Page 106 of Unraveling Fate

But Cadenza was there waiting for him. She barreled into him, squeezing herself against his chest. He squeezed back, nuzzling her hair. The first stars of the evening glittered out the open garage door, their soft light caressing her face when she flashed a smile up at him.

Worth the hurt. Always.

She stretched up on tiptoes to kiss him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“That sounds intriguing,” he said. Fates knew he could use something cheery after last night.

“I figured it out! What the oracle’s answer means.”

He froze. “You did?”

She bounced on the balls of feet, grinning, but a tang cut through her usual caramel scent. She was nervous. Caution muted his reaction. Why would the answer make her nervous?

“I did.” She took his hands. Taran waited, but she didn’t elaborate.

“Well, then,” he teased. “I’ll have to think of something interesting to do until you’re ready to tell me.” He swept her up in his arms, a low growl in his throat. His teeth found the soft place below her ear, but she caught his face in her hands to look him in the eye. Her fingers trembled against his skin.

“Marry me.”

He almost dropped her.

“Maybe Reyna’s right and I am getting old.” He forced a laugh. “I think my hearing’s going.”

“You heard me. Marry me.” Her voice quavered as she said it, and she lifted her chin as if daring her voice to give anything else away. He set her back on her feet, his throat dry.

She brandished the strip of fabric from the oracle. “I visited one of the tents at the festival today, and—oh my gosh! Taran, I Spun! There was this woman doing textiles demonstrations and she showed me how to use a real spinning wheel,” she stuttered through telling him about how she’d produced real Thread. “But I can fill you in on that later, this is more important?—”

“More important than restoring the health of the planet and the balance of destiny to all humankind?” he interrupted, dazed. Cadenza had Spun. Surely the Fates would call her forward soon. The Messengers would come to extract her vow of loyalty and she would go. How could she not? And he had already resolved to not stand in her way when the time came.

“Yes, more important.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Look, the fabric from the oracle. It’s just like the ones they used at the handfasting booth today. Same length and shape. The woman with the spinning wheel even saw me looking at it and assumed it was from the booth, and I thought, you know, that could be it. That could be our answer.” She bit her lip.

“You thought if you married me, it would break the curse?”

“It works in the fairytales.” She bit her lip, the scent of her nerves coming at him stronger.

Taran shoved his hands in his pockets and tried for a joke. “Aye, maybe if we were living in aBeauty and the Beasttale. But my story isn’t that pretty. It’s more akin to a nightmare.”

“All fairytales are nightmares until you get to the end.” She slid her arms around his waist and locked her gaze with his. “I love you. Marry me.”

Oh, Cadenza. His brave, stubborn, miraculous Cadenza. Taran yanked his attention back to the fact that she’d Spun. Because that was what was important. The world needed that. They should go tell his father at once. But one bright spot, one beautiful spark, pulled him away from what should have been more important. It flared color and heat, refused to release him.

Cadenza thoughthewas more important. She loved him. She’d asked him to marry her. And perhaps—the knife-like sliver of hope from the night before slashed its way forward again—perhaps, he’d see the sun again. Although even if it didn’t work, being hers was enough for him.

The spark sputtered and dimmed. Enough for him, yes. But she had proposed assuming that marrying him would break the curse and they’d have a real life together.

“I cannot marry you, Cadenza,” he said.Bloody, shredding, hope.

Her smile crumpled. “Why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.” He took a step back, shaking his head. “A handfasting—any marriage—to a Guardian is different than to a normal human.”

“Different how?”

“Have you never wondered why my father never remarried? A marriage to a Guardian is no easily broken thing, even beyond the grave. The Threads of the two people’s tapestries—of their fate—are woven together. The two of them are joined in a new weaving, and it can’t be unwoven.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “Isn’t that what a marriage is supposed to be?”

“You don’t understand.” He started to pace. The garage walls seemed to shrink, his daily prison tightening its hold. “The weaving together—it’s not some romantic metaphor. If you marry me, and the curse remains unbroken, no matter where you go you will be pulled back here. To me. Even if you go out inthe world, to every Somewhere Else you could want, you will be compelled to come back. You willhave toreturn to where I am. You would be stuck with me forever?—”