Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga #5)

“We aren’t so different, you and me.” Meg offered a half smile, reached down to grab his hand and helped him to his feet.

The tough-guy in Gideon refused to allow himself even a grimace, but he couldn’t stop his face from turning pale.

“Do you want me to help alleviate the pain?”

“How would you do that?” he looked skeptically down at her.

Meg just shrugged, “I guess it’s kinda like hypnosis. I would distract your thoughts from the pain.”

“What kind of distraction?”

Meg felt him lean in toward her. The heat pouring off his body made Meg feel flush. She didn’t know whether she wanted to lean in to him or step back, so her indecisiveness held her tense and still. His honey eyes searched her face then lingered at her lips as he waited for her response.

“I, um…” she stammered, “see there are brain-inhibitory pathways from the brain to the spinal cord. I would just access your emotions in your frontal lobe and…”

“Distract me?” his face was inches away from hers, his breath warm and sweet on her face. With her arm still wrapped around his waist steadying him, she was feeling very torn.

What am I doing? Do I let him? Do I want this? Is it fair? I can’t get involved with a metamonarch.

Then there’s that pull I felt for Creed—the one that tugged at my heart hard enough to pull me off the mountain side to find him. That means something. Creed means something to me. At least he did, she scowled inwardly, before I gave him back his ring and left the family to fend for themselves. Meg bit her lip hard enough to taste blood and stepped back away from Gideon’s advances.

“Just hold still for a moment.” Meg’s voice went from breathy and soft to clipped and all business.

She closed her eyes and reached up to place her hands on his forehead.

Reaching inside herself, she found her white iridescent blanket, and though she knew it would work on Gideon, something in her heart told her it wouldn’t be right to use with him. Creed’s blanket, she whispered in her mind and set it back in place.

She waved her imaginary hands and dreamed up a different cloth to use with Gideon. This blanket was deep red and felt warm and fuzzy under her visualized fingertips. She unfolded the large blanket and focused on the pulsing kaleidoscope signature in front of her. Gently she tossed her warm, red blanket over his pain filled aura, gathered the corners of the blanket around it and skillfully pulled the pain away from him. With a firm push and an ardent prayer, she sent the bundle into the imagined night sky.

Under her fingertips, she felt the muscles in his face relax almost as though he had fallen asleep.

“There,” she said, dropping her hands and stepping away from the metamonarch. “How do you feel?”

“Wow,” he said as he struggled to open his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Good,” she nodded. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“That was amazing.” Gideon hadn’t moved an inch. He just stood with a look of awe on his face. “What did you do?”

“I distracted your pain,” Meg shrugged and motioned for him to follow her out of the bathroom.

He walked like a man waking from a deep sleep to answer a knock at the door.

“Now that is some powerful gift, Meg.” His voice was gruff as if holding back a wave of emotions.

“I’m glad I could help,” she smiled and led the way out of her room. She couldn’t stand the look of admiration in his eyes. It made her feel even more like a fraud.

When this is all over, she promised herself, I’m going to try to reintegrate Gideon. He deserves to live a happy life as a singular personality. He never should have been shattered. No one should be.

Then Meg thought of the Senator who so carelessly used and discarded human beings. It made her feel a surge of anger demanding she run into his room and beat the crap out of him. She took a deep breath trying to calm down. She was only vaguely aware of Gideon’s eyes searching her stoic face as they walked the corridor.

She stopped abruptly when she sensed Gideon’s thoughts about getting her in his private quarters. “You’ll be able to make it the rest of the way on your own,” she said, not offering him an out.

“Sure,” he said. That sleepy, puppy-dog look defined his eyes. Meg nodded once and forced herself to ignore the urge to reach out and rub away the worry lines in his brow.

She smiled stiffly and turned to walk back to her room, leaving the metamonarch to watch the natural sway of her hips as she went.





Chapter 72 Uninvited Guests


Two hours later, a cleaned up Gideon was seated in one of the uncomfortable, ornate chairs in the newly remodeled foyer. He was fidgeting with the cuff on his sleeve when out of the corner of his eye he saw red.

Meg couldn’t help but giggle at the look on Gideon’s face. His jaw went slack and his honey yellow eyes were as wide as saucers taking in her image.

“Wow!”

“Wow?”

“You look—wow!”

“You have quite a way with words,” Meg laughed.

She moved to sit beside Gideon while they waited for the Senator and Michelle.

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