Chosen by the Fates

If She'll Have Me

Aisling ~

As I watch the kiss, every confused and hurt part of me washes over me. I am just a grocery girl in my sweater dress and leggings, surrounded by the excessively wealthy and beautiful. The woman is strikingly beautiful, moving with the composure of someone who has always been idolized, sought after, and showered in the praise of kings. With her lips pressed against Sol’s, I feel a burning surge within me. A tearing sensation of pain that cuts me to my core. She embodies everything I imagined I was not on our first date.

Every insecure voice within me tells my I am witnessing a private moment, not meant for me with him. Something else within me tangibly recoils, and my eyes drop of their own accord.

I turn and leave, the image of a woman perfectly matched for Sol kissing him.

It is just as well. It’s not like I need any more romantic confusion on my plate. Now I know why he has been gone. But I feel revolted by the thought of it.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I pause. I close my eyes, surrounded by the noise and bustle of people mingling during the intermission music.

I can feel the burning pain of tears behind my eyes. I have always cried when frustrated or angry, and I hate it. I let the sounds surrounding me remind me of everything that exists beyond my own worries. The dancers, the laughter, people coming together. My friends.

The tears recede, and the seething part of inside me with them. I have no ties to Sol. He is a handsome man who took me on one truly awkward date. I begin building myself back up.

“There you are!”

Tiffa’s sudden exclamation registers even as I practically jump out of my skin. I look up to see her worried eyes behind the visage of her dark leopard mask. She looks me over, seeing the pain behind my eyes even with my unicorn mask concealing my features.

“Want to get some air with me?” Her gentle voice sooths the confusing turmoil of emotions barely beneath the surface of my aching heart. I nod, not sure if I can speak.

“Awesome.” With a bright smile, she loops her arm through mine, leading me further away from the event rooms.

The people surrounding us are a blur of expensive costumes and masks. I’ve almost forgotten I fit in perfectly with the dress and mask I was given. However, looking at Tiffa, I realize we look no different than anyone else here. The only thing separating us from the rest of the people here is what’s in my head. The knowledge that I work at a grocery store.

Tiffa leads us out onto a balcony, and I realize the back side of the massive building faces a sheer cliff. We are overlooking a huge stretch of uninhabited park, a dark shadow that quietly separates this event from the brightly lit Metropolis. The expanse of lights seems to go on forever in either direction along the waters of the ocean beyond.

Cool air brushes my skin, settling my nerves, filling my lungs. Snowflakes dance across the night sky, as if following the sway of the music within the building. Their crystalline structures glimmer as their movement sways through shafts of light.

“Who do I need to kill?” Tiffa’s tone is so solemn, I can’t help but laugh. My laugh is weak and sad sounding, but it feels good. It seems to relax my vocal cords enough that I feel like I can speak without crying.

“Sol.”

She looks startled, “He’s here?! How?”

I nod, “He tried to apologize. Ashleigh and Sionainn didn’t seem to recognize him. They pulled me away. We didn’t really talk.”

“Chrysanthemum.” Tiffa’s idea of a serious curse word.

We watch the evening sky as a chorus of singers echoes through the night air from the building within.

“How do you feel about it?” Her eyes search mine as she asks.

“I just saw him kissing someone. They looked close.”

Tiffa scowls, “I guess it makes sense that anyone with any money would be here tonight with their dates.” Seeing the pained look in my eyes she sighs. “Sorry.”

I shake my head with a sad smile. “It’s good. It all makes sense now.” It doesn’t. My heart screams irrationally.

I logically know better, though. It does make sense. Our first date was awkward. He asked me to check in to be polite. He didn’t get back to me because he decided to see someone else. When he saw me tonight, it was unexpected, and he felt bad. He probably was just being polite again.

This is a normal way people interact, Sol didn’t do anything wrong other than be far too polite. Something within me stirs again. It feels angry, but different than my usual feelings or thoughts. I shove it down with a deep breath in.

Tiffa nods slowly, accepting my answer. “I guess it does.”

“Hey, after we get home –“I think about everything that has been going on in the last 24 hours. The dreams, the forest, Sionainn and Ashleigh… “-Could we drink something hot and just talk?”

Tiffa grins, “Coffee?”

“You know that’s too much caffeine in a day for any reasonable human, right?”

“Who says I want to be reasonable?” Tiffa shrugs. We both laugh, and she takes my hands in hers. “Of course, we can. Ready to go back in?”

I nod, and we head back in together. Tiffa leads me through the crowds as the intermission music changes and a resounding chorus fills the building.

We end up letting go of each other’s hands as everyone files through the event rooms. We move along the walls as dancers take up their places on the floor once more. The singing is light and hopeful, assuaging the disease and emotional turmoil within me.

Dancer’s approach, offering a hand to Tiffa and me. With an excited grin, Tiffa accepts, and I follow after. We are swirled around amidst the other attendees and performers, once more a part of the musical. The room becomes a blur of lively music, accompanied by an orchestra of drums and fiddle music.

Then the music changes, slowing. I am once again spun to exchange partners with another dancer. As my new partner’s hand makes contact with my own, electricity courses down through my arm into my core. My heartrate increases, the beat hammering along with the drums of the music. I know who I will see even as my eyes lift to the mask of a golden wolf. His deep blue eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them.

“Aisling. I’m sorry.” His words ring through me, and every cell of me knows they are genuine. He means what he says.

My mind reels even as that small rebellious portion within me rushes forward with exhilaration.

Something flashes behind his eyes, as if startled. He pulls me closer as the music softens.

“I am not a capricious man. My intent toward you is genuine, and serious. Please see me again so that I may explain?” His low voice is pleading.

