Chapter 24 #2
Her voice spikes louder than she intends. Ashen lifts his head with a low growl, eyes flashing as he checks the crib. My daughter sighs again, undisturbed.
“Golden threads?” Solena repeats, her voice tight with urgency. “Are you certain?”
I nod slowly. “They’re strongest when we...” I don’t finish, but the way my jaw locks says enough.
She nods once, understanding passing silently between us.
“Those are Binds of Fate,” she says, her voice wrapped in reverence. “They’re the threads of destiny that connect soul-bound mates, Amara.”
“Mates?” The tiny hairs along my arms prickle. “That word is for the Fae only. Why would I see something like that?”
Solena’s gaze flicks to the rune inked at the base of my neck.
“You may be human, but Fae magic courses through you, rivers of it, pulsing beneath your skin. That word is yours now, and if you’re truly searching for why you feel the way you do, why you’re drawn to Daedalus like the moon pulls the tide, then the Binds of Fate explain everything.
You two were matched. Meant for each other long before you ever met. ”
A scoff slips from my lips. “That can’t possibly be true. How does that make sense? How can something as powerful as love leave you so helpless?”
Solena’s eyes narrow slightly, as if I’ve missed something painfully obvious. “You say that like it’s a flaw. Love, true love, is powerlessness. That’s the point, Amara.”
I hate how the words settle. How they fit like puzzle pieces I didn’t even realize I’d been fumbling with.
How, suddenly, everything makes sense. The gravity between us.
The ache when he’s not near. The madness when he is.
It’s ridiculous, absurd, even, to believe that before I ever laid eyes on him, some ancient force had already etched our story into the stars, or stone, or any other mystical artifact.
And yet… I feel a strange relief. A little less unhinged. As if the chaos inside me has been given a name, a reason. Permission to love him with no logic. To want him past sense, past reason, past self.
To need him in that breathless, tangled way that leaves me feeling more whole than I ever have in my life.
“Do you think Daed knows?” I ask softly.
Solena nods without hesitation. “If you see the threads, then he must too. I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything.”
Her eyes drift to my neck again, but not to the rune this time.
“Or,” she adds, tone sharpening, “why he hasn’t bitten you.”
My brow shoots up. “Come again?”
A ghost of a smirk curls Solena’s lip as she parts them, and I spy her canines, just slightly longer now.
“It’s a remnant of the old ways,” she says.
“A primal trait, a mark of the Vornahl still buried in our blood. When we find our mate, we bite. Not out of cruelty, but instinct. It marks them. Claims them. The taste of their blood, the imprint of our teeth, it links us. Strengthens the threads. Affirms the bond. And it has… benefits.”
“Benefits?” I echo.
“Your mate can track you. Sense you more clearly. Feel your distress across great distances and others, especially other Fae, will know. No one touches what’s already claimed without consequences.”
The words sink into me slowly, heavy and disorienting. “Daed never told me any of this.”
My eyes flick to Solena’s neck, and I lean slightly, curiosity catching hold. “Do you have one? The bite. Does it hurt?”
In a swift motion, she pulls her hair over her shoulder, concealing the place I’d looked. Her expression hardens.
“Orios hasn’t bitten me.”
“Why not?” I ask, the idea striking me as almost laughable. If any two people embodied the Binds of Fate, it was Solena and Orios.
But then I see the hard swallow in her throat, the way her eyes drop to the floor, the faint tremble in her shoulders.
“Orios is not my mate,” she says quietly.
Well, now I’m confused. How does that make sense? She speaks again before I can voice it.
“He is my love. My heart. I would spend today, tomorrow, and every day after with him. I’d be his wife if he asked. I’d bear his children, if we were so lucky.” Her voice catches. “But there are no threads that tie us. No binds carved by fate. We are in love, but not mated.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She waves away my awkward apology. “You didn’t know. It’s fine.”
But the ache in her voice says it isn’t.
A question rises unbidden. “What happens if… someday… you do meet your mate? What then?”
Solena lifts her chin, noble and proud as ever, and offers a smile, not bright, not full of joy, but steady. Resigned.
“I would hope our love would be enough to keep us to each other,” she says.
But the words ring hollow. Her voice quivers at the edges. And when she finishes speaking, her lower lip trembles, betraying everything her pride tries to conceal.
I start to answer, to offer the comfort she so often gives me, but I don’t get the chance.
The door crashes open.
Wind howls through the room, catching in my daughter’s dark curls. Her face scrunches, her mouth opens, and a startled cry bursts from her throat.
