Page 41 of Bound By Destiny

Destiny frowns. “Species?”

I nod, unsettled by how different the world was back then. “There was a lot more diversity back then. Phoenixes, Merpeople, Gorgons… Most of them lived in secret Kingdoms, like the one my family ruled, Sowilo.”

She shakes her head, awe written all over her face. For now at least, her thirst for knowledge seems to have taken over her broken heart. “It’s hard to even imagine all this. What happened to them all? Do they still exist? And does this mean you were a Prince?”

“That’s a lot of questions,” I point out. “Yes. I was Prince, and–”

Destiny claps her hands over her mouth. “Oh my. How dreamy!”

I send her a skeptical look, though inside I can’t help but find her silliness endearing.

“Dreamy? Sorry to ruin your fantasies, but I was a bloodthirsty, entitled brute,” I say with biting honesty. “As for your other questions, the answer is I don’t know. Most were probably massacred in the wars that followed. Now there are only twelve phoenixes – thirteen with you.”

Destiny considers my words for a few moments, tracing patterns into the polka dots of the sheets. “How come you guys survived, and the others didn't?”

“Warwick, Aleixo, all the members of the Guild… We were outcasts,” I tell her. “I fled Sowilo with Isobel and Warwick, and none of the rest lived in Kingdoms either. That’s how we were spared the internal struggles and grisly battles that tore supernatural societies apart. The humans that ultimately wiped our kind out, Hunters, only took advantage of the strife to strike when the opportunity came. But the fact is, it was hunger for power that was the downfall for phoenixes and all other supernatural species alike.”

Despite her carefully schooled air, I can tell Destiny is more troubled than she lets on. The imaginary shapes she traces become more confusing.

“And before Isobel, you were thirsty for power as well?”

Tell me what you’re thinking, I want to say, but I know before questioning her I must tell her all the facts.

“Very much so,” I confirm gruffly. “My dream was to take the throne to a country riddled with political machinations and violence, but when the time came…” I shake my head, recalling my turmoil all those centuries ago. “I said no. Because of Isobel. Not only did she show me that our ways were wrong, she also taught me to look for whatIwanted in life, rather than what I was taught to do.”

My voice grows weaker. The crushing pressure of those days comes back to me – the fear of showing my weakness, the unquenchable need to prove my worth to my father's eyes.

The mere thought of what my life would have resembled if I’d accepted the crown makes me shiver. Brutal, cold, empty and… short. I would’ve died like my father did.

“I couldn’t abandon the woman who showed me all those things,” I say hoarsely, and I realize my words are a plea. “I couldn’t leave Isobel behind.”

Soft fingers reach for mine, easing my fists apart so she can hold my hand in her smaller one. My heart, which had dropped somewhere at the level of my feet, soars. I look up in confusion.

What I see bewilders me all the more. Why does Destiny look like she’s at the brink of tears? Is it because I loved another woman before her?

“Since she was mortal,” she asks quietly, “were you with Isobel when she died?”

I can’t tell where the question is leading, but I owe Destiny honesty.

“Yes,” I say stiffly, carefully pushing those horrible images away. “She was frailer than most, so she died young, even if her life lasted a few years longer than we hoped for.”

Her thumb caresses the top of my hand almost frantically.

Her next question is barely perceptible:

“And were you happy together?”

Will she resent me if I tell her I was?I almost lie, tell her our life was a living hell, but I know that would be an insult to both Destiny and Isobel.

“We were.”

A whole minute ticks by, perhaps two, and I have no idea where we currently stand – whether Destiny can look beyond my past or if she can’t find it in her heart to give me a chance. I tap my foot nervously. If Destiny rejects me I’ll spend the whole day explaining, if that’s what it takes, carefully breaking down each nuance until she understands how grateful I am to have finally met her.

There comes a point where I can no longer bear the silence. I swirl Destiny’s way and search her soft lavender depths, trying to find a clue.

“Why do you ask?” I press when her face remains a beautiful mask.

Destiny’s lip quivers, and her brows scrunch together.

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