Page 27 of Voyage with the Reclusive Billionaire

“Is that not what ravens call it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The mating bond, obviously,” she says, laughing. “It’s written all over you two! Just the way you two move around each other is—wait. Oh, shit. Did you not know? Has he not mentioned it?”

“Sylvie, I have no idea what a mating bond is.”

Except maybe I do. I’m a doctor. I took a ton of biology classes—I know about some birds and their life partners. But I also used to read for fun, before I was studying to get my doctorate. I used to read stories about women and animal shifters and finding out that they're fated for each other—that they're mates.

If shifters are real, does that mean those bonds are, too?

“Well,” she clears her throat awkwardly. “I’ll let you talk to him about that. But you and I have something more pressing, anyway.”

“We do?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding, “About your ancestry. I’ve never met a goddess’ descendant before? Tell me all about it. What’s the magic like? I only know what it’s like to be a witch, of course.”

My heart was racing, my head flying light years with every minute that passed. “What?”

She snapped her mouth shut, then shook her head. “Oh, fucking toadstools. Please tell me I’m not breaking that news to you, too.”

“What do you mean, descended from a goddess?”

She gives me a look of sympathy. “I guess since you come from Lethe, it’s perfectly natural that you might not have known before. Though it’s still somewhat of a surprise… especially considering it means you’ve never run into a witch before? We’re everywhere, I swear to God. Why did I have to be the one who sensed it on you first? At least my gran taught me how to, otherwise I’d have spent this whole cruise trying to figure out why your aura is all—” she made a vague gesture with her hands in lieu of an adjective. “If only I could do what you can right now,” she says, laughing without humor. “I’d take back everything I just said. Actually, is it too late for that? Can I run away and pretend I never saw you?”

“No,” I answer, my voice strangely calm. “You’re going to tell me.”

“Tell you what? Because the mate thing really isn’t my—”

“ —No,” I interrupt. “The goddess thing. The Lethe thing.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, nodded. “Sure, I can do that. What do you know of mythology, Eliza? Did you ever learn about gods and goddesses?”

I nod slowly. “Not for school or anything, but I used to obsess over it when I was in middle school. I wanted to know every single one by name.”

“So you know Lethe, then? From your studies?”

Another nod from me.

“And I’m guessing that means you know what she’s the goddess of.”

“Forgetfulness,” I say.

“And her power?”

“Making people forget.” I shook my head. “Sylvie, what are you getting at?”

“Bear with me a little longer, okay? I’m leading you to it gently and praying that it stops you from having a cataclysmic breakdown and throwing yourself overboard.” She gave me a joking smile and smoothed her hands down her tan legs. “Alright, so she has the power to make people forget things. Has there ever been an instance in your life, Eliza, where someone suddenly somehow couldn’t remember something you were hoping they wouldn't? And you couldn’t figure out how, or why?”

“Just fucking say it, Sylvie,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the memories. Against the papers I’d forget to write that the teacher would forget to ask for. Against the reminder of the boy who I asked to prom my Junior year of high school, who rejected me and thought I was joking about it when I brought it up to him another time, acting as if he was unable to recall me embarrassing the shit out of myself on his doorstep.

“You can make people forget things, too. It’s… a manifesting kind of power. Nothing physical, just the kind of thing you have to summon with pure intention. Which explains how you never thought much of things that might have happened, besides the fact that you didn’t even know it was possible.” She shrugs, then adds, “It also explains why you had an obsession with gods and goddesses. My gran says most descendants find themselves going through a phase about it all at some point or another.”

“You’re saying I have magic.”

“I’m saying you have power. It’s not the same, exactly. Witches like me have magic. We can do a lot of shit with just a few different ingredients and being who we are. But you have power—an ability, a thing you’re capable of, one thing that is a completely different thing than what I do.”

With everything else she flung at me, like a slap across the face, it takes a second for that to process that it's the second time she's mentioned that. “You’re a witch?”

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