Ashen is on his feet in a blink, a snarl erupting from his chest. His teeth flash, his eyes blaze white-hot, and his body shudders as it grows, larger, broader, a shadow-forged beast trembling with barely leashed fury. The bed groans under his sudden weight.
Zyphoro stands in the doorway, unbothered, her brows arched in mild annoyance. “Alright, I’m sorry,” she says dryly, shoulders rising in a theatrical shrug. She steps inside and closes the door with exaggerated care, making a show of how softly it clicks shut. “Happy now?”
Ashen growls, a low sound that vibrates the floor. His lips curl back, glistening canines bared. Then, with a great exhale, he turns his head toward the crib. He lowers his massive snout and gently nudges my daughter’s brow.
Solena instinctively moves forward, but I reach out, placing a hand on her arm to stop her.
With each soft, smoky touch of Ashen’s nose, my daughter’s cries ease. Her sobs grow quiet, until finally, she exhales a soft, shuddering breath and falls asleep once more.
Ashen lingers a moment longer, watching her.
Then his form begins to shift, his smoke-drenched bulk curling inward, shrinking, softening.
Within seconds, the monstrous guardian is gone, replaced by a tiny kitten, all fluff and soot, already curling into a ball beside her and purring as he dozes off.
Zyphoro clicks her tongue. “That pet of yours needs to learn his place.”
I glance at the crib, then back at her. “I think he knows exactly where his place is. At my daughter’s side.”
Zyphoro considers this, then grins. “Hmm. You might be right. He’ll serve her well.”
I arch a brow, my voice dry as I address the unspoken question. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Zyphoro slumps lazily against the closed door, arms crossed. “I was wondering where you’d gone, is all. The males are drinking and singing, badly, I might add, and I’m bored to tears with their endless chatter about swordplay and muscle. So…” She shrugs. “I’ve come to collect you.”
I shake my head. “I’m not in the mood for drinking or banter,” I say. “Besides… my baby.”
Zyphoro gestures lazily toward the crib. “Your baby sleeps soundly with a void-born demon curled at her side. She’s safer than any of us.”
Solena catches my gaze and offers a gentle smile. “The weather is fair,” she murmurs. “The stars are bright, and the water carries us smooth and steady. Perhaps tonight is a good night to speak with your husband.”
Her knuckles graze mine, warm and grounding. That subtle, steady touch eases something tight in my chest.
“Perhaps it is,” I say with a slow smile.
“Speak to him about what?” Zyphoro cuts in. “Whatever it is, I hope it improves his mood. He’s been more insufferable than usual these past few days.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” I reply.
Zyphoro grabs the door handle and twists it open with a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank the stars. One more day of this tension and I might combust.”
Her gaze slides to Solena, a teasing smile tugs at her lips.
“If only there were... other ways to burn it off.”
Solena saunters to the door as Zyphoro swings it open, her hand braced above the frame. She ducks beneath Zyphoro’s arm.
“We’re surrounded by ocean,” Solena says coolly. “Maybe a cold dip is in order?”
She slips past Zyphoro like a breeze. But from the way Zyphoro licks her lips, amused and undeterred, it feels less like rejection and more like the opening move of a game.
I glance at her, one brow raised. “Do I want to know what that was about?”
Zyphoro sighs dramatically. “Dearest sister, such details would curl your toes and corrupt that sweet little innocence of yours.” She motions grandly. “After you.”
I cast one last look at my daughter. She sleeps peacefully, one chubby hand curled beside her cheek. Ashen lifts his head, eyes half-lidded but watchful. Our gazes meet, and in that silent exchange, I feel it. The vow unspoken but unbreakable. While I’m gone, she is his to protect.
I cross the cabin, pass Zyphoro, and step out into the night.
Just as Solena promised, the weather is perfect. The ink-dark sky is scattered with stars, endless and glittering. Salt wind sweeps across the deck, and the waves crash gently against the hull, steering us onward toward the Sundered Kingdoms.
And then I hear it, Souls, the singing. Horrendous and heartfelt.
Up ahead, lantern light spills across the huddle of males. Their cups slosh with rum, their laughter spilling louder than their melody. The golden glow of the lamps casts halos around them, softening the edges of hardened faces.
As I near, Daed lifts his head.
His storm-colored eyes find me, and whatever smile he wore falters, replaced by something quieter. Something reverent. I watch them unfold, the Binds of Fate, golden and luminous, unfurling from his skin like ribbons caught on the wind.
And they drift toward me.
Drawn to me.
As if I were the way home.