Page 65 of Gifted Destiny

Her head rests on my thigh, and her emotions reassure me more than her words. “It’s not a burden to spend time with you,Avery. Your presence is calming. I also feel less fatigued and tired than I did earlier. Like you, I can’t explain it. I also can’t say whether it’s because of the magic on this floor or our time together.”

I nod. “We have much time to explore these questions.”

I’m not sure she believes me, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she takes a deep breath and steps past the threshold we have been avoiding. Her wings brush against my legs as she pads forward on soundless paws. I follow as close to her as I can without stepping on her tail. The dimensions of the room are cramped, and I don’t wish to break anything.

Despite being an open door, the smaller room holds a unique scent. It reminds me of Zosia’s sphinx form but older.

“Without a goblin escort, I almost feel like I’m trespassing.” Zosia’s tone is quiet and reverent, which I understand. The room inspires a similar veneration to a mausoleum or place of worship.

The image she showed me burns so brightly in my mind that I believe it’s current, but we hadn’t been alone that time. I can’t shake the ghostly echoes of the other guardians.

I once told Zosia that time possesses a magic of its own, especially for those of us who have long lives. Tragedy, change, and other monumental events often skew our perception as well. Hours can inflate into days or years or shrink into seconds.

“I feel closer to Sage here,” Zosia whispers. I reach for her, and the sensation of fur against flesh grounds me. “Although my bond with Sage bears similarities to the ones I have with you and the others, I rarely feel emotion. When I do, they don’t feel entirely … human.”

Her anguish at not being able to understand provokes a need to help. “Do you know any other languages?”

“Of course. I mean, I didn’t before I arrived here, but I seem to know them all now. They’re as familiar as English.”

“If that is the case, my idea may not work. I was going to suggest that you imagine her emotions are a different language. As an alternative, pretend that you lack the sense in which she typically expresses emotions. For example, you are deaf but her emotions are only expressed via spoken words. Our brains often provide clues and form parallels even if we can’t interpret them in a typical manner.”

Understanding and appreciation coast along our bond. “You really are brilliant. I have been looking at Sage and this situation through a normal pair of glasses. Perhaps I need 3D glasses or something like that.”

Silence follows and her body steadily relaxes into me. She’s entering the trancelike state that permits her to retrieve information from the library within her mind. I stiffen my legs and widen my stance, offering as much physical support as possible.

Her aura brightens just before she speaks again. “I think …, I’m not sure that I’m right. I suppose that is the problem with impromptu translations. I don’t sense danger or pain but concern. Possibly also like she’s preparing for something?” The idea sparks palpable fear in my mate. I stroke her back, unable to bear her distress.

“And I don’t think she’s deliberately avoiding me. The goblins’ retreat and her silence might be a safety measure. Do you think I’m the danger?” The question is nearly unintelligible through Zosia’s horror.

“Absolutely not. You are part of the library, Zosia. If she considers retreat the safest option, I believe she’s trying to protect you.” My intuition bolsters my opinion, and I send all of my certainty to my mate.

“But isn’t it more dangerous to keep me oblivious and lacking in knowledge?” Frustration overwhelms her aura, but I prefer this to the sense of betrayal that had tried to sabotage her.

“Perhaps there is a reason Sage cannot speak to you about this. I mentioned the vampire elders and their methods of instruction. Do you believe you can contact any of your ancestors directly?”

My mate’s emotions are as turbulent as Bren’s wild magic as she cycles through them. Curiosity, eagerness, frustration, and unease are foremost in her mind.

“I have no idea if I can, and I haven’t the faintest clue how,” she replies in a decidedly grumpy voice. Not knowing must be an anathema to all sphinxes – the fabled kryptonite among their species.

I recall the vampire lore my nanny had relayed. “Master vampires left totems behind – physical objects that could channel their spirit. The most recently dead were the easiest to contact, and sometimes, that totem was a portrait. Perhaps you can attempt to speak to your grandmother through her portrait?”

Sudden anxiety spikes through Zosia’s aura. Her silence worries me until I realize that she’s deliberating how to voice her concerns. “What if my ancestors don’t like me? What if they’re disappointed in their legacy?” A nervous chuckle follows her hasty questions. “I feel less negative in this form, but it doesn’t erase all of my insecurities.”

I crouch and stretch my arm toward her. She moves into me, knowing what I want. With my fingers, I catalog the minor differences between her sphinx face and her fully human one. Her soft fur tapers to smooth skin below her jawline and wraps over the nape of her neck. When she closes her eyes to allow my exploration, I notice their slightly larger size. The contours of her face are more cat-like, but I hadn’t noted this on my visual inspection.

When my hands cradle her head, I’m reminded that she doesn’t possess human ears. I’m used to feeling the hardcartilage, and I love to tease the soft lobes between my lips and teeth. My fingers dip into her thick hair and find the furry substitutes high upon her head. A pleasant, deep rumble vibrates through her when I caress the juncture of her scalp and ears.

“I can purr?” Her surprised gasp is almost lost within the rolling hum of her delight.

I can’t compare the noise to a domestic cat because the creatures avoid vampires for obvious reasons. As it’s not a growl, a snarl, or a melodic hum, however, I’d agree with her assessment.

My fingertips find a spot that increases the volume of her thrumming purr and lights her aura with pleasure. My body responds automatically, and I must exercise careful control to prevent my canines and my cock from growing. A magicless human might consider the interaction strange or immoral, as Kodi suggested earlier. Neither of us is incapable of consent, however, which forms the basis of the immorality. We are mates. I crave her satisfaction regardless of the form she takes.

“You have nothing to worry about.” I despise returning to a subject that decreases her pleasure, but our obligations take precedence over our carnal natures. “Your ancestors will love you as I do. If they don’t, they should feel shame instead of dislike. Your lack of protection allowed your injuries.”

Although her purr subsides, she doesn’t lean away from my touch. “Short of trapping my mother here, they didn’t have any power over the situation. I doubt that would have ended well.” She breathes a heavy sigh. “I need answers, though, even if I encounter disappointment.”

“If you succeed in contacting Atanea, we should ask about Agustin.”

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