Matchmaking is his affair, or so this Prophecy claims. Personally, I feel sorry for him,” Rora added in an aside.

“Sorry for him?” he demanded, scowling at her. The pointed arch of one of her light brown brows reminded him to curb his temper.

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