Page 225 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 12

Paul gripped both her hands then gasped, holding them up to look at them. She’d let go of him, was no longer feeding her life force into him. When had she done that?

Not that it mattered. He was no longer going to send her back so that he could die alone. He knew now that was the wrong path. She’d helped him to see the truth of that.

She’d also helped him to see that he didn’t need to do this alone.

The burden had never been his to carry because she wasn’t the only one who died. They both did. Every time. He’d just been so focused on her death, he hadn’t taken any notice of his. This fate, it wasn’t her fate alone.

It was theirs.

He nodded. ‘How do we do this?’

‘You know,’ she said.

And he did.

He bent his head and kissed her, starting the magic of a mating all over again, undoing all he’d done, pouring himself into it, heart and soul.

She met the kiss with equal passion opening to him and giving herself over to the bliss that was this touching, this melding, this oneness.

He broke the kiss and pulled back to look into her eyes. Full of love and trust and belief in him, his ability, his strength. He’d not allowed himself to see it before—had always thought his feelings were one-sided because he’d seen himself as weak. What an idiot he’d been. She’d been there all along, ready to share, ready to buoy his strength. He’d wilfully ignored her and then wilfully tried to change what had always been meant to be because he couldn’t handle what was ahead of him. Ahead of them.

But she had been ready to handle it. And with her at his side, he knew now he was more than strong enough to face anything that lay ahead of them. Including choosing their life’s path.

Like her, he refused to think it was about their deaths.

He stroked his fingers into her chestnut mane, the red in its depths echoing the fire of passion raging inside him. Her eyes were alight with it too, and clear, so clear and pure. It was all he could do to stop himself from joining with her now. But they couldn’t give in to the wild urge yet. If they wanted to choose the path ahead, then they must do that first before sealing their bond and their fate.

She smiled up at him and even though he knew the brutality of what was to come, he smiled back. How could he not bask in the sun that was her?

‘I love you, Ivy.’

‘I love you too, Paul. Even in the false timeline you created that made me hate you, I loved you. I couldn’t stop.’

‘I’m sorry I did that to you.’

She stroked her hands through his hair then cupped his face. ‘I’m not. What you did brought us here and now we can do this together.’

He cupped her face and stared into her eyes. ‘Ready?’

‘Always.’

‘Close your eyes and reach down deep inside to the silver and gold threads.’ He didn’t have to tell her though—she already knew. Of course she knew. She could have done this without him. She already had access to the place his visions came from because they were soul-bound. She didn’t need her own magic because she had his. But she hadn’t done it without him, hadn’t chosen for him. She’d given him the choice to choose this path. Just as he should have always given her one. He’d been such an idiot. But no more.

He leaned his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and sank inside.

She was there, waiting for him in the void, staring at a swirling pool of fog lit up by lightning flashes within. She turned, held out her hand. ‘Show me,’ she said.

He gripped her hand, tight, pulling her to his side. Then he opened his vision-sight and showed her all the paths that lay ahead of them once they mated.

The boat. The car. The kitchen where they got electrocuted, the field where he got stung and died of anaphylactic shock.

They died, over and over—more car accidents, boat accidents, hiking accidents, strange illnesses.

She stiffened at his side as she watched the litany of horrible futures that was theirs to choose from, but she didn’t once look away. Didn’t once cry out or shed a tear. Just asked him to stop the visions at times so they could poke and prod at the sides of them to figure out the cause—but the cause could never be changed, as he’d said—and to look at the path that led them there, how long that timeline gave them.

He expected to be overwhelmed by the desperation, the hopelessness he’d experienced the first time he’d seen these futures, but it didn’t come. Her hope buoyed him as they looked for the future that gave them the most time, that gifted them the most happiness.

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