Page 73 of Gifted Destiny

Zosia’s nose crinkles with confusion, and my grimace probably mimics her emotions. “Testing us for what?” I ask.

“Atanea wasn’t the first to mention the greater universe,” Bren mutters. His hand idly strokes Zosia’s back as she leans against him. “And sometimes ….” His words trail away.

“And sometimes?” I prompt when a minute of silence indicates that we’ve lost him.

Bren shakes his head and refocuses his gaze. “Sometimes, my visions show strangeness I can’t explain.”

“And Fin called Bren a cosmic mage – not an atmospheric mage,” Kodi blurts rapidly, excited that he has something to offer.

I grunt. “But what are the cosmos to a goblin?”

“Good point, beastman,” Kodi murmurs. I might have walloped him for the slur if he weren’t staring at me like I’d just spouted the wisest words he’d ever heard … and if I could touch him.

I grunt as Avery’s words sink into my brain. It’s quite possible that he’s wrong, but the gist of his words makes perfect sense.

Zosia’s weight shifts, leaning more heavily against my brother. I worry that he might not be able to support her, but he doesn’t falter. My mate’s earlier fatigue isn’t as apparent, but her posture is noticeably droopy.

“This might be some sort of test,” she concedes, “but it doesn’t make the crisis we face any easier or the stakes any lower. And I’m not a superpower or a superhero. My birth might offer me some distinction, but ….” Zosia’s wings rustle in a feline shrug.

I want to kneel before her and convince her of her power; it has nothing to do with her birthright or her hybrid form. She might not believe she’s important to the world or the universe yet, but I want her to believe she’s important to us.

Atanea made several claims. The one I can’t deny is Zosia’s unwavering strength. I’ve met women who live such comfortably spoiled lives that they think a broken nail causes post-traumatic stress disorder. My mate has endured true horror and unspeakable loss. She is still willing to risk her life to prevent others from the abuse she endured, though. If that doesn’t exemplify the true character of a superhero, they don’t exist.

I don’t deserve her, but I’ll stay by her side as long as she’ll have me. And I will convince her that she is everything we say she is and more. Fuck Addington, and fuck that damn fake book. After everything my mate has been through, she deserves rest and happiness. We all do.

Chapter 33

Zosia

I’m beginning to hate the sound of my voice and constant self-doubt. Just when I feel like I’ve gotten matters in hand, something new and frightening happens.

I am petrified that I will ultimately disappoint everyone. In addition to Sage and my grandmother, every sphinx ever born is watching and hoping we’ll succeed. They might not be our only audience, either. There is more to this universe than we see – just like there was more to my life than I thought. More to me?

I have utter faith in my men, including Bren; they are everything my grandmother said. I’ve accepted my birthright, but the struggles and constant need to prove myself continue. Is this life? Suffering through endless trials? The tenth-floor goblin had mentioned something similar, but the mythical idea of an end continues to taunt me. I want to relax, breathe, and say, ‘I’ve done it. It’s over.’

When it’s truly over for me, though, I won’t be cognizant or aware to say those words. I won’t have an afterlife like Kodi. I’ll be gone, but a facsimile of me will remain in the minds of those who knew me or learned of me. Perhaps they will struggle to prove themselves worthy of me, as I am doing with my grandmother. Nothing truly ends ….

“All librarians are superheroes,” Kodi says.

My brain struggles to retrieve the conversation we were having. It takes another second to realize my best friend is serious for once.

“Remember all those times you thought you might go insane? The stories protected you. They saved you. Not all of my memories have returned because I can’t quite remember where I got the gooks that I read to you or gave you while we were underground. I think my mom had a room that was filled with books.” The ghost shrugs and shakes himself out of his memories, and his strange energy ripples strangely with the movement. I don’t remember that happening before we bonded, but several things have changed.

“Where I got the books doesn’t matter, but I’m positive the books were my mom’s escape, too. And remember some of the most scared kids at the orphanage? They wouldn’t talk to anyone, but they perked up when you, or anyone else, started reading aloud. Sometimes, it reminded them of someone who used to read to them. Other times, the books offered a different world or different life. You always thought the magicless libraries were magical, and you might be right. Librarians and books save lives, so they have to be super-powered.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of something so deep,” Garrett murmurs as he stares at Kodi. The ghost offers a cocky smile, and the shifter rolls his eyes.

“Don’t forget the people who write the stories,” Bren interjects. He’s either oblivious to the other men’s interaction or purposefully ignoring it. “There wouldn’t be a need for librarians or libraries if we didn’t have authors, historians, or storytellers.”

I sigh. “I suppose you have a point. It’s not just librarians or authors –hundreds of magicless workers do the work of heroes. If ….” My guardians lean closer as if shortening the distance between us will help them hear words I haven’t said yet. My tailthumps the floor behind me, and I start to chew on my lip before remembering how pointy my teeth are in this form.

“If is a good word,” Bren says with a nod. Heads swivel in his direction, but he doesn’t continue.

“No quote?” Kodi gasps.

Bren shrugs in answer before directing his pale gaze toward me. “If?”

I rise from my haunches and nearly smack the men with my wings as I shake and try to shore up my courage. “If I’m going to be a superhero, I might as well try to accomplish heroic things, right?”

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