Page 51
Story: Dark Rover's Luck
Fenella laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. "Who knows? Jasmine's an actress, Kyra's a rebel fighter, and both of them have these weird paranormal abilities they channel through strange objects." She waved a hand dismissively. "I have none of that. I'm the boring relative."
"I don't think so." Din's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'd say that you are the most fascinating of the three."
"Thank you." She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. "I don't know if Bridget told the Clan Mother yet, but even before the revelation, the goddess thought it was significant that Kyra and I were found together. She told Kyra that it wasn't a coincidence and that it must mean that my help was needed to find Khiann. She thinks I should work with Kyra and Jasmine to look for him."
Din stopped walking, his expression shifting to something more somber. "Khiann is dead. He has been dead for over five thousand years."
She frowned. "The Clan Mother thinks that Khiann is in stasis, buried under the sands in the Arabian Desert."
Din shook his head. "According to clan lore, he was beheaded by Mortdh. I wasn't aware that assumption has changed."
"Well, apparently it has," Fenella said. "I don't know all the details of how and why, but it has something to do with Syssi's visions."
"Ah." He nodded. "That piece of information explains it. I'm surprised that the news hasn't made it to Scotland yet."
Fenella suddenly feared that she'd said too much. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything about that, so please, don't tell anyone."
"I won't," he promised. "I'm happy to hear that there is a chance Khiann might be found. I've always felt sorry for the Clan Mother and how lonely she seemed despite her warm smiles and the love she showed all of us. Never finding a true love mate is sad but finding him and losing him is tragic."
She looked at Din from under lowered lashes. "You're a romantic, aren't you?"
He smiled. "Why do you say so?"
"Because only romantics believe in fated mates and all that crap."
He looked offended. "Fated mates are real, and you've met them. Kyra and Max, Jasmine and Ell-rom, Syssi and Kian, and many others. Those matings are unlike what you are familiar with from the human world. When immortals meet their one and only, they know. It's a connection that feels deep from day one. There's a recognition on a soul-deep level. It transcends physical attraction or compatibility—it's a matching of essences."
There was so much conviction in his voice, such passion, that Fenella didn't feel like she should say anything to dispute it. She hadn't expected this level of romanticism from him.
"That's a lovely sentiment," she said noncommittally.
"Just think about it. Jasmine and Ell-rom—two people from entirely different species, and yet Jasmine felt the pull of Ell-rom's soul across continents, and when they met, their souls recognized each other instantly. Do you think it was a coincidence? Just consider how incredibly improbable that was for them to find each other. Talk about star-crossed lovers."
"Well, when you put it like that, it's hard to argue with."
He looked relieved that she stopped trying to argue against the existence of fated mates. "I think there's a reason I couldn't forget you for fifty years," Din said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why no other woman ever measured up, why I felt compelled to come running the moment I heard you'd been found."
Fenella looked away, her chest tight with emotions she wasn't ready to acknowledge. "That's a lovely sentiment," she repeated, trying to keep her voice light. "But fifty years is a long time to build something up in your imagination. The reality of me is bound to disappoint."
"I'm a historian and an archaeologist, Fenella," Din said. "I deal in facts and evidence, not imagination or wishful thinking. And the evidence is that despite having only met you briefly half a century ago, I've been unable to shake the connection I felt to you—even when I believed you were human and therefore lost to me forever."
His words resonated in a way that both thrilled and terrified her. Part of her wanted to believe, to surrender to the possibility that something cosmic and beautiful had drawn them together across time and space. But the skeptical part balked at the notion.
"I don't know if I can believe in destiny," she admitted. "Not after everything I've been through. Chaos rules. Trust me on that."
"I'm not asking you to believe just yet," Din said. "It's okay to be skeptical. But just to be open to the possibility."
"I suppose I can suspend disbelief for the time being," she conceded.
Din's lips curved into a smile. "That's progress."
As they resumed their walk toward the bar, Fenella studied Din from the corner of her eye, trying to reconcile the passionate believer in cosmic love with the overly serious, scholarly guy she'd first taken him for.
"Does Max know that you are such a romantic?" she asked.
