Page 1 of Saving Destiny

Chapter 1

Kodi

Ifloat aimlessly … it feels like an eternity passes. Time blurs into nothing as I struggle to clear my mind of the regrets and memories that drove me out here – into the endless blue sky. No matter how my soul strains, I can’t accomplish my goal. The blissful ignorance surrounding my death and the life before it is gone. I’ll never have that peace again.

I don't know where I am, and I have no destination in mind. An instinct drove me to flee because I can’t fight, but the pain and horror I longed to escape follows me … itisme. I always thought death allowed a soul to relinquish regrets, but mine didn’t. Now that the memories have returned, they drown me with their brutality; it’s a punishment for my years of oblivion.

Being a ghost wasn’t so bad when I couldn’t remember because Zosia didn’t either. We’d lived a mildly pleasant lie. I'd been carefree and mostly unburdened by the difficulties a corporeal body presented. As a ghost, I’d almost been able to ignore the complications that accompany birth, life, and death. I hadn’t wanted for money, food, sleep, air, or anything I remember being vital in life. Didn’t some wise man say that wanting causes suffering? Shouldn't death be free of suffering?

Mine isn't ... because I want and desire, so I suffer. I yearn to be alive, if only to touch Zo and feel her touch in return. That longing is now suffocating under my memories. She'd opened the floodgates when she'd dived into her subconscious. With tears in her eyes, she'd whispered the grisly manner of my death and everything I'd forgotten had rushed in. She might be keeping her head above water, but I’m drowning.

Past and present blend into each other as the shrillness of a young sphinx’s cries echo in my mind. When I close my eyes, I see my sister’s shallow, barely breathing husk on tattered blankets.

My life's blood warms the stone floor of the underground compound as my body cools. The wolf shifter grins with feral savagery as his teeth and claws rip into me. I am back there, in the only home I ever knew. That's where I did horrible things, hoping to save the only people I considered family – my sister and Zosia.

Some unknown stimulus jolts me back into the present, and it takes me a second to remember where I am and why I’m here. The same man who had killed me, the powerful alpha shifter, had dangled the bait … my sister lives.

When I’d made the crucial decision to defy the man who’d raised us, my sibling was in great pain and so close to death that I’d chosen to save Zosia first. Once I’d removed the collar and the sphinx was safely outside the compound, I’d gone back for Fi. The wolf, Jonathan Addington, found me first.

Has my sister been suffering since I left? Has she endured seven years of pain and horror while waiting for me to save her? Is she wondering why I abandoned her?

Sarcasm and a wry snort call my awareness back to the senses I’ve retained in this strange, ghostly form. The bitter and contemptuous mood has sustained me for seven years. Why would it leave now?

I’d soared into the sky, intent on saving my sister like a knight on a white horse, but what could I do? Even if I recall the location of the compound, I can’t wield a knife or battle a cohort of guards. I doubt their fear of ghosts would encourage them to abandon their posts. I am as useless now as I was on that stone floor. Even if my sister still lives, which I’m beginning to doubt, I can’t save her. I can’tdoanything.

A high-pitched, unearthly shriek pierces my eardrums. If I were alive, blood might leak from my ears … and I might have pissed my pants. Perhaps being a ghost has some perks.

I’m not alone anymore. A large, predatory bird flaps their wings and glares at me from a single golden eye. I squint at them, wondering if they're a shifter, but I don’t think so. Shifter or not, they're angry that I'm here. This is their sky, I imagine them saying, and I don’t belong here.

I salute the bird with a mocking grin. “You’re absolutely right,” I say. “I don’t belong here, but I don't belong anywhere.” The last claim rings false, and the bird flashes me a dirty look before they soar away.

As they disappear, the sun glints off their gold and red feathers. The colors remind me of Zosia’s wings, although her wings are larger and more beautiful in her strange hybrid form.

My bitter grin turns into something less ugly, but I barely notice. The memories had brought me pain, heartache, and regret, but they’d returned her magic. Zo had finally shifted again after so many years in her human form. She’d regained the utterly magnificent and powerful form of her birthright – the legendary sphinx. Seeing her face Addington and his stupid, troublesome fanboy had been so badass. I’d hovered just out of sight to watch her skewer him with her words and her existence.

Then, he’d uttered the words that had made me lose my fricking mind. It was like he’d cast a spell when he’d said my sister still lives. I know he'd directed the words toward me, not Zosia, and they worked. His claim made me forget every promise I’d made in the last week. My younger sister had been so close to death when I’d died, but Addington’s words had triggered years of regret and grief and robbed me of logic.

As my mind considers the value of rational thought, my weightless body continues to float without any direction from me. Here, in the endless expanse of sky, I feel ephemeral and absent. I feel undone. I could be the air, a cloud, smoke, or fog .... The strange substance that composes my incorporeal form is just as malleable.

Being up here is soothing, and I don’t want this peacefulness to end. Rational thoughts and logic are overrated.

A sensation that evokes a memory of pain – although I can't recall the exact feeling – lances the center of my chest. For a brief moment, I think the bird has returned and caught me in their sharp talons. That can’t be right, though; their claws would pass right through me.

The strange feeling grows as I float further. It’s the strongest physical reaction I’ve had since I died, and I stupidly marvel at it for several minutes instead of seeking a cause. My momentum halts in midair when a tree catches my attention. The leaves form a goblin’s disapproving face. I blink and look away, but the nearest cloud rearranges itself into an open book. Another cloud beside it transforms into a pen.

The images might be hallucinations, but they’re still guilt-inducing. I’d made a vow. I’d promised Zo, the library, and the goblin caretakers that I’d be a guardian. I’d signed my name in a magical book with a pen – the only object I’ve been able to manipulate since I died.

How could I forget this? Even for a minute? Zo still needs me, and I’ve pledged my soul and my afterlife to the library and its librarian.

I owe Zosia an explanation. She might hate me and send me away after I tell her everything, but she deserves the knowledge in my newly retrieved memories. She’ll need all of it to fight Addington and combat his cruel plans. Just like the first time I saw her, when she was a matted, spitting furball, my intuition whispers that she’s important. There’s more at stake than my pathetic heart or pride. Knowledge is power.

As much as I loathe them, my memories are valuable. They’re saturated with details and inside information that Zosia and her other guardians can’t access. My new friends could spend months trying to uncover things I can tell them. After I’ve revealed what I know, I’ll find out whether Addington spoke the truth about my sister. Even if I can’t save her, she deserves a merciful death.

My resolve to return doesn’t automatically propel me toward Apocrypha Academy’s campus and the magical, sentient library. I’m scared. Why did my cursed soul choose to retain emotional fear and love as the only reminders of the life I lived?

I fear Zosia’s judgment; perhaps I also fear the other guardians’ judgment as well. I can’t bear her anger or see the regrets in her eyes. I have stolen so much from her and my crimes are more plentiful than she knows. My face twists even though no one can see my expression. Some habits continue after death.

Of course, I disliked Zosia’s guardians when I met them; I was filled with bitter jealousy. They are alive. They’ll sit beside her, cuddle with her, play video games with her, and sleep in her massive bed. Those warm-blooded, breathing men will do everything I’ve wanted to do for the past ten years.

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