Chapter 58
Sin’s Point of View
Rule fifty-eight: Show, don’t tell.
As expected, Morgana’s castle is deserted. Everyone is back in the Otherworld, preparing for the war. The privacy is exactly what we need.
Vivian’s hand trembles against mine as she looks around our room, no doubt noticing that her things have been moved here.
I refuse to acknowledge the way my cock twitches at the sight of her being back where she belongs.
More tears spill down her face, and she lowers her gaze to try to hide them. It makes my chest pinch.
All I want to do is hold her and explain, but I can’t.
Her mind is made up. I saw it in her thoughts.
Nothing I can say will make this better.
“Sit,” I order, pointing to the bed.
Those haunting blue eyes jump up to search mine, even as she obeys. My heart skips a beat, the same way it always does when she looks at me.
I don’t last thirty seconds before I’m sitting beside her, once again taking her hand. Her touch is the only thing that soothes my burning need to level this universe to ashes, until all that’s left is us.
Her hand is small in mine, delicate. But there’s no doubt in my mind that my kitten is a fucking pocket nuke.
My eyes drag to her wrist, and a small knot in my stomach unfurls. The creepy bracelet that thought it had a right to be inside her is gone.
Good.
I should get her another one to replace it.
A pair of handcuffs could work. Then I can keep her tied to me. If she complains, I could distract her with orgasms.
No, fuck, can’t do that, not after that fucking asshole leashed her.
I’ll put a pin in that and come back to it later.
I look back at my beautiful, deadly little mate. “I want to show you something, but I’ll need to get into your head again to do it.”
It comes out as a warning, not a question, but I wait for her permission, regardless. Every time I’ve been tempted to cross that line with her, to take the answers that are so tantalizingly close, I can’t do it. Too many have violated her mind, and I swore to myself I would never do the same.
She takes a shuddering inhale and whispers, “I trust you.”
A growl forms in my throat, and I grind my teeth to hold it in.
Trusts me? A minute ago, she thought I was going to fucking kill her.
My mate is out of her ever-loving mind.
But that’s just fine. I’m still keeping her.
Her eyes close, and I take a breath, ready to show her everything.
Fuck, I hope she doesn’t hate me too much after this.
Four Years Prior
If Damien doesn’t stop using his face to block my sword, I’m going to make him run laps until sundown. At this rate, he’ll be dead long before he ever infiltrates the elite guards.
I need to talk to Morgana about her recruits.
Once again, my wooden blade connects with his jaw. “Keep your guard up!”
But the kid doesn’t hear me. He stares, wide-eyed at something over my shoulder.
Instantly, my power rises to the surface, ready to protect him as I turn to meet the threat. Instead, I find a familiar spirit, waving her arms at me in a panic.
Tension coils through my muscles. I know why she’s here.
“The prophesied one?” I confirm, discarding the wooden blade.
She frantically nods.
“Go, I’ll follow.” My power flares, betraying my calm tone. It hasn’t even been two decades since Clotho’s message came, alerting us that the girl was reborn. The mortal can’t be much older than a child. The thought that she’s already in danger leaves me seething.
The spirit’s energy signature leads me to a dark forest, somewhere in the Mortal Realm. A cold rain is starting, and I pause, trying to get my bearings.
There’s a muttering in the distance, and I stay silent as I follow it. Morgana made it clear that we can’t interfere unless the mortal’s life is in danger.
My steps are measured, until I smell it – blood. The scent sends acid burning through my veins, and I rush forward, forgetting to be quiet.
A branch snaps under my boot, just as I reach a small clearing. Shock stops me in my tracks.
She’s mostly hidden on the other side of the tree, but I’ve seen enough cruelty to know what was done to the mortal. A growl rips through my chest as I take in the blood and rain running down her body.
The mortal freezes.
Fuck – no interference, I remind myself, until I remember how delicate mortals are. She’s going to die out here if I don’t help her.
A muffled scream pierces the air, sending another rush of fear flooding through me. I’m behind her in an instant, looking for the threat. But before I can save her, the mortal falls to the ground.
How the fuck did she get free?
She’s scrambling out of her bindings, and I catch the awkward angle of her thumb.
Sonofabitch.
Guilt stabs at me. I should have moved faster; she didn’t need to suffer more. But as I watch her force herself up and scramble into the forest, I can’t help but feel a touch of pride.
This mortal is a fighter.
