But what she had said…
A fated pair was a couple that had been matched together by something bigger and more important than the gods of our world, Bluhm. There were many different lands and creatures on our planet, including gods who lived in a realm connected to it, and we all had some things in common.
But fated mates were bigger than our world, or our gods. Fated mates were determined by some deity in or beyond the stars, that nothing and no one could control or truly connect with. Some called that deity Fate, some called it God, some called it Destiny. Regardless of its name, it was the one thing in our world and all of the others that nothing and no one could change or alter.
Fate was the most common title given to it in our land and the Solar Provinces, according to Akari. She was a solar fae, so she had grown up there for most of her early life, and knew more about their land than the Dark Court we resided in.
What I knew about fated mates… no magic could alter their connection. The actual bond between them took time to develop, and as it developed, the mates grew more possessive and more protective. Akari had heard that their magic began to connect and combine as their bond grew, but she wasn’t positive whether or not that was true. Same with the idea that their minds could connect and communicate as their bond strengthened; she had heard it, but the connection was so rare that there were very few people who knew whether or not it was true.
Had the power transfer situation somehow urged Fate to connect us? Or had we been connected even before Namir’s magic became mine?
I had been so young then, that I supposed it didn’t really matter if we had been connected before or after the power transfer. I’d been a dying, powerless infant—there would have been no life for me without Namir.
And that seemed significant to me, somehow.
My mind continued to spin, even as my stomach growled. After a few minutes, there was a knock against one of the thick poles that held the tent up.
I frowned at it.
Akari had spoken of people knocking on doors; was this the same?
“I can hear your stomach growling, Diora. You need to keep eating if you’re going to continue gaining strength now that you’re free,” Namir warned.
“I’m hardly free,” I retorted.
There was a long pause. “If you were to ask me, I’d say that having me at your side will make you more free. You wouldn’t have survived in the forest so long without me pointing out which foods were safe to eat; you would’ve frozen nearly to your death if I wasn’t there to hold you and warm you.”
He went on, his voice growing lower as he spoke from the other side of the tent’s flaps, “You fear being trapped again or hurt again, but you know that fated mates grow possessive and protective of each other. With the King of Shadows holding you close, keeping you safe, no one would touch you. If they so much as tried, I would destroy them—and take great pleasure in doing so.” His voice was a growl, and barely above a whisper, with those last words and the ones that followed. “You fear losing control of your magic, but with me next to you, you never will because I’ll be there, holding you, until you’ve regained that control.”
My stomach clenched, and I said nothing.
The next time he spoke, his voice was raised again. “Take all the time you’d like to think about it, but if you don’t eat, I will climb into that tent with you and force the food between your lips. And I can assure you, I will take great pleasure in doing so.”
A scowl twisted my mouth. I shoved the tent’s flap to the side and held a hand out. “Give me the food.”
His lips curved up in a wicked yet somehow playful grin as he bent over, putting his face level to mine, and handed the plate over. “You’re sexy when you’re furious, Love.”
I ripped the tent’s flap back into place, glaring at the fabric and earning another chuckle from him.
Bastard.
The plate was loaded with hot food, though—more than I’d ever eaten at once, I was fairly certain.
My stomach growled in response, but I forced myself to pick up the fork resting on the plate.
Despite the beast in my chest, and the animalistic tendencies of the fae like me, I was civilized. I would eat with the damn fork.
Slowly and with much annoyance, I used the utensil to work my way through the food. The taste of it was like nothing I’d ever had before—the flavors intense. Nothing was too sour, or too sweet, and with every new type of food I tried, I became more convinced that this was a meal that might finally make me dream for the first time in my life.
And a dream about food was something worthwhile to hope for, I decided.
When I’d finished the food, I slipped the plate out of the tent and set it on the ground without opening the flaps or stepping out myself.
As I did, my hand brushed a warm stretch of skin, and I dropped the plate like it was a damned monster.
A warm hand caught mine gently as the plate crashed to the ground. Namir’s shadows wrapped around my wrist immediately, calming me and making my eyes close.
“It’s just me,” he murmured.