Page 81 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

Sullha let out a breath, and the tightness in her chest that had started with Margaret and Bowen's revelations eased.

He hadn't known. All those weeks he had visited her in the enclosure, sat beside her in the garden, planned the escape, toldher he loved her, he had done it without knowing that she could become an immortal like him.

"So, now you know," she said.

"Now I know."

She didn't have to spell out for him what that meant.

He'd always known that she wasn't a regular human female, and now, thanks to Bowen's explanation, he also knew what it took to awaken the dormant genes within her.

Now she knew it too, also thanks to Bowen and his mate, and the knowledge sat between them on the couch like an exposed electrical wire.

There was no polite way to think about it while they were sitting so close, the fingers of their hands intertwined, and there was no way to politely steer the conversation to where he revealed whether he wanted that.

He'd never tried to touch her beyond her hands, and the only kiss they had shared she had initiated, while he'd stood frozen and hadn't reacted. Hadn't even wrapped his arms around her.

Was he even capable of the act?

She was not brave enough to ask that question.

Thankfully, she had plenty of other ones that mattered almost as much.

"Lady Areana said that a truelove bond is rare, and it is a blessing from the Fates that even gods don't dare to question. She said that after Mirumah asked her how she could choose Navuh, so I assume she considers him her truelove mate. To me, having someone like him as a mate seems more of a curse thana blessing if it can hold a goddess captive. I thought that Lady Areana was giving too much credence to what must be a myth. Do you know anything about that? Is a truelove bond real?"

Yaaf nodded. "Bowen explained it too." He leaned back, and his arm moved from the backrest onto her shoulders, enormous and heavy, and she leaned into it because she could. Because she trusted him. Because it felt right. "We also challenged him when he told us about the truelove bond, but he swore by it. It sounds like a myth, but then living goddesses still walking the Earth also sound like a myth, but they are as real as you and me."

She looked up and arched a brow. "Are we real? Because this feels like a dream to me."

"It does," he admitted. "A strange, lovely dream that I don't want to wake up from."

It was such a sweet thing to say that her eyes misted with tears that she didn't want him to see. "So, what's the myth? Who are those mystical Fates, and how do they decide who to pair with whom?"

"According to clan lore, there are three entities called the Fates. They weave people's destinies and find them good matches if they are deserving. Those who are most worthy of a boon are granted a truelove mate." He sounded matter-of-fact, as if he was quoting a manual, but she knew he was choosing the words with care. "A truelove bond lasts forever."

"Do the Fates serve everyone or just the clan?" she asked.

"Not just the clan, any immortal. Humans can't bond like that. Only people who carry the godly genes can. Bowen says that it's incredibly powerful, especially when it's new. Even a few hours of separation are difficult to bear. Mates who have been togethera long time can tolerate longer stretches. That's how Bowen and the other mated Guardians can leave their partners behind in the village and join missions. An established bond can stretch. A new one is too taut."

Sullha thought about Areana living in the dungeon with a male the whole world was better off without, and the lore stopped sounding like a myth and started sounding like a diagnosis.

"Who do the Fates consider worthy?" she asked.

"According to Bowen, those who have suffered greatly, or those who sacrificed greatly for others."

"Then both of us qualify." She lifted her face, her nose nearly touching his clean-shaven jaw. "We've both suffered, but so has every woman in that enclosure. If the Fates reward suffering, then every one of them has earned a truelove mate, and the Fates owe that island a great deal of weaving."

"Yes," Yaaf said. "They do."

He was looking down at her, and his eyes dropped to her mouth and stayed there.

They were glowing, and it wasn't a trick of the light. It came from within, a low blue luminescence rising up through the irises. It was as beautiful as it was impossible.

Sullha forgot all about the Fates and what they owed to whom.

"Your eyes are glowing," she whispered.

"I know." He did not look away from her mouth.