Page 12 of Gifted Destiny

“Let me check something,” I tell my companions, flipping through the catalog of books newly harbored within my mind. Accessing the records would overwhelm me, so I focus on a specific keyword search. “OH,” I hum while I examine the results.

“A man named Phineas Walthers garnered the trust of the library and Atanea. Several years before Bren was born, he’d researched atmospheric and elemental mages. He might not have been able to remove the books from the upper floor, but he could have memorized the information and recorded it himself. I doubt the name is coincidental.”

“It’s not,” Tremayne confirms in a weary tone. “That was Jerome Walthers’ father and a good friend of mine. Phineas had good intentions, but he’d confessed that he feared his son was making dangerous friends. He wouldn’t have willingly given the information to Jerome or Addington, but he died in a house fire. His vast stores of knowledge were thought to have perished alongside him.” Sorrow and suspicion shadow Tremayne’s words. He doesn’t believe the fire was accidental.

“So Jerome got the information and gave it to Addington,” Garrett grumbles. The shifter doesn’t just say words; they are always grunted or growled. The rumbling quality of his voice sends a pleasant shiver across my skin. When his dark eyes search my face, a second shiver follows. “How far back can you see?”

I shrug. “I don’t know that it’s limited, but there’s too much data. I need specifics, or my brain might fry.” My attempt at a joke falls flat because it’s a distinct possibility.

“Did Addington spend a lot of time in the library when he was younger? What books was he interested in?”

I’m uncertain that the alpha’s reading habits will provide us with new insight, but Garrett’s curiosity appears stronger than a fleeting whim. I close my eyes as I sift through the information. “Addington is an alumnus,” I tell everyone without opening my eyes as the results start trickling in. My mind’s visual creation skills present the data like a computer’s search engine. “He spent a lot of time here during his enrollment. He occasionally requested information from the top floor but wasn’t allowedaccess. He was especially interested in methods of channeling and preserving mage power.”

I flick through the titles, surprised that Sage allowed him to read several of them. She hadn’t been denying him but she hadn’t ignored his unique requests either. “During his senior year, his privileges were limited to the specific texts that his professors indicated. We don’t carry a book titledHow to Steal Supernatural Power and Create an Army of Obedient Supernaturals. After graduation, he was officially banned from the premises.” I frown. The reason for the prohibition isn’t clear, and Sage doesn’t offer any details.

Kodi scoffs. “He could probably write that book now. Why wasn’t he reported to the authorities?”

“No one can be punished for seeking knowledge,” I proclaim when I open my eyes. The words tumble off my tongue as if they were a company’s tagline I’d heard a million times. The two older men at the table nod with me. “The knowledge a patron seeks isn’t what is important; it’s what they do with it.”

My best friend crosses his arms over his chest and prepares to argue. He died a petulant teenager, and his stubborn nature is equal to mine. “That’s ridiculous. If someone waltzes into a magicless library and requests several books on pedophilia, they should be arrested immediately.”

“On what grounds?” I retort. “What if they’re a psychology student and they’re writing a paper about abnormal sexual obsessions? Or perhaps they’re already employed, and their focus is healing sexual assault in children? What if they were abused as a child and seeking answers?” I argue my case firmly. “I agree with the library on this one, Kodi. Knowledge is powerful, but the real danger lies in what someone does with that knowledge.”

Kodi’s lower lip juts out, but he doesn’t continue arguing, which means I have technically won. After years of friendlydebates and general disagreements, we understand each other’s cues and behaviors.

Bren’s voice is soft after my vehement defense. “I don’t fear losing my atmospheric magic.” His words return me to the original conversation. “It’s brought me nothing but fear and annoyance because I can’t control it and Addington wanted it. I consider my farseeing abilities my only magic. While Addington was interested in my visions, he simultaneously belittled them. When they didn’t favor his plans, he would claim that a powerful man makes his own destiny.”

Bren inhales deeply and his gaze meets mine. The pale green of his eyes is somehow deep and emotional. Every time I look at him, I marvel anew at his beauty. It steals my breath away.

“This is my consent,” the man beside me continues. “If releasing the magic is required to stay at the library with you and the others, I’ll gladly do it.” The library doesn’t need to reveal his honesty because the earnestness in his voice is sufficient.

A flush of emotion makes my face feel hot. The idea that he wants to stay with me shouldn’t affect me so powerfully, but my emotional maturity is stunted from years of being unwanted or wanted for all the wrong reasons.

I haven’t earned Bren’s loyalty, and I’m scared of disappointing him – and my other guardians. I still don’t believe I’m worthy of this devotion, but the contracts have been signed. The only way out is through, but I might be too frightened to take the first step.

Chapter 8

Kodi

My internal bullshit detector doesn’t sound when people spout nonsense; it alerts me when Zosia leans into her insecurities. When Bren vows to sacrifice his magic to stay with her, the alarm is nearly deafening.

My hands and my jaw clench, but I can’t feel either. If we were bonded, I could speak into her mind and tell her inner voice to knock it off. I know she’ll be mad at me for bringing attention to her anxieties, but I’m worried that she might shut down. It’s not like anyone here is ignorant. The wizard dude is too old to be stupid, and Ansel looks deader than me.

“Zo.” I whisper her name after I insinuate my formless body between her and Garrett. The gap is narrow, but I take care not to touch either. Her head swivels toward me absently. I might drown in her blue-gold eyes and the pain displayed in their depths.

If I were granted only one wish, I’d choose to stay at her side. A solid body would be useless without her, so I wouldn’t ask for it. As the realization sinks in, I curse my idiot brain for the revelation’s delay.

The woman I love bears scars, and only some are visible. Despite them, or perhaps because of them, I’ve never seenanyone more beautiful. I’ve carried complete faith in her since long before she regained the ability to shift into her legendary hybrid form.

I sacrificed my life for her, and I’d do it again. I wouldn’t have known love if not for her. While I loved my sister, I always felt guilty and inadequate because I couldn’t protect her. I barely remember my mother.

I’ve always been destined to be at Zo’s side. This instinct had been present from the first time I encountered the hissing, spitting feral shifter, although I didn’t realize it then. I should have prevented her from being injured beyond repair, but my handlers had locked me up when they’d realized my intentions to free her. I’d only barely managed to save her life.

If I weren’t emotionally stunted, I would have told her sooner that I loved her. I would have spent the last seven years building her confidence and reassuring her of her worth. She blames herself for my first tether, but I would have followed her anyway. She has always been my destiny.

Although everything fades to the background, I’m aware that we are no longer just two lost souls against the world. Avery is her mate now, and his calm strength lends stability. Once she’s mated to the brothers, she won’t be able to deny the truth of our loving support.

“Stop.” The one-word whisper communicates everything she needs to hear. The doubts that shadow her brilliant gaze don’t disappear, but they lessen when she concentrates on breathing deeply and evenly.

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