Page 7 of Redemption (Deliverance Duet #2)

Chapter Six

Nyx

P ain racks my body, shooting through my nerves with the fury of the Fates. A vice-like grip seizes me as I am bound with three glittering rings of power. To the untrained eye, they might appear as metal bands, but I know better. They are threads from the loom that weave our path.

I have broken their rules, and now they are going to punish me for it.

Usually being called by the Fates isn’t so painful—uncomfortable, yes, since they are sadists and like to make me suffer—but this is like being stabbed repeatedly and crushed simultaneously. I might enjoy a little pain every now and again, but this is something different altogether.

Most will never meet the Fates, and they should be grateful for that. These three females are powerful beyond comprehension and literally weave our destiny. Throwing a little chaos into the mix is not something I would rule them incapable of doing. Millennia of doing the same thing must get boring, and these are not benevolent beings.

Unfortunately, in my line of work, I have worked with them on occasion, usually when someone is trying to mess with their fate. Until Iris came into the picture, I’d never been the one to face their ire.

After I blatantly disobeyed the rules by bringing Iris back to life and consequently refused to make it right by taking her soul, I then continued to make things worse for myself by ignoring their calls. It seems they are done asking, and instead of just forcing me to attend them, they have decided to torture me and bring Iris too.

“Nyx!” Iris gasps, reaching for me as the land surrounding us melts from view, our vision blinded by a bright light as we are transported to the Fates.

“Whatever you do, stay beside me and don’t look into their cauldron,” I instruct her as quietly as I can, the pain of my bindings making it difficult to speak, but I would walk across broken glass to make sure she is safe. My arms clench around her as I feel the slight tremble in her limbs. She’s terrified, but she’s holding firm.

A solid surface appears before my vision returns and the realm materialises before us. It’s a familiar scene and nothing has changed, including what the three females are currently doing.

The Fates reside inside a cave in a strange realm full of dangers, but the worst of these are the swirling visions contained by their cauldron. Witnessing so many possibilities and futures is too much for the human mind to comprehend and would drive Iris to madness.

A large wooden loom takes up most of the space in the cave, and three cloaked figures are busy working on it, not paying attention to our arrival. One works on the loom itself, weaving the fate of a soul while humming quietly under her breath, and one of her sisters works on the threads, ensuring they are correct. The final fate stands over a large cauldron that bubbles in the corner, cooing and chuckling as she stirs the contents with a large ladle. The threads of fate come from within the cauldron. Whatever the Fates see within somehow mixes together to form the threads, which are then woven into a tapestry depicting the life of a soul. Honestly, I don’t really understand it much beyond this, and I’ve never had the desire to know more. Messing with destiny has a way of coming back and biting you in the ass.

I’ve never seen the Fates’ true appearance before, their cloaks always hiding their faces. On top of this, they seem to change, sometimes appearing as young women, and on other occasions, they are old crones, barely more than withered husks.

Iris looks around with wide eyes, and I can’t imagine how alien this must all feel. She stiffens beside me as her eyes land on the cauldron and then quickly looks away, following my advice. The bands surrounding me release as swiftly as they appeared, almost sending me careening forward, but I manage to catch myself.

“Ladies,” I greet sardonically, brushing down my shirt and frowning at the creases in the fabric. Making a noise of annoyance, I lift my head and narrow my eyes on them, still busy with their tasks. “Was that really necessary?”

“You were going to ignore us,” a young, childlike voice calls out from behind the hood of the female working on the loom.

Even though I’ve been around the Fates before, it still unsettles me when they talk of my future actions. She’s not wrong, I would have ignored them like I had with most of their other summons recently.

“Nyx…” Iris shifts awkwardly beside me, her voice trailing off with uncertainty.

“Greetings, Iris Bloom of Brine, lady of the realm of death, mate of the heir to the Seelie throne and the god of death.” All three Fates speak at the same time, creating a strange echo around us, their voices completely devoid of emotion. None of them turn from their work, only adding to the ominous atmosphere.

Lady of the realm of death. That didn’t take them long to adopt. I don’t know if I should be pleased or disturbed by this, but I can’t deny that I’m not filled with a possessive sense of satisfaction. Iris, the lady of death.

“Oh,” she replies, thrown at being addressed as such. She clearly doesn’t know how to respond, but her kindness requires her to reply. “Um, hello.” Biting on her lip, she flashes me a look that begs for help before dipping into an awkward curtsy, her cheeks flushing. “It’s lovely to meet you, but could you please tell me why I’m here?”

