Page 37 of Imbalance
"It's me," Nico's voice responded, automatically making my heart constrict.
"What do you want?" I rasped out.
"Will you let me in so I can explain, face-to-face?" he inquired. I was quick to rebuff him.
"No."
I heard him sigh through the door, the sound filled with pain and resignation at my anger, before he continued on, still clearly not getting the picture that I didn't want to hash this out right now, "I was hurt, Ama. Did I handle it the right way? Not at all. I was aching with the need to know how you felt about me. That you felt this between us, and that you wanted it—not just because we were told that we were mates, and that was that."
He paused for a minute, and I waited for him to continue as I leaned my head against the door.
"I see the way you look at everyone besides me. I know I'm emotionally stunted and terrible at conveying my feelings. It's my fault we aren't further along in our relationship. But devildamn do I want you with every fiber of my being, Ama," he breathed out.
“You wanted to fuck someone else, dude,” I said, my tone filled with bitterness.
He defended himself, “But I didn’t! Plus, I didn’t want to fuck anyone…I just thought if I talked to someone else, that maybe it would help me forget about you and Finias upstairs. Forget about how fucking jealous I was.”
"What do you want, a fucking cookie for not taking it that far?" I scoffed at the first part of his statement, utterly baffled by how dense he was acting. I didn’t bother saying anything to the second part because it was clear he was jealous, and it didn’t excuse his behavior.
"No, of course not! But..." he trailed off.
"But what, Nico? I have a ball to get ready for, so this pleasant little conversation needs to be over."
"I'm sorry, Ama. Truly. I will spend the rest of my days in this life proving to you that I want you, and only you. And I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."
The rest of his days? Could I believe his words? I wasn’t positive I could, truth be told. Nico’s emotions were volatile and untrustworthy. What if I did forgive him and trust him again, but then we fought? Would he run off to another pub? No. I couldn’t trust Nico.
He hadn’t earned that.
I let silence stretch between us, not capable of forming any words to say back to that. There was simply nothing I could say right now that would make him feel better because I wasn't ready to forgive him.
He must have sensed that as he said, "I'll leave you to get ready. Thank you for listening to me."
I heard his feet retreat, and I leaned my back against the door, sliding down to sit on my ass and dropping my face into my hands, rubbing harshly. When I looked up, my eyes fell to the pale pink dress laid out for me to wear, and I sighed, knowing I needed to get ready.
The dress was beautiful, but it wasn't something I'd have chosen for myself. It was a strapless gown with chiffon that billowed out from the waist, ethereal and so girly it was painful… but I'd wear what they’d given me.
I really wasn't in the mood to be around a large group of total strangers, knowing I'd need all my energy to plaster on a fake smile and make nice to ensure we got the army we needed. Plus, the last time I’d been to a ball, it hadn’t exactly ended very well. As in, it had ended with an attempt on my life…so this had to be better, right?
Pushing myself to my feet, I walked to the cream-colored vanity that had a spread of makeup laid out for me. It was time to put on my war paint and prepare myself to get the resources we needed to save our kingdom. I wouldn't let my personal issues with Nico get in the way of that. It was all that mattered tonight.
Breathing deeply, I picked up a makeup brush and stared at the mirror. “You can do this, Ama,” I told myself in the reflection.
I could, and I would.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Drayven
What the fuck was I wearing?
How was this kingdom so out of touch with modern apparel? Glancing at the flowy, white long-sleeved shirt they’d given me, which was tucked into the black trousers, I wrinkled my nose in disgust. It was so medieval.
"I look like a buffoon," I mumbled under my breath as Ama's door clicked open. My attention snapped to her, and I had to stifle a laugh at the monstrosity of a dress they’d put her in. It was a puffy, pale pink dress that billowed around her in layers as it reached the floor. I mean, she still looked gorgeous, but it had nothing to do with the dress and everything to do with her.
"It's horrendous, right?" she asked, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth.
I was happy that the guys hadn’t fought me on escorting her to the ball. I think we all knew that she needed space from us, but one of us needed to be with her for security measures. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but it gave us peace of mind for her to have one of us as backup.