He laughed. "I don't think he does but given how hard and fast he fell for Kyra, I'd say that he's a romantic himself."
"Good point."
"I don't think so." Din's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'd say that you are the most fascinating of the three."
"Thank you." She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. "I don't know if Bridget told the Clan Mother yet, but even before the revelation, the goddess thought it was significant that Kyra and I were found together. She told Kyra that it wasn't a coincidence and that it must mean that my help was needed to find Khiann. She thinks I should work with Kyra and Jasmine to look for him."
Din stopped walking, his expression shifting to something more somber. "Khiann is dead. He has been dead for over five thousand years."
She frowned. "The Clan Mother thinks that Khiann is in stasis, buried under the sands in the Arabian Desert."
Din shook his head. "According to clan lore, he was beheaded by Mortdh. I wasn't aware that assumption has changed."
"Well, apparently it has," Fenella said. "I don't know all the details of how and why, but it has something to do with Syssi's visions."
"Ah." He nodded. "That piece of information explains it. I'm surprised that the news hasn't made it to Scotland yet."
Fenella suddenly feared that she'd said too much. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything about that, so please, don't tell anyone."
"I won't," he promised. "I'm happy to hear that there is a chance Khiann might be found. I've always felt sorry for the Clan Mother and how lonely she seemed despite her warm smiles and the love she showed all of us. Never finding a true love mate is sad but finding him and losing him is tragic."
She looked at Din from under lowered lashes. "You're a romantic, aren't you?"
He smiled. "Why do you say so?"
"Because only romantics believe in fated mates and all that crap."
He looked offended. "Fated mates are real, and you've met them. Kyra and Max, Jasmine and Ell-rom, Syssi and Kian, and many others. Those matings are unlike what you are familiar with from the human world. When immortals meet their one and only, they know. It's a connection that feels deep from day one. There's a recognition on a soul-deep level. It transcends physical attraction or compatibility—it's a matching of essences."
There was so much conviction in his voice, such passion, that Fenella didn't feel like she should say anything to dispute it. She hadn't expected this level of romanticism from him.
"That's a lovely sentiment," she said noncommittally.
"Just think about it. Jasmine and Ell-rom—two people from entirely different species, and yet Jasmine felt the pull of Ell-rom's soul across continents, and when they met, their souls recognized each other instantly. Do you think it was a coincidence? Just consider how incredibly improbable that was for them to find each other. Talk about star-crossed lovers."
"Well, when you put it like that, it's hard to argue with."
He looked relieved that she stopped trying to argue against the existence of fated mates. "I think there's a reason I couldn't forget you for fifty years," Din said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why no other woman ever measured up, why I felt compelled to come running the moment I heard you'd been found."
Fenella looked away, her chest tight with emotions she wasn't ready to acknowledge. "That's a lovely sentiment," she repeated, trying to keep her voice light. "But fifty years is a long time to build something up in your imagination. The reality of me is bound to disappoint."
"I'm a historian and an archaeologist, Fenella," Din said. "I deal in facts and evidence, not imagination or wishful thinking. And the evidence is that despite having only met you briefly half a century ago, I've been unable to shake the connection I felt to you—even when I believed you were human and therefore lost to me forever."
His words resonated in a way that both thrilled and terrified her. Part of her wanted to believe, to surrender to the possibility that something cosmic and beautiful had drawn them together across time and space. But the skeptical part balked at the notion.
"I don't know if I can believe in destiny," she admitted. "Not after everything I've been through. Chaos rules. Trust me on that."
"I'm not asking you to believe just yet," Din said. "It's okay to be skeptical. But just to be open to the possibility."
"I suppose I can suspend disbelief for the time being," she conceded.
Din's lips curved into a smile. "That's progress."
As they resumed their walk toward the bar, Fenella studied Din from the corner of her eye, trying to reconcile the passionate believer in cosmic love with the overly serious, scholarly guy she'd first taken him for.
"Does Max know that you are such a romantic?" she asked.
He laughed. "I don't think he does but given how hard and fast he fell for Kyra, I'd say that he's a romantic himself."
"Good point."
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