What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(90)

Mab saw glimmers of them, but I didn’t know another God who did. I’d never realized she saw them, never knew she could even hint at the power of the Primordials or that the threads were how they functioned. My own parents had both been Gods, with my magic being the unusual consequence of a mate bond between two Gods.

As if I was meant to exist, crafted by the hands of the Fates themselves.

I wondered how much of that related to my mate, how much of it might have been the way they seemed to maneuver her through time and space. She’d always been meant to be here, and even though she was suffering at the hands of the one woman I wanted to murder more than anyone, I had to wonder if she was exactly where the Fates wanted her to be.

If whatever was coming would be the change for the greater good. If it would be the driving event that finally freed all of Alfheimr from Mab’s clutches.

“Mab will not allow us to complete our mate bond if she can find ways to get around that vow,” I said, wrapping my mate in my arms.

She turned to her side, facing me as she turned hazy green eyes up to my blue. I wished I could chase away the fear that lingered in them, to remind her that she was capable of anything and everything if she only put her mind to it.

“Because she fears you’ll break your bond once you’re stronger,” she said, nodding as she sank her teeth into the corner of her mouth in thought.

I could practically see the gears turning, see the way she thought over the turn of events and searched for a new solution. The problem solver in her wouldn’t just let things lie, instead determined to manipulate and change until she had her desired outcome.

“It was never about me,” I sighed, the realization forcing a scoff from my lungs.

All my life, people and Fae alike had feared me and treated me as a terrifying God. All my life, I’d been told of the things I could achieve if I could only be freed. I was who I had to be in order to stand at Estrella’s side. In order to reach her and protect her, to guard and guide her on her journey.

“I am here for you. I am here to help you reach your full potential and to give you the boost you need to fight. Mab will not stop us from bonding to keep me complacent. She’ll do it to keep you controlled. She’ll do it to keep you small when you are meant for so much more.”

“Stop,” Estrella murmured, her expression shutting down as she reached the end of her tolerance.

She might have come a long way since her escape from Mistfell, but she was still the girl who didn’t dare to act on her dreams. She was still the one who was beaten if she didn’t behave exactly as they told her to. She didn’t dare to dream in splendor. Instead, she chose to tailor her dreams to her reality, managing her expectations. She limited herself before anyone could ever tell her no.

“I am going to love every moment of watching your journey, Estrella Barlowe,” I murmured, touching a thumb to her tense bottom lip. It softened in response, allowing me to lean down and touch my lips to hers. “And when you’ve finished molding the world to your desire, I’m going to have a portrait of your creation hung on the walls of Catancia. I’ll make you stand before it, make you look at what you’ve done—and I will be the first of many to tell you I told you so.”

She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to my chest as she hid her face from me. A lesser being would buckle under the weight of all that pressure.

But Estrella would rise like the stars in the evening sky.





30


Estrella


The air blew through the valley at the front of Tar Mesa, whipping along the eternal salt field that led to the rolling hills. Malachi nudged me forward, forcing me to take another step. One of Mab’s guards tossed me a bow and a quiver of arrows, leaving me little choice but to catch them. I fumbled to get a grip, slinging the quiver over my shoulder and grasping the bow.

I’d never held one before and knew I would be absolutely useless with it. Hunting had been forbidden in Mistfell. Only those with permits were allowed to kill the animals in the woods surrounding the village.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I grumbled, approaching the rest of the crowd.

Every God was there, knives and swords and bows and arrows strapped to them. The God of Twilight approached a table covered in weapons, pursing his lips as he selected from what remained. He chose a long dagger with a silver handle. The metal curved and knitted together like writhing snakes. At the top of the hilt was a crescent moon, the points of it sharp enough to bleed if I swung it wrong.

He approached, kneeling at my feet as stunned silence reached my ears. The only sound came from behind me, the deep growl of a voice I would recognize anywhere, as Soren raised his hands and wrapped the straps of the sheath around my thigh, pulling the buckle tight enough that the dagger wouldn’t slip. His pale silver eyes held mine as he fed the end of the leather strap through the loop, securing it finally.

“Take your hands off my mate, cousin,” Caldris barked, stepping up behind me.

Soren’s hands left my thigh suddenly, and the male pushed to his feet, turning his back on us as he approached the table once more.

“Do you know how to use a sword?” he asked me, ignoring my mate’s possessive irritation.

“Better than I know how to use a bow,” I answered, my lips quirking up at the corners. His playfulness with his cousin didn’t feel slimy; it didn’t feel like he actually had any interest in me—only in rattling my mate.