Page 130 of Craving Carla

Angie looks at me, her expression softening for the first time. “I know it’s hard, Amari, but have faith in Fate. Let Carla find out who she is.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” I snap, watching helplessly as Carla floats several feet above us, completely encased in the pulsing pink cocoon. “Just leave her in this magical web for who knows how long? We know nothing about what’s going on.”

I run a handover my face, my voice breaking slightly. “I cannot lose her.”

Angie studies me carefully. “Do you think Fate will take her from you?”

I go quiet at that, the question hitting deeper than I expected.

“I don’t deserve her, and I know it,” I admit softly. “But I’m working to change. I will do anything.”

Angie sighs, a smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I was wrong about you, then.”

I look up at Carla, floating in her magical prison, when I notice something on the wall behind her. Moria and Kemnebi cling to the ceiling, watching quietly. Kemnebi catches my eye and sends me an image: the word “wait” spelled out clearly in my mind. Something about his calm assurance soothes me enough to pause.

Anora lifts her hands, and black and green magic streams from her fingertips, curling around the pink cocoon in twisting tendrils. But as soon as her magic makes contact with Tabatha’s, it recoils sharply, snapping back and sending Anora stumbling backward.

She glares up at the cocoon, rubbing her hands together. “This magic is powerful, more powerful than mine. But Carla’s fine. It’s just a messaging spell. We just have to wait until the message is received.”

Anora looks down at her hands, clearly bothered by the fact that her magic doesn’t work, but she quickly composes herself.

Selene approaches, holding several journals. Damon meets her halfway, taking the books from her hands.

“Let’s all go sit down and wait for the spell to pass,” he suggests, his voice calm and practical. “We won’t know anything until it does.”

Everyone moves toward the seating area, but Anora and I remain, watching Carla float encased in the magical web cocoon. The pink strands continue to pulse with that strange heartbeat rhythm, occasionally sending out smaller threads that reach toward the ceiling before retracting.

Anora stares up at it, her brow furrowed in concentration. “This magic is more powerful than dark magic,” she murmurs. “What the fuck is this?”

I grin at that, amused by her frustration but unable to share it. Whatever’s happening, Kemnebi seemed unconcerned. And if anyone would know if Carla was in danger, it would be her children.

All I can do now is wait—and hope that whatever message Tabatha has for my mate, it brings us closer rather than driving us apart.

44

Carla

Darkness. Complete, consuming darkness.

I’m standing in nothing. Existing in nothing. There’s no light, no warmth, no sound except my own breathing, carrying on in the stillness of this void. This must be limbo—a place where unwanted souls are trapped, neither welcome in hell nor desired back by Mother Fate or the human god.

I try to look around but there’s nothing to see, just endless black stretching in all directions. The emptiness closes in, cold and isolating. It’s worse than any punishment I could imagine—at least in hell there would be something. This is just... nothingness.

“Hello?” I call out, my voice small and frightened. The word bounces back at me, repeating until it fades into nothing. “Is anyone here?”

I keep walking, though I’m not sure if I’m actually moving or just thinking I am. The ground beneath my feet—if there even is ground—feels neither solid nor insubstantial. It’s just... there. Or not there. I can’t tell.

Cold seeps into my bones. Not the physical cold of winter, but something deeper, a spiritual chill that reaches into my very essence. Loneliness crashes over me in waves. Fear crawls through me, slow and steady. Have I trapped myself here? Will I never see Amari again?

“Limbo isn’t much to look at, I know,” a voice suddenly calls out from somewhere in the darkness.

I freeze, fear prickling across my skin. My eyes dart around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice, but the darkness remains impenetrable.

Looking down, relief floods through me as I spot Moria and Kemnebi at my feet. I drop to my knees instantly, reaching for Moria who scuttles up my arm to rest against my chest in her familiar position. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, and the tears come without warning.

“Am I stuck here?” I sob, clutching Moria tighter. “Will I get back to Amari? Please, I need to get back to him.”

Moria taps her legs against my skin, sending images that spell out “wait.”