Chapter 10 Caelan #2
I open my eyes, blinking spots out of my vision right in time to see her move. She uncurls from her tight ball and stretches, rolling onto her back.
She exhales, a soft sigh I feel through my whole body.
I gravitate toward her. There’s no other way to explain it. One second I’m sitting there, forearms resting on my knees. The next, I’m leaning forward and hovering over her. Reaching for her, like I have any right to touch her at all.
Like I’ve already decided she’s mine.
Haven’t I, though?
She is mine.
Logic tells me there’s no way to know if someone’s your Fated Mate just by proximity. I’m well aware that there has to be something that causes the Bond snap into place.
Scent is usually the first indicator, simply because it’s most accessible. Of course, for vampires and wolven, it’s impossible to have a species-specific Fated Bond with someone who isn’t your Scent Match to begin with.
Blood Mates and Moon Mates are never guaranteed, even if we do find our Scent Match. It’s rare to be blessed with the second, species-specific Bond. Beyond rare.
Still, I’ve heard stories of vampires who, for one strange reason or another, somehow get a taste of their Blood Mate’s blood prior to meeting them.
So scent isn’t always the first indicator of a Bond, it’s just the easiest to find.
I know all of this, but none of what I know seems to matter. Because against all odds—against everything I’ve ever been taught—I know this Omega belongs to me.
And I belong to her.
I should be ecstatic at the realization. I should feel nothing but joy. This should be the single most momentous discovery of my life.
It should be, but it’s not.
Because without knowing what Bonds us, I’m left with a thousand questions and no answers. Worse—I have no fucking proof.
Fates, it’s obvious now. I don’t know how I didn’t see it. The swirling, silver pool in my chest is a Mate Bond. I just don’t know what kind, let alone what caused it to appear in the first place.
And I have no way to research it. Because it shouldn’t exist.
I need information. Proof. I need answers I don’t fucking have and don’t know how to get.
Gods know Daxen won’t accept “because my instincts say so.” He’ll demand proof before considering that a female he’s suspicious of is actually my Fated Mate.
Fates, he’s already leading a charge against her. Already convinced I’m either compromised, cursed, hormone-poisoned, or stupid.
Possibly all four.
As desperate as I am to take her out of this house, doing so before I can prove what she is to me will end terribly for all of us. Dax will convince everyone that she somehow got to me—manipulated me, or cursed me with magic she doesn’t have and probably doesn’t even exist.
The fact that Dax doesn’t believe in magic won’t matter. He’ll double down, then triple down. And once my brother gets momentum, nothing can fucking stop him.
The worst part is, he’ll do it because he’ll genuinely believe he’s protecting Vae and me. He won’t do it to be a dick or to prove a point, but because the asshole loves us more than anything else in the universe. There’s nothing he won’t do, and no one he won’t destroy, to keep us safe.
Even if it means saving us from ourselves.
I punch my thigh, disgusted by my options. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s best for her. I don’t know how to keep her safe.
She’s mine, Fatesdamnit. She’s mine and she’s living in a nightmare and her father is dangerous.
But my packmate might be even more dangerous.
Unless I can get some fucking answers. I just need some time. Just a little bit of time.
A soft whimper from Idril’s sleeping form yanks me out of my spiral. My gaze drops to her, but my vision’s blurry. I have to blink twice before I realize tears are obscuring my vision.
Tears, for Fate’s sake. I haven’t cried in centuries. I never imagined I’d cry when I found my Mate. I certainly never thought that if I did, they’d be tears of frustration and helplessness.
I swallow around the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. Like Idril can feel my pain, she frowns, whimpering in distress. I lean closer, curling my hands into fists so I don’t reach out and pull her into my arms.
Fates…she’s so stunning. Hauntingly perfect in her beauty. I’ve replayed the memory of seeing her a few nights hundreds of times, but it’s nothing compared to being near her like this.
She turns her head and her hair falls to the side, giving me a perfect view of her face.
My heart kicks.
Just like that, I’m instantly, achingly hard.
The faint light filtering through the window makes her look kissed by stars and shadow both. Her skin glows in a way that doesn’t seem real. It’s strangely luminescent, the kiss of moonlight enhancing the effect.
Long lashes create shadows across high cheekbones. Long white hair fans across the dark mattress, eerily reminiscent of liquid silver.
