Page 26 of Bound By Destiny

“Not really. I knew you had a reckless streak the moment you took a dive ten-thousand feet high,” I remark wryly, remembering the blind fear that coursed through me that day at the Santa Catalina Mountains, when she let herself fall.

“I just panicked that time,” she tells me apologetically. “This was different. My mom’s underhanded comments, my dad’s helplessness, my siblings’ reproachful glares… I left all that on the ground.”

My lips stretch into a grin as I watch excitement play across her features, make her gaze glimmer and her frown disappear. A hint of the fire I discovered when we made love shines in her irises again. There’s a heavy pounding, and I take a few moments to realize it’s my own heart.

“I bet you were great at it,” I manage to utter.

“I’m surprised at your faith in me,” she says with a small laugh, “when you’ve been my flying instructor these days.” She shakes her head, happy memories brightening her face so much, I almost wish I could’ve been there, strange nylon gadgets or not.

“To answer your question, yes, I was pretty good,” she continues, not without pride. “As soon as I bought my own gear second-hand after weeks of working part-time jobs, my dream was to participate in all kinds of competitions across the planet.”

Despite the ardor lacing her every word, I can’t help but notice the way she speaks in the past. How did Destiny wind up in a profession so opposite to what she loved as a teen?

“By the time I turned seventeen, I had honed my skills enough to stand a chance in theworld championships in Colombia. I was ecstatic that as soon as I turned eighteen, I'd discover a whole new country, I’d be able to practice my passion without having to justify myself to my parents.”

Gone is her previous enthusiasm. Now her shoulders are limp, the shine in her eyes is gone.

“But you never did,” I conclude, sadness washing over me as well.

“I was well trained,” she sighs, voice growing emptier with each word, “yet there was something I was missing and that can’t be learned.” She jerks up, searching my gaze with such anguish my hearts twists. “Instinct.”

My observations begin to click in my head. Destiny’s clumsiness, at odds with the sportswoman she once was. Her reaction the countless times I told her she needed to tune out her thoughts and have faith in her intuition – denial, but also something deeper, fatalistic, as if there were certain things she wouldn’t allow herself to breach .

“As phoenixes,” I rush to reassure her, “our instincts are much more strong and precise than regular humans. You just have to learn how to tap into your intuition. Trust me, you can’t ever go wrong if you go by your gut.”

But Destiny is already shaking her head by the time I finish my sentence. “Not me,” she sniffles dejectedly. “My instincts are totally warped. If anything, I’ve learned that when my inner compass tells me to go one way, I better hightail the opposite direction before I cause a disaster.”

Worry clouds my vision, as I become terribly aware of all the signs of her grief. The twitch of her brow, her glassy gaze, the irregularity of her pulse that I detect at the base of her neck. A wave of aimless, crushing despair pours over me.

What’s happening here?, I wonder, shocked at the intensity of my own emotions. It’s almost like I’m attuned to the slightest change in her mood, like I can’t bear her being anything less than happy…

I close my eyes. It’s because we’re mates, I finally truly acknowledge, rage firing within me. Because of our bond, I can’t even distinguish what I truly feel from the sentiments of matehood. Both are equally true emotions but it’s hard to grasp when you’ve lived for so long with only your own despair as company.

And yet I want to be there for Destiny, even if it’s only for now.

“Why do you say that? I murmur, softening my voice despite the turmoil within me.

“A storm hit our town the spring of my junior year,” she drones on hollowly. “My mom had spent the weekend in a hotel in Aspen and my parents were arguing about that. I was nervous about my exams, and their constant fighting had me on edge.” She glances at me desperately. “Don’t ask me why, but I walked out the door. Just like that, right in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

Her words hit home more than she can imagine. Even if the risks are higher, there’s something about extreme weather that calls to us phoenixes. When I was at my lowest after Isobel left, I would soar high in the clouds, only narrowly dodging lightning bolts.

“For some reason, I decided it was a perfect time to go paragliding,” Destiny goes on, anger making her voice go a little shrill. “I knew it was a bad idea. But I just couldn’t resist the impulse. Every fiber of my being called to it, even if I lost control of my wings within a couple of minutes.”

“You managed to rise despite the wind?”

“Yes. And after that first huge mistake, I proceeded to make every terrible choice possible.”

“That doesn’t mean you’d make the same mistakes now,” I assure her vehemently. “Your nature was only burgeoning back then. Now that you’ve fully morphed into a phoenix, there honestly isn’t much that can go wrong.”

My attempt to lift her spirits is lost on her. She continues as if I hadn’t spoken.

“After taking all the wrong turns, I got to the edge of the cliff. At that point I got really scared. It’s a three thousand foot fall, and there’s nothing but pines at the bottom.”

I gulp, searching her for signs of a nasty tumble. But I explored her body quiteintimately, and I know for a fact there were no scars. Anxiety trickles down my temples all the same, makes my fingers tense and my stomach knot.

“Did you get hurt?” I whisper hoarsely.

“No,” she shakes her head in misery, voice quaking. “Oh but Dane…” Her stunning violet gaze latches onto mine, begging me for some unnamed thing I’d give her in a heartbeat, if only I knew what.

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