Enraptured

He swiped his forearm across his face, called himself a * when his arm came away wet. He’d kill himself if he thought it would do any good, but he knew it wouldn’t. He had to hang on and do the right thing so that one day he’d see her again. And Skyla’s last words, telling him to be greater, wouldn’t allow him to take the easy route out. Not anymore.

 

He closed his eyes, drew three deep breaths, but the flash of light that erupted outside dragged at his attention.

 

He sat up. Stared out the wall of windows to the dark balcony beyond.

 

Lightning, he told himself. Or a meteor of some kind. But he pushed to his feet anyway, thankful for any kind of distraction. He crossed to the glass door and pulled it open. A figure draped in a black cloak with the hood pulled up stood in the moonlight facing the dark water below.

 

His jaw clenched. He so wasn’t in the mood for company right now. He swiped at his eyes again with his shoulder and cleared his throat, putting as much intimidation into his voice as he could. “You wandered into the wrong tower. Head back where you came from.”

 

The figure turned, her wrinkled hands reaching up to lower the hood.

 

The blood drained from his face. “Lachesis.”

 

The Fate smiled. A light breeze ruffled the black cloak that he now saw had concealed her white robes. “Finally, someone remembers me.”

 

His heart sped up. And words…pleas…lodged in his throat as he tried to figure out what to say. How to beg. Would dropping to his knees and groveling be too much? Was there even any point, this long after the fact?

 

That hole in his chest opened wider. He took a shaky step toward her. “I—”

 

“No, hero, you do not have to beg. But you do have to promise me one thing. This time, live up to your destiny.”

 

She held her hand out to the side, and his gaze followed the sweep of her arm. To the figure across the stone balcony, standing in the shadows, also wearing a black cloak.

 

He squinted to see more clearly as the figure reached up with pale, feminine hands and lowered the hood. And was sure his heart jumped right out of his chest when the face he’d been dreaming of for the last week stared back at him.

 

“Skyla.”

 

If he was dreaming, he didn’t want to know. He was across the balcony in two leaps, his hands on her arms, pulling her into him. His mouth lowering to take hers as her warm and real and alive body brushed up against his.

 

“I remember you,” she whispered against his lips, her delicate fingers landing on his chest as he kissed her. Again. And again. And again. Just because he could. Until he was light-headed and breathless and she was smiling as if he was a giant fool.

 

“I guess that means you remember me too,” she said softly.

 

He could barely believe she was real. Her hair was different. Shorter. Just barely to her shoulders and more dark blond than golden. Though her face was the same, the heavy, perfect makeup was gone. A spray of freckles ran across the bridge of her nose, and he didn’t remember that small scar near her left temple.

 

“How…? Why…?” Still unable to believe she was real, he pulled the robe she wore open, pressed a hand against her chest where the wound had been. Nothing but flesh under his touch. And a heartbeat. A strong, rapid heartbeat beneath the thin white T-shirt she wore over slim jeans.

 

“They gave me a choice.”

 

He had to be dreaming. He didn’t want to be dreaming. Please don’t let me be dreaming. “Who?”

 

“The Fates.”

 

He turned to look back at Lachesis, but she was already gone.

 

Skyla’s finger tugged his chin back to her. And the emotions in her eyes cut right to the heart of him. The heart she’d reawakened. The heart that had been tattered and broken since her death. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. For everything. I should have told you who I was, who you were. I should have…” Tears swam in her eyes. “I should have trusted you all those years ago. I should have known you’d never—”

 

His lips met hers, cutting off her words. Gods, she was real. He still couldn’t believe it. But he wasn’t wasting any more time. Not on things that didn’t even matter anymore. “Shh. Don’t.” He cupped her cheek. So smooth. So warm. So real. “No more apologies.”

 

“But—”

 

“I’ve remembered a lot more about my first life since that night. And honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t kill me yourself. Skyla, I did steal the air element from Zeus, and I did hide it. And not for any honorable reason like protecting the world or keeping it out of the hands of the gods. I stole it because I knew it would piss him off. I also knew what you were when we met. So I set out to seduce you right back. And piss Zeus off even more in the process.”

 

“Are you saying—?”

 

“I’m saying there was nothing noble about my intentions. Not from the start. Not even at the end. The one thing I just didn’t count on was falling in love with you.”

 

Elisabeth Naughton's books