The Evolution of Fae and Gods (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 3)

My eyes flare, jaw dropping. “Excuse me?”

“Ditching Lucien, going out alone to meet the Strathertons,” he reminds me.

Defenses start pouring forth. “I was in public the entire time, picked a place close by, in a crowded coffee shop. There was no way Kymaris was going to do something.”

“What if that wasn’t really the Strathertons?” Carrick asks softly, but there’s an underlying tone of anger there. “What if they had been taken over somehow to lure you there just for the purpose of killing you? What if they’d been possessed somehow and had a gun and shot you right between the eyes as you were sipping on coffee?”

The blood in my veins turns to ice at the same time my face heats up with the embarrassing knowledge that I, once again, underestimated the danger I could be in. “I hadn’t considered that,” I reluctantly admit.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” Carrick says, letting the words hang heavy.

“Accept my apology?” I suggest.

“What good would it do? You repetitively put yourself in danger. Do I need to lock you up?”

I think about this a good long moment, letting my gaze drift off. Am I a danger to myself? Am I just foolish and can’t help it?

But then it comes to me in a blinding flash of realization I know to be true. “You actually need to remove your thumb from me, Carrick.”

He wasn’t expecting that, as evidenced by the way his chin jerks inward. “Pardon?”

“I need my freedom. I need to make my own choices. And since I’m the key to this prophecy and have a Custodia angel to make sure I make it to the finish line, I have to think the fates want me alive for the time being. And maybe if you weren’t so strict with the rules, I’d be more inclined to actually take help along with me rather than thinking I need to ditch them. So yeah… no chains. No more keeping me in the condo. No more demanding I can only go out with you, Lucien, or Maddox. In return, I promise I’ll be careful.”

“None of what you just said reassures me,” Carrick says softly.

“I’ll promise to be very, very careful?” I ask as a silly compromise.

Carrick’s lips twitch, but he shakes his head in frustration. “I need to keep you safe.”

“You need to let me be who I am.”

Moving his elbows to the armrests of his chair, Carrick steeples his fingers in front of his face, staring as he ponders. It seems like forever, but, finally, he leans forward, crossing his forearms on the table.

“Fine,” he concedes. “You don’t have to be confined here. I would prefer you have someone with you, though, if you go out; otherwise, I’ll trust you to be wise in your decisions.”

“Really?” I exclaim with excitement, sitting straight up in my chair. “Just like that?”

“No, not really,” he snaps with irritation. “I don’t trust you to be wise at all. But I also need to let you be you, and I probably agree with you somewhat. I think your line of destiny is a bit stronger than Kymaris striking you down in the streets.”

“Good,” I say with a firm nod of my head, and then try to add some levity. “Thank you for letting loose on your controlling, domineering ways.”

Carrick’s eyes turn dark. “It has nothing to do with that, Finley. I care about your safety because I care about you. I know you feel the connection because I feel it too and—”

His words don’t drift off but cut off abruptly as if he was getting ready to say something that he didn’t want to say.

“Do you know something about us?” I ask, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Because there is something larger at play, isn’t there?”

I don’t expect him to tell me the truth, but surprisingly he says, “Yes. I do know something.”

“Then what is it?” I demand.

“It’s not something I can tell you,” he replies, the tone in his voice something I’ve never heard before.

“You said I could trust you,” I point out, somewhat of an accusation.

“You can. And I hope you believe me when I say that I can’t tell you what I know about our fates with particularly good reason right now.”

“Right now?” I press, catching on to his time qualifier. “Does that mean you will at some point?”

“Yes,” he says, and I hear the truth.

God, I want to know what it is. I know it has to do with these feelings of completeness I’m feeling with him. I suspect it means we’re fated to love, but how can that be when we’re both most likely fated to be free from life.

Unless… are fates set in stone?

Could Carrick fall in love with me and decide not to ascend?

Could I thwart the prophecy and come out still alive?