This close, his familiar scent fills each breath, quieting my tumultuous thoughts and feelings. The pain in my heart eases.

But the rational part of me isn’t satisfied. I finally find my voice, “You literally have my phone number.” My tone is more scathing than I intended or am usually capable of. Good.

Our eyes remain locked as he twirls me out away from him, then with a gentle pull, brings me back to him. My heart skips a beat. He is as proficient at dancing as Sionainn, or any one of the performers here.

“I am an old-fashioned man.”

“That’s just another way of saying sexist.” Why is he here asking for my forgiveness while he is here with some other woman? Uhg. There are too many questions in this mess.

“I must admit. This would be the first time I’ve been called that.” He chuckles, amused at my quip.

“What does your date have to say about you seeking me out here?”

My comment cuts his chuckle short. I watch as a tumult of thoughts swirl behind his eyes. He speaks as if choosing his next words carefully, to be perfectly clear. “The woman I met this night is a business associate.”

I can feel his sincerity. He may not be lying, but his explanations don’t explain everything, only my specific points. I feel uncomfortable confessing that I saw them kiss, but even their other interactions appeared far more intimate than being business associates.

My mind is a tangle of questions.

Our hands slide along one another’s arms, and he gracefully twists our bodies so that when we come back together his arms are wrapped around me with my back pressed against him. The length of his body is warm, his scent is intoxicating, and his low voice is soft as he speaks in my ear.  

“You owe me nothing, especially not forgiveness until I can prove myself to you.”

My heart hammers against my chest, my breath catching in my throat. Electricity dances across my skin at every point of contact with his warm hands, every part of me feels drawn to him. Despite the unique physical sensations and attraction, I can’t help but feel more myself than any of the other times we’ve interacted. My mind and thoughts remain clear.

When he spins me back around to face him the music is ending, and he bows to me. I’m left standing breathless. A lone soprano appears above us, her song haunting and sad. When I look back, Sol is gone.

 ***

Sol~

I see her in the crowd as she is pulled out onto the dance floor by one of the performers. After watching a moment, I am able to determine the dance steps. It comes easily to me, I’ve had centuries in polite society to learn most variations of couple and group dancing. I offer my hand to an attendee, joining the dance floor with the others.

When I see her partner cue a switch, I accept and within seconds Aisling’s hands have joined mine in a jolt of electricity.

My wolf remains silent, and for the first time I am able to focus entirely on the feel of her without the distraction of having to fight my wolf for self-control. Her scent is still intoxicating, her hands warm in mine, and I can hear her heart racing as if toward me.

“Aisling. I’m sorry.” Every part of me echoes those words. There is nothing more that should be said. It doesn’t matter why I vanished or left her feeling vulnerable, hurt, or betrayed. A better mate would not have.

I should have known more before meeting with her. Texted her back in the car before losing control and becoming a wolf. There were other choices I could have made.

Even as I am thinking through how I could have handled things differently; I feel that part of her that isn’t quite human rush up against me. As if feeling it, my wolf stirs. I wait with bated breath as we dance, praying to the fates and all the gods of old for a moment of mercy.

As if in answer, the music softens, and my wolf grows quiet once more. Only when I am sure my wolf is asleep do I dare to pull her close. Her scent enveloping me, calming my nerves.

How can I impart to her that despite everything, I intend to do better for her? I search for the words. “I am not a capricious man. My intent toward you is genuine, and serious. Please see me again so that I may explain?”

Her muscles untense, something behind her eyes calming. However, her voice is sharper than I expect, “You literally have my phone number.”

Guilty as charged.

Our eyes remain locked as I twirl her out away from me, then with a gentle pull, she spins back into my arms. The feel of her against me sends my heart racing.

“I am an old-fashioned man.”

“That’s just another way of saying sexist.” I am startled by her quick retort and sense a hidden meaning to her words. But I also am pleased to see this side of her. She seems more relaxed around me than she was the last time we touched. Besides, I would suppose she’s not wrong about the times changing.

“I must admit. This would be the first time I’ve been called that.” I chuckle.

“What does your date have to say about you seeking me out here?”

Her words catch me off guard, silencing me. She saw me with Fuchi? When? Well. It is quite possible I am seeming more unreliable to her with every damned misstep. As a man with centuries of experience in keeping my composure, I gather my thoughts concisely. I need to be absolutely clear about this with my next words.

“The woman I met this night is a business associate.”

I watch as a series of emotions pass behind her eyes. Interest, belief, confusion, irritation. I can only put my faith in the fates, our bond, and hope that she is willing to reach out to me. If she is not, even the will of the fates can’t alter her free will.

My heart twists at the thought of losing her.

Our hands slide along one another’s arms, and her body gracefully twist at the gentle direction of my own hands and body. We come back together with my arms wrapped around her and the length of her back pressed to my chest. Her curves are warm against every part of me, her scent intoxicating.

With her ear so close to my lips, it’s difficult to resist kissing along it. I utter one last plea to her, “You owe me nothing, especially not forgiveness until I can prove myself to you.”

I can feel her heart hammering just as mine is. I hear her breath catch in her throat. Electricity dances across my skin at every point of contact with her.  

When I spin her back around to face me, the music is ending. I bow low. I can hear the weight of her thoughts even as she stands breathless. A lone soprano appears above us, her song haunting and sad. She looks up at the appearance of the protagonist on the balcony above.

For a long moment I let my eyes wander over the length of her bare neck. I feel a pull, the desire to feel the tender flesh there under my tongue, between my teeth. My wolf begins to wake with a low growl at the thought combined with the smell and feel of our mate.

I leave at that.

While I am still able to.