The duffel on his shoulder slid to the floor with a thump as he let Loren tow him into the living room. She brought him to the couch, let go of his hand, and pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit.
Loren sank to the carpet before him, and Darien spread his knees far enough apart for her to sit at his feet without the risk of bumping into the coffee table at her back. She took both of his hands into her own, lacing her fingers with his, and closed her eyes.
When she felt Darien’s fingers tighten slightly around her own, she knew he’d put two and two together regarding what she was trying to do.
“Loren.” His voice was gruff. “Sweetheart…”
“Don’t laugh at me for trying,” Loren pleaded, keeping her eyes closed. “Just…let me try.” She paused, nerves curling in the pit of her stomach. “Close your eyes please.”
She peeked at him for just a moment, only long enough to see that he’d done as she’d requested. There was such vulnerability on his handsome face, the sight of it so raw that Loren had the sense that she was witnessing something incredibly intimate. A secret he guarded with his life, ever since he was a child told by his abusive father that strong was all a man should be.
Loren began to feel shy as Darien waited for her to do whatever it was that she thought would help him. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure, and as the seconds ticked by, she began to feel like a fool. She was human and possessed no magical powers, least of all aura healing. Despite what Calanthe seemed to think, Loren knew they were all mistaken. And if no real Aura Healers had been able to help Darien, there was no way she would make a difference.
But…she’d made it this far. And she wanted so badly to help him that she tried. Gods help her, she tried.
She focused every good and happy thought, every positive emotion in her body on him, envisioning them flowing from her heart and into his like a river of color, filling in the cracks and hollows in his soul, making him a little more whole than he was before. She pictured color and light driving out the darkness, stitching together the damaged and murky bits of his psyche until all those old wounds were healed over, never to reopen again.
“I want you to picture a river,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “The waters of the river are crystal clear, and the sun refracts off the surface like a prism. The different colors are all so beautiful, they take your breath away. I want you to follow the river—follow it right down to where it bleeds into the ocean. I’ll follow it with you. The ocean goes on as far as the eye can see, and it is every shade of blue you can dream up. There is no sound except the ocean waves. There is no one around but us. It is calm. It is relaxing. It is…peaceful.” She swallowed. “Itispeace.”
She might’ve been imagining it, but she swore there was a soft heat spreading through her chest, like she was clutching a hot water bottle to her body. Not wanting to break the illusion that she was actually doing something to help Darien, she didn’t open her eyes, focusing only on the image in her mind, willing for the camera in her thoughts to expand, encompassing Darien’s and bringing them both into the same imaginary space.
As Loren watched the foamy ocean waves in her mind, the feeling of Darien’s fingers lightly squeezing hers coaxed her back to reality. It wasn’t until she’d opened her eyes that she realized her lashes were damp.
Darien gently extracted his left hand from hers and tilted her chin up, so she was looking at him.
His eyes were no longer black.
The Surge was gone.
Hadshedone that? Was she stupid for even thinking she had?
Those eyes tightened a little. “How did you—” He paused, and he used his thumb to gently wipe away a tear that slipped down her cheek. “Loren…” He opened his mouth to say something else—
But the front door suddenly opened, and Jack, Ivyana, and Travis returned from outside, where they had been drinking by the firepit. They were laughing drunkenly, their arms slung across each other’s shoulders.
Darien only spared his family half a glance as they headed straight for the fridge before his focus returned to Loren. “You look exhausted,” he said, his thumb brushing across her chin. Her breath caught in her lungs as that thumb swept over her lips, the contact causing her skin to tingle. His hand was rough and warm and inviting, and everywhere he touched, there was heat. A deep, rosy heat, and she didn’t want him to stop. But he said gently, “Go on and get some rest.”
When he released her face, a golden warmth lingered there. She instantly missed it, and she found that she had to close her own fingers into fists to keep from reaching for him.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
It took him a moment to answer. “I’m okay,” he said. “For now.” Seeing the question in her eyes, he added, “I’m not leaving anymore. Not tonight.” He took her hands into his, though only long enough to pull her to her feet with him. And he increased the volume of his voice as he said to his family with the hint of a smile, “But Iamgoing to get the hell away from these chickens and their loud clucking.”
Clucking was exactly what they started doing, and Jack even went so far as to flap his arms as if they were wings.
Darien rolled his eyes. “How’d I get so lucky?” he muttered, shaking his head. When he said it, he was looking at Loren, not in search of an answer, but as if he’d meant to say that she was a large part of the reason he felt lucky.
Loren yawned. She was suddenly so exhausted that she had no room in her body for more emotions.
“Don’t make me carry you,” Darien threatened mildly.
She waved him away. “Alright, I’m going. Big, bad Devil.”
When she made it to the bottom of the staircase, she turned around to see that he hadn’t moved, but was watching her with a kind of tender affection she’d never seen on his face before.
33
“I can’t believe you just blew two hundred gold mynet on face jellies,” Darien said.
