Page 83 of Gifted Destiny

“If time is thin, can we time travel and change the current situation?” I ask excitedly. “What if I didn’t die? What if Zosia’s legs weren’t broken? What if Agustin …?” My words falter because Zosia starts shaking her head the minute I start speaking.

“I already thought of that,” she says in a sad voice and proceeds to explain how everything is connected. Even changing one thing, like preventing my death, could alter everything and erase the years we spent together. I might be a ghost, but we fell in love after I died. She only escaped the prison because Addington was distracted while he killed me. The list of events I’d love to change is long, and every single one would change the circumstances of the past week. This past week has been the best of my entire life and afterlife.

I pout dramatically. “Rude. Destiny gives us the ability to manipulate time, but we can’t do anything without risking the best thing that’s ever happened to us? What’s the use in all this, then? When will it stop?” I gesture to the thick, blue fog.

For once, the shifter agrees with me. “The ghost has a point.” Zosia’s calm has settled some of his fear, but he’s still nervous. The muscle in his jaw clenches rhythmically, and I expect his teeth to turn into powder. “What do your visions say, Bren?”

The mage shrugs, bringing attention to the fact that he’s still not wearing a shirt. His muscles aren’t as big as mine are – were – but the leanness suits his pretty face. The reflection of blue on his pale skin is definitely alien, though. The blue in Zosia’s hair suits her, though. She looks edgy rather than alien, and I kind of like it.

“I tried to access them. I thought I’d be lost in them when you arrived, actually, but it’s as if the visions have been transformed into power. I can see very little.” He sighs heavily. “Maybe we can’t change a keystone event, but ….”

Zosia shakes her head adamantly. She’s not usually so confident about her convictions, so I think it’s important to listen. “Changing anything is too risky. I strongly disagree with meddling with time – even slightly. What if we can’t return after we’ve decided to change something? Bren told me that time branches in different directions, and we could potentially split our party. A differentusmight take over. It will still be us, I guess, but not theusthat we are right his second.”

If I weren’t already dead, my brain might explode. The only part of Zosia’s words that I understand istime travel is bad.

“Time meddling …,” Bren whispers, but he’s disappeared into his head again. While he thinks, Garrett hands him his shirt. He takes it without missing a beat and slips it on as he paces the short distance of the small area not overtaken with blue fog. Inthis spot, time seems to be working normally because the living’s movements are at regular speed instead of slow-motion.

“What are our options if we ignore this opportunity?” Garrett asks Zosia. “We face trouble right now – in this timeline – or whatever it is. Did you two attempt to create mage fire?”

Zosia’s face reddens again, but she doesn’t look away. I give her less than a week before she stops flushing every time we mention sex. Her boldness grows every day, and her newfound confidence makes her glow even when she’s not channeling magic.

“I think they were busy,” I tell Garrett as I send a wink in her direction.

“We were, but ….” She holds her hand out, palm up, as if she’s going to offer us something. At first, I think the occasional static crackle of electricity around us is refracting light in a strange way. Within seconds, however, an obvious blue flame appears in her outstretched hand.

“Magnificent,” Avery whispers, breaking the silence he’s maintained since we joined the others.

“What do you think, Avery? Any thoughts on this time travel business?” I’m curious to hear his opinion; the vampire has proven uniquely intuitive.

After Garrett nods his approval, Zosia extinguishes the small blue flame and leans forward eagerly. “Yes, Avery. What do you think?”

The vampire’s posture is stiff as he considers the precise words. Although we’ve grown accustomed to his careful speech, waiting is still difficult for the most impatient of us … me – it’s difficult for me.

“I am hesitant to say anything without knowing exactly what Bren is considering at the moment. He told me everything Fin said about timelines, the future, and the past, and I believe his current rumination will provide insight. I also second Zosia’sopinion. Traveling through time with the intent to alter it could be catastrophic. Although our current situation is dire, our problems can always increase. Manipulating a fundamental law of nature to our benefit seems like a blatant request for punishment. Our destiny has led us to this moment, and destiny likely has a reason. I doubt the solution requires us to thwart destiny’s will by erasing this moment.”

Although I understand Avery’s explanation slightly more than Zosia’s, the concepts of fate and destiny are as nebulous as the idea of a god or gods. I’ve grown more accepting of the things I can’t comprehend since I literally returned from the dead, however.

Zosia nods. Her admiration and affection for her four mates flow along our connection like water, sinking into each of us. Adding Bren feels like the return of something that I never knew was missing. Although my form remains incorporeal, I feel more alive than ever. I belong here and now … with this group of amazing people and this strange, sentient building.

Do I owe this moment to fate, destiny, or the will of a higher power? Maybe it’s just dumb luck? How I got here doesn’t matter, but I’m more convinced than ever that I shouldn’t risk everything I’ve found. Whatever Bren suggests, he needs to reassure me that we’ll still beuswhen it’s over. My happily ever after doesn’t exist without them.

Chapter 38

Zosia

Did destiny provide the time storm for a reason? Although Bren doesn’t agree with my description of the phenomenon we unknowingly created, I can’t deny its suitability. The electrical energy and unpredictable nature of the swirling magic remind me of a storm. My hair stands on end, occasional tremors of power roll across my skin, and my past injuries ache like an impending pressure front.

I tentatively attempt to contact Sage and the goblins again, cloaking my query in secretive silence to avoid disturbing Bren or upsetting the others. Before we arrived on the roof, my efforts didn’t yield anything. This time, the nebulous response lacks words, but its inherent nature calls my sphinx form.

The transformation happens before I truly understand what’s happening, but I take it in stride. The nature of the surrounding magic captures all of my attention when the shift is complete.

My sphinx senses increase the strangeness of the ambient magic. Unfamiliar scents taunt my nostrils. Voices whisper, but they’re too muffled to interpret, and my ears twitch with aggravation. I barely notice the difference between my human and feline vision the majority of the time, but the fog looksdifferent as well. Flashes of light paint images into blurry photos or skipping movie reels. I can’t make sense of anything.

“What just happened?” Kodi asks. “Why’d you shift?”

Another whisper of intuition, perhaps Sage’s, brings me to all fours. I rise, extend my wings, and shake my fur and feathers to prepare my muscles. At least the fatigue has abated.

“Bren.” I growl his name to capture his attention. It works. “We’re about to receive a visitor.” My mates, lacking any further explanation, gather to either side of me with our backs toward the dome.

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