Dangerous, yet I wouldn’t hesitate to wrap the silver strands around my fist and willingly burn.
I swallow my growl, afraid of waking her. I’m toeing the line of feral, and I know it. I’m a hair trigger away from snapping.
But gods, even asleep she doesn’t look like she belongs in this world.
Maybe she’s not from this world. Maybe she’s a goddess, made to be worshiped.
I know I don’t deserve to be here, staring at her without her knowledge or consent, dying to touch her. But the world could be burning, and I wouldn’t notice until I saw the flames reflected in her eyes.
She’s the only thing I see. The only thing that matters.
Her breath hitches again. Her lashes flutter.
I know I should move. Leave. Do something.
I don’t. My body won’t obey. The silver pool in my chest stills, like it’s holding its breath in anticipation. As if it knows something I don’t.
Her eyes open.
And my world fractures.
Everything tilts and spins and splinters apart, and all I can see… is blue.
Blue eyes, so impossibly bright I forget how to breathe. Her eyes lock on mine with an intensity that feels like Fate. She should be terrified. Screaming, crying out, crawling away, anything except looking at me like—
Like she knows me.
Recognition flares in those startlingly blue irises, blooming across her face like a watercolor.
Where there should be fear, there is only relief. Like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. Like she’s pleased to find me here.
And strangely, that same joy and relief extends between us to wash over me. With it comes an undeniable certainty that I’m meant to be here. On this night. In this house. With this Omega.
Everything I’ve done or experienced over the centuries pales in comparison to the importance of this moment.
Every heartache, every joyful moment, every mission, every injury, every relationship—it all flashes before my eyes like threads of a tapestry.
Each moment woven with delicate precision into a map I didn’t know I was following.
One that always led me to her.
Destiny.
The knowledge burrows into my soul and etches itself into the marrow of my bones. The silver pool in my chest swirls happily.
Idril blinks. The world beyond her sharpens back into focus. It’s jarring compared to the moment we just shared.
With hesitant movements, she pushes herself up. I lean back to give her space, despite every atom of my being rebelling against the new distance between us.
She tucks her legs under her and turns until she’s facing me. I wait silently, content to let her take the lead. It still feels like we’re in our own little bubble and I’m afraid that if I speak, I’ll break the spell completely.
Idril tilts her head to the side. Her long white hair spills over her shoulder in tumbling waves. She studies me openly for long moments. I let her. Her lips part and I hold my breath, equally terrified and excited to hear her voice.
“You,” she breaths, frowning in confusion. “I felt you. Didn’t I?”
She looks so lost, like she’s not sure if this is real life or a dream.
And Fates help me, I don’t know either.
I remember what she said to her cat that night on the balcony—how she felt like someone was outside watching her. I nod, affirming her suspicions.
Her nose scrunches, and her teeth dig into her lower lip. Without thinking, I reach out, intending to save the abused flesh.
Her eyes follow the movement. I give her plenty of time to away, but to my relief, she doesn’t.
The tips of my fingers gently brush across her cheek before gliding down toward her mouth. I press my thumb under her lower lip and tug gently.
The moment my skin touches hers, my nervous system goes haywire.
My hair stands on end, my hands, which have only just stopped shaking, start trembling again.
Something coils tight under my sternum and fills my chest with warmth so intense I have to fight not to audibly gasp.
The silver pool.
It’s not just warm and swirling anymore. It’s alive. Insistent. Pulling, stretching, reaching out—to her.
She draws in a sharp breath, and those wide blue eyes find mine in the dark.
“Oh.”
One word. A single syllable that’s more of an exhale.
And it shatters me.
Gods, the way she looks up at me—like I’m the answer to a question she’s been asking her entire life—hits me right in the sternum, where the silver pool grows deeper and churns faster.
“What’s your name?” Her voice is soft, but she looks at me with so much expectation that I don’t hesitate to answer.
“Caelan.”
I keep my hand on her cheek, waiting, hoping she won’t pull away.
She doesn’t. She… smiles.
My entire fucking world lights up. The pool churns faster, swirling and singing and digging deeper like it’s stretching to make room in my soul for her.
Yes. That’s right. That space in my soul has always been meant for her.
The pool is a chaotic tempest, a mirror of my own emotions.
Mine.
This isn’t how Mate Bonds work, I know that. I know all about blood and biology and scent, and this matches none of it.