Accepting she isn’t in immediate need of my help, I start searching for any trace of who did this to her. But the rain has already erased any lingering smells.
Finding nothing, I apparate to the nearest town and spot an older couple entering their vehicle. It takes no effort to enter their minds, making them drive in circles around the forest.
They won’t stop until they find her.
The mortal might be strong, but that doesn’t mean she needs to do this alone.
I find her a few moments later, standing at the edge of the forest. She’s staring at a tree and just… thanked it?
A laugh bubbles up in my chest, but I suppress it.
I’m sure she’s just hallucinating.
She’s probably perfectly sane.
Three Years Prior
I’m going to go crazy if the mortal doesn’t DO something.
It’s been a year – a fucking year – and she hasn’t left her Fates-damned room.
Not that I have a right to complain. I shouldn’t even be here.
At first, my visits made sense. The mortal should have seen a healer after her attack. When she didn’t, I stayed to ensure her injuries healed properly.
But now, those wounds have healed into scars. Her arms are covered in them, and even though I haven’t seen them, I’m sure there are more on the rest of her body.
I should have left her alone months ago.
And yet, here I am, leaning against her wall, peeking at what she’s watching today.
It’s another true crime documentary. She likes those.
I should leave. But there’s a calm that washes over me when she’s in my sight.
I’ve spent months rationalizing my behavior. Ultimately, the little mortal is our best chance to get to Need. That’s why I’m so invested in her safety.
She’s a means to an end – nothing more.
“I knew it!” She exclaims when the documentary reveals the killer’s identity.
A smile forms on my lips, and my shoulders relax.
One more episode. I’ll stay for one more episode.
Five Weeks Prior
The little mortal needs a fucking keeper.
Unfortunately, she’s stuck with me.
Not that she knows it, of course.
Morgana is growing increasingly concerned about the amount of time I spend watching over the mortal. Whenever I explain that the prophesied one is a death magnet, my Keeper gives me a wary look and reminds me that the mortal is fated to Leon.
Every time she says it, I want to grind my teeth to a pulp.
Like I could fucking forget.
The mortal’s laugh draws my attention back to the present. She’s at the beach with her friends, and it fills me with warmth to see her with people again.
Sometimes, she speaks to thin air. At first, I was worried for her sanity, but over time, I’ve accepted she’s just talking to herself. It’s almost endearing.
A boy carries over some surfboards, and I bite back my laughter. This should be interesting. My little mortal is not coordinated.
Fuck! THE little mortal. Not mine – never mine.
My eyes trace the soft curves of her body, accentuated by her wetsuit.
It isn’t difficult to see why Leon became infatuated with her. She’s so fucking stunning, I think even sirens would be jealous. But this mortal isn’t Cassandra.
Will Leon appreciate who she is now?
Will he lie awake at night, thinking about how her ocean-blue eyes light up whenever she opens a new book, or how she bites her lip while she studies?
Will he see how fucking far she’s come, how hard she’s fought to be okay?
Bile rises in my throat as I picture them together.
Fated – they’re fucking fated.
She’s going to love him.
But what if she doesn’t?
From what I’ve seen, she isn’t interested in men or women. She might read a lot of sex, but she doesn’t like to be touched. I don’t let myself continue down that trail of thought.
She’s in the water now, laughing at the loud boy.
His eyes have been lingering over her for longer these days. I’m itching to turn his thoughts, but the mortal is doing a good job of handling him.
She doesn’t need my help.
Last night, when she almost drowned in a cave? She definitely needed it.
Most nights, I apparate back to the Shadow Realm. The little mortal becomes temptation incarnate when she gets all hot and bothered from reading. But yesterday, she filled her car with gas, and I was too curious to leave.
Thank the fucking Fates I stayed.
I’m sure the Mortal Realm scientists are going to be confused when they notice the tides slowed. I bought her the time she needed to find her way out of the caves. I’m not leaving her fucking side again. I’ll stay and pass the crucible if it means keeping her safe.
The fog presses in, and I pull on my power, just enough to see her. These waves are too big for a beginner. Where the fuck are her friends?
But the little mortal doesn’t seem concerned. She paddles out even farther, and anxiety twists in my chest.
Without hesitating, I jump into her friend’s thoughts and whisper concerns over safety. I’ve just dissipated enough fog for Sarah to see her, when there’s a flash of red hair and my little mortal disappears under a wave.