Page 22 of Bound By Destiny

I cross my arms defiantly, though deep down it may be more in defense – against what? A woman with questions that cut a little too deep?

“A nurse doesn’t suit you at all. Now I see why it’s better to stay as close to reality as possible.”

I narrow my eyes. I can see where this is going.

“I don’t need to tell you anything, Destiny.”

She jerks back at the harshness of my tone. A few seconds of stony silence tick by. The mere mention of those memories I don’t want to share, of that time I dare to revisit only at my darkest moments makes me feel like I’m at the edge of a precipice. I don’t want to fall back into those decades of grief after I lost Isobel. I still don’t want to let go of Isobel’s hand either, although it’s not here for me to hold anymore.

Yet for the first time, another thought torments me even as I’m wracked with longing and sorrow over the past. Something trivial, entirely incomparable to the centuries worth of anguish that have been my burden until now, and yet… it bothers me. Before I know it, I voice the source of my turmoil out loud:

“Do you still love Caleb?”

My question is met with a look hard as stone.

“I don’t need to tell you anything, Dane.”

Destiny

We’re already at the end of the second of Dane’s mandatory three weeks, and we’ve covered everything from inflammatory healing to the art of avoiding pictures, which can serve as proof decades later of our immortal existence. I’ve been dutifully absorbing Dane’s instruction as if it were some hypothetical science, some elaborate theory that is cohesive and valid, but that doesn’t concern me.

Today though, I think I’m in for a reality check. Because the only box left to check on Dane’s list is the very lesson we started with, and that terrifies me for more reasons than one: flying.

For our second attempt, Dane has picked a location that’s considerably less impressive than the heights of the Santa Catalina mountains. The hill I stand on today is no higher than a one story building.

I’m still petrified.

“Could you have picked a place with less wind?” Dane growls as he holds his hand to gauge the air.

“Actually, I couldn’t have,” I retort a little too brightly. “Not in the U.S.A at least. Catalina Foothills is the city with the least wind in the whole country!”

He lets his head fall and mutters a string of profanities.

“Destiny, you have to arch your back a bit, like…” A frustrated groan escapes Dane’s lips. “Come on, don’t make me touch you.”

“I imagine I’d have to round my shoulders and keep my feet together,” I babble in panic. “It’s what would give me optimal lift and minimum drag, so to speak.”

“Exactly!” He exclaims. “Since you know the theory, why can’t you put it in practice?”

With a sigh, I give it my best. I join my legs together, hop in the air, freak out, and land a few inches further. Again.

“Just… Argh!” Dane sputters, messing his russet strands in the process. “Destiny, how many times do I have to tell you,you have to let loose?!”

I send him my most pitiful look, hoping he’ll cut me come slack and tick that box even if I haven’t succeeded.

“I can’t. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit of a stuck-up nerd.”

Dane kicks the sand. For a moment, he looks half-crazed with his nest of copper hair and wide-eyed gaze.

“Are you kidding me?!” He snarls. “I, more than anyone, can attest that you’ve got it in you to be wild.” Heat surges to my cheeks as I stare at the vein throbbing at Dane’s temple. “Goodness Destiny, that’s all I can think of these days.”

I never believed the day would come when a man would sing praise for my lovemaking skills, least of all as a way to encourage me.

“Dane,” I state, struggling to keep my tone as flat and sensible as possible. “You just broke rule number two. But aside from that, my… sexual preferences have nothing to do with my capacity to fly.”

Dane marches over, sending sand everywhere in his agitation. My heart misses a beat when he grabs my arm and massages my skin.

“They haveeverythingto do,” he counters vehemently.

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