If we were back at my home, I would smile at her graciousness towards the Fates, but we are not, so I settle for watching her fondly instead, keeping my mask firmly in place. There’s no hiding behind my shadows here, as all magic is stripped on arrival into the realm, so I have to rely on myself and my control over my features.

“Yes,” I respond dryly, inspecting my nails as though all of this is dull and does not concern me in the slightest. “This is something I would like to know too.”

The fate at the cauldron turns enough so I’m able to see her withered hands clutching the ladle. “Death broke the rules, and now he has to pay the price.” Her voice matches her appearance, croaking yet full of power.

“What does that mean?” Iris asks, surprising me with her courage. She’s faced with these females who are clearly dangerous, goddesses in their own right. Her voice shakes slightly, and I can feel her anxiety, but she stands firm.

The other sister beside the loom speaks, her voice smooth and even. “He brought you back from the dead, child. Your life cord had been cut, whether justly or not.” She turns and looks at Iris, the first to do so. “Death is not something you can avoid.”

The hood of her cloak hides most of her features, but what I can see is the face of a middle-aged woman and glowing eyes. Iris jerks, her body automatically trying to take her out of the path of danger, a completely normal human reaction to meeting a fate. She takes a deep breath to steady herself and steps closer to me instead of backing away.

“It was not her time to die,” I say, needing to take the attention off her. “I am able to intervene in those cases.” Summoning all of the divine rights I possess and godly authority, I stare the figures down. “Why would you bind me to her only for her to die?”

The words come out bitter, and so be it. I am bitter and disappointed, confused and aggrieved. None of this makes sense to me. Why bring two people together, only to separate them when they finally realise what they are to each other? It’s setting us up for failure. Mate connections are precious in a way that is beyond understanding, and taking that away before it can begin is unjust and cruel. I want to surge forward and rage at the wrongness of it all, but with Iris here, I have to keep myself under control, which I realise is exactly why they brought her.

I reach out and place my hand on the small of Iris’s back, instantly feeling grounded.

“You know that soul connections are above our authority. We have no say in who is bound, we simply do the binding,” the young, child-like voice of the fate at the loom explains, the high-pitched innocence at complete odds with the gravity of what is being said. Her hands never stop weaving, her back to us as she continues her task. “Besides, you are the god of death. You could have lived together in death forever.”

If only it was that simple. That never would have worked. She would have simply been a soul that was drawn to me because of who I am and the power I hold over her, like all the souls who reside in that realm do. I could never have a relationship with a soul, it is unethical. Besides, I need Iris to want me because she loves me, not because she’s forced to. She deserves a real chance at living.

“Iris wasn’t meant to die,” I grit out, needing them to acknowledge it.

All three of the Fates suddenly stop what they are doing and face me. It’s eerie, and even I have to admit that I’m a little intimidated by the silent figures staring at me. “It was not her time to die,” they agree, their voices blending as they speak in unison. “There are those who seek to speed up destiny and not wait for the natural order of things.”

I was right. Of course, I am always going to think that any time with Iris isn’t enough and that it wasn’t her time, but I knew something else was happening and her death was wrong. As a defender of the underworld and the dead, I also protect those whose time has not yet run out. I wasn’t there to protect Iris and stop this from happening, so in my mind, my actions were just. Even if they weren’t, I would have made the same decision, consequences be damned.

Now that this has been confirmed, it leads me to the next matter of business—who has been meddling with fate?

“The King of the Seelie.” Bile burns my tongue as I speak the name with disgust. The male has a target on his back, his days now numbered. Do I care that he is a king? Not in the slightest. He could be a god and still not be safe from my wrath.

The middle-aged figure holds up a hand in warning. “Do not be hasty, for there is more at stake here than you know.”

What in the underworld does that mean? Are more fae involved, or are they telling me that the king isn’t actually the threat?

“Meaning?” I growl, anger and frustration over their cryptic words pushing me to the edge. It is never wise to ignore a warning from the Fates.

The three females share a look, and although I cannot see their faces, I know they are silently communicating with each other. As one, they turn to face us, but their attention is on Iris. “Girl, you were created for a purpose, and you were never able to complete that. What say you?”

I still, realising that her answer will decide the outcome of this conversation, tension