Page 107 of Of Flame and Fate

“Why?”

Misha’s long hair sweeps over his shoulder with how hard he turns around to speak to me. “I will never allow them to see me in a moment of weakness.”

“But then why did I . . .”

His stare falls to my arm. “The magic in your arm is ancient, so is mine, and in a way so is the Fate’s, since fate and destiny have always existed. They don’t like each other.” He frowns, picking up on something I don’t. “Or perhaps they do.”

Gemini said my magic and Johnny’s both compliments and clashes. I suppose there’s always room for one more, and this space seems reserved for Misha.

“So whose future did we see?” I grab Misha’s arm when he doesn’t answer. It’s a stupid question given his volatile state. Gemini knows it, shoving himself between us and hauling me back. “Whose future?” I demand, trying to break free of my lover’s hold.

Misha’s shoulders rise and fall, anger and the heat of the moment summoning his aggressive nature. Somehow, he keeps it together. “It’s yours, Taran, and Celia’s. You saw me. I couldn’t help her because I wasn’t there to help.”

He walks away. The vampires scrambling after him as he disappears inside the house.

The conference call goes well. And when I say well, I’m lying. The best I can say is no one died, and no one’s killed each other. Yet.

Johnny sits to my right, with Agnes on his opposite side. Like the rest of us, he’s ill at ease, waiting for the leaders to pass their ruling. To his credit, he’s not openly showing weakness. If anything, he’s showing his strength. His tats crawl along his skin, exactly as they did before our collective power went boom and I saw some shit we’ll never unsee.

The peacock Johnny drew on his stomach shakes out his feathers as he parades around the room, his form massive upon leaving Johnny’s skin. He passes the row of vamps lining the wall who creep away from it. They’re not afraid of the bird, they’re afraid of the power behind it. So are the wolves who growl as it struts by.

Omar, the president of the North American Were Council watches it with interest from the giant screen directly in front of us. “As president, I hereby offer the Fate our full protection and declare him a national treasure.”

Genevieve and Ines seethe from their screen to the left, the silver and gold light streaming from their amulets indicative of their anger and disdain.

Johnny straightens. “What does that mean?” he asks me over Ines’s reply that Johnny isn’t theweres’to claim.

I lean toward him yet it’s Gemini who replies, his voice terse. “That you’re under our protection should you agree to join the Pack.”

“I’m not awere,” he says, sounding confused.

“No,” Gemini agrees. “It’s an official title granted only once before.” His attention darts to Celia, who became a national treasure only after Destiny declared her and Aric’s children as the ones who would save us all.

Aric isn’t happy, neither are the witches. “Let it be known that as Alpha and Leader I’m against any declaration that puts my mate at risk.”

“Your mate is still under our protection, I assure you.” It’s what Omar says, but he doesn’t bother looking at Aric when he says it. No, his admiration is too busy skipping between Johnny and that damn peacock.

“The Fate belongs among the witches,” Ines insists, her anger building.

“I believe you have enough problems,” Omar adds casually. “The shapeshifters are coming for you, witch. Burning the heart branded a target into your back, and into those you most cherish. Take this time to prepare for the inevitable counter-strike.” He smiles. “We’ll see to the Fate.”

Uri laughs from the screen poised in front of Misha. It’s the type of laugh that has nothing to do with humor and everything to do with superiority. Somehow, he feels he has the upper hand. “The Fate will do better with those who show him respect.” He smiles in Johnny’s direction. “And those more accustomed to the lavish lifestyle he leads. May I be the first to welcome you into our family, young Fate?”

Ines snaps, screaming at Uri and Omar in French. Growls erupt from Omar, and Aric. Like the rest of us, Aric recognizes that Celia and their children will be the ones ultimately screwed.

The peacock shoots forward, the plumage from his gold feathers vanishing in colorful spurts as he reforms into Johnny’s skin. No one notices, the collective group at each other’s throats when Johnny storms out.

Gemini clasps my hand when I rise. He knows I’m going after Johnny. “I can’t leave,” he says, jerking his chin in Aric’s direction. “Our pack needs to show a united front, even if our president won’t.”

“I know,” I reply. Like me, Gemini narrows his stare on Omar. Omar notices and smiles. He’s not afraid of us, except maybe he should be.

“You need to stand by Aric and Celia,” I say, pressing a kiss to his temple and slipping from his hold. “I need to . . . I don’t know what I need. I just need to get the hell away from everyone before I burn this shit down.”

I stomp away, furious. These supposed leaders have their own agendas, their own needs to fill. I understand it, but like Aric, my priority is Celia’s safety, not who gets to claim a super power like Johnny.

Since the incident on the mountain, I feel Johnny more, his feelings and turmoil of emotions, but most of all his growing power. Each moment Destiny comes closer to death, I sense Johnny getting that much closer to becoming omnipotent.

I’m sad for both of them, for Destiny who’s dying far too young, and for Johnny who’s too young to bear the title Fate brings.

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