Page 77 of Gifted Destiny

A grunt jolts me from my thoughts. The food basket is just beyond Zosia’s reach. I shake aside the epiphany I’ve just arrived at and focus on preparing two plates of food. The array of dishes is impressive considering the library’s current dormancy. The container of yogurt, fruit, and granola that I give Zosia appears pre-arranged but also homemade.

I’m distracted from my hunger when Zosia digs into her food, and her lips close around the spoon with obvious enjoyment. My little lioness isn’t sexy on purpose. She probably thinks she can’t be sexy, but she’s wrong. She possesses an authentic, innocent sensuality that is enhanced by her lack of awareness. When her eyelids flutter closed and her tongue flicks forward to lick the remaining yogurt from the spoon, my body reacts immediately. Before I met Zosia, I couldn’t achieve an erection without considerable effort. Simply watching her eat arouses me. I don’t need further proof of our compatibility, but it continues.

“I’m still angry that the detective almost damaged the contract book,” the woman next to me sighs. She’s oblivious to my desire, and I adore her for it. A typical shifter would smell it, and the women Addington preferred would have expected and searched for it. “I don’t know why I thought we were invincible.”

Her distress urges me to comfort her, and my palm finds her thigh before I can overthink my impulse. Her eyes widen but I don’t see any sign that she wishes me to stop. My intent was to soothe her, but the soft heat of her skin through the thin leggings is distracting.

“That wasn’t your fault, little lioness. If it’s anyone’s fault, it should be mine. The BSP wouldn’t have been here if not for me, and I didn’t foresee the event in time to warn you.” When she opens her mouth to protest, I shake my head. “If you believe it isn’t my fault, why can’t I believe it’s not your fault? Feelings should be equally valid in each direction.”

Her eyes narrow as she contemplates my argument. “That’s not what I ....” her words end with a grimace when she remembers she can’t lie – not even to defend an argument.

“Just like beauty is in the eye of the beholder, blame can be too. We are all in this together, though, so we should share the consequences and the blame if there’s to be any.”

“I suppose you have a point,” she murmurs and continues her yogurt. I opt for a pre-made sandwich so I don’t have to remove my hand from her leg. “I’m more than a little scared that we’ll fail.”

Her whisper is meant to be casual, but the full depth of her fear makes my mouthful of food too dry to swallow. I hide my reaction by reaching for a bottle of water. The worst part is that I can’t offer any reassurances; my visions aren’t comforting. Most people can’t contain their curiosity, morbid or otherwise, but Zosia doesn’t ask me what I’ve seen. Either she doesn’t want to know, or she trusts me to tell her anything necessary.

“Let’s not fail,” I say with forced determination after several moments of silence pass.

“About that … do you have any idea how to create mage fire?”

“Do you?” I counter.

Abrupt laughter bubbles from her lips, appearing to surprise her as much as it does me. “No clue!” Her declaration carries a hint of mischief.

I grin, sharing her desperate amusement, and recite the first quote that comes to mind. I don’t always remember learning the quotes; it’s as if they just wait in silence for their perfect entrance into a conversation.

“John Krasinski said, ‘Always trying new things is always more fun, and it can be scary, but it's always more fun in the end.’”

Zosia closes her eyes, and a little line appears between her brows when they draw together. My dick pulses with renewed desire at the sight of her strawberry-stained lips puckered around her spoon. I really want to kiss her. The surprising intensity of this urge prevents me from following through.

“‘What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?’”

Her soft murmur is nearly inaudible through the blood rushing through my veins. I think she’s referring to my desire to kiss her before I realize she can’t read my mind. “Vincent Van Gogh,” I add as I identify the original speaker.

“Yes. I don’t know as many quotes as you, but I can come up with a few. I can also access a million books on creating mage fire.” She grimaces. “A million is an exaggeration, but the key point is that many, many books that mention it. When I try to learn more, though, my mind just takes me back to yesterday. Do you remember when I held you up here on the rooftop while the storm raged? Garrett thought it would calm you.” Her cheeks adopt a blush of pink at the reminder.

I recall the moment, refusing to look away from her. Even after I’d regained conscious awareness, I hadn’t immediately pulled away. I’d wanted to absorb the vulnerable feel of her embrace. She and Garrett radiated acceptance and love while surrounded by a deadly storm. Selfishly, I’d never wanted the moment to end.

“I remember. But why?” I doubt she’s referring to my lack of control.

“Your sparks! Everything I know about mage fire reminds me of the sparks your magic creates. Mage fire is malleable and follows its creator’s instructions. Regular fire, the chemical process of combustion, is nearly impossible to control or direct. Your sparks resemble the sparks of a fire, but they didn’t burn me or anything around us. Although I’ve never seen mage fire myself, I’ve also heard it’s commonly blue like your sparks.”

“I don’t create or control the sparks, though. I barely notice them anymore because they appear whenever I’m upset, overwhelmed, or overflowing with magic.”

“Were they the same when you channeled magic into Kodi?” Her tone is deliberately sly as she forces me to evaluate my magic from a different perspective.

“A few stray sparks flew off, but I managed to just compress them into the rest of my magic.”

For the second time in two days, the feel of something large and hot inside my chest nearly overwhelms me. It takes me a moment to realize what the feeling is – confidence … self-confidence.

“I controlled my magic,” I whisper before repeating the words at a louder volume. “I controlled my magic! I controlled it when I gave it to Kodi. Those sparks could be fire?”

Zosia nods, mirroring my excitement. “They could be. I think you directed the sparks, and I think those sparks can be mage fire. As a wise man once told me, ‘Magic is intention.’” Shequotes my words with a giddy smile that rekindles my urge to kiss her. “Just modify your intentions. Instead of ‘give the ghost energy,’think ‘mage fire’or ‘destroy the evil book.’”

I chuckle. “I think my original prompt was ‘make ghost hard’because it was funny. I also knew we would achieve our goal faster if we thought of you.”

I’m not trying to flirt, but Zosia’s cheeks turn red, and her eyelashes flutter with nervous appreciation. Her lips also curve into a smile because she appreciates Kodi’s and my sense of humor. The three of us never really had the chance to say these things around a group of our peers.

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