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I marked my page and closed the book I was reading, fixing my full attention on Haley. My stomach had been knotted since I said I wanted to read the prophecy on her back, but for a second all I felt was boiling, insistent lust as I watched my mate approach. A fine sheen of sweat covered her skin, her inked arms bared by a sleeveless black shirt, the fine muscle in her biceps making my cock jump to life in my pants. The messy ponytail and the loose, confident way she walked certainly didn't hurt. I wanted her to climb onto my lap and ride me to ruination. Wanted her to own me, wreck me. Part of me was still feral, a very big part of me still broken; I’d just pulled the jagged pieces back together and taped them in place. I was still in the shower in Edinburgh, empty and terrified to lose her again.
But the nervousness in Haley’s expression cleared my head—even if it didn't quite deter my dick—and when she bit her lip, the gravity settled back onto my shoulders.
"Aren't I walking to the gallows?" she laughed tightly, perching her fine ass on the edge of the table. I was distracted for a moment by tracing my palms up her thighs, but I batted the need back when she spoke. "This prophecy probably says how I'm going to die—preferably in a blaze of blood and glory, but probably doing something dumb like trying to stab a titan in his big toe."
My lips twitched into a smile, and I met her gaze, holding eye contact. "It's going to be alright."
Her little laugh disagreed with me; she looked away. "Nice place, this. Very cosy. I like the amber lighting—and that heavy oak really warms up the place."
"Haley," I murmured, squeezing her hips.
"Em's always wanted a library. It's a step up from the three cluttered bookshelves we had in our last home." Not the safe house in Edinburgh—the house where we'd lived for years, where we'd felt safe. Until Wynvail burned it down. Traitorous, villainous, heinous— "Why are you suddenly murderous, Malakai?"
I blinked innocently. "Just thinking about Cronus."
She bit her lip again; I rolled it free with my thumb, stroking the dent she'd made.
"I was glad, you know?" she blurted, meeting my eyes with something close to panic. I slid my fingers into her pink hair and cradled the back of her head, knowing it comforted her. "When I couldn't read it, when I found out it was written in the old language. Then, I never had to find out what the prophecy said."
"Except you have a mate who can read it," I murmured, stroking her scalp with the pad of my thumb. "Whatever it says, it changes nothing. You're not a slave to fate, my rose. This only foretells what you choose to do. That's how destinies work."
She scoffed. "Phoebe made it sound like we can't fight it. Like fate's going to grab my body and pilot me like a puppet."
"That's not going to happen," I said firmly, though I truly had no idea how fate worked. Fate was the reason Haley was my mate, and I wouldn't change this bond for anything in any world, but even if we'd hated each other, would Fate have pushed us together and given us no choice? I decided I didn't care. She was mine, and overthinking it would just make my head explode. I had enough worries without adding another. "I mean it, Haley, this changes nothing. Whatever it says, you're still a badass woman with a crazy streak, a massive heart, and a killer ass."
"Thanks," she drawled, but she was smiling.
"And you have your mates beside you," I added. "Always. It's not your prophecy, my rose; it's ours."
Her pale throat bobbed. "Fine. Let's get it over with."
She hopped off the table and pulled her sweaty shirt over her head, peeling off her bra next.
"I could bend you over this table and fuck you until you scream," I pointed out.
"Or you could read the prophecy of my guaranteed-to-be-grizzly death."
Right. A bucket of metaphorical ice dumped over me. "Turn around, my rose. And don't worry." I rose from my seat and moved closer, dropping a long kiss on your shoulder. "I'm right here. I've got you."
She nodded, a tremor going through the tether between us. I kissed her other shoulder for good measure and stepped back, steeling myself before I began to read. I'd only glimpsed a single line before—what is made can be unmade—and immediately looked away. If this did speak of her death, I wouldn't be able to handle it. I couldn't lose her again. She was my entire goddamn world, and I didn't want anything to do with a universe without my—
"Kai," she said urgently. "Tell me."
I shook my head to knock some sense into my brain and began to read the dark words inked lovingly down her spine. My stomach twisted into a tight knot the more I read.
"What is dead can live anew
When bonds are shattered, love runs true
Kin is found and lost once more
A titan's death brings final war
What is made can be unmade
At Olympus, steep price is paid
Sacrifices, thefts, and gifts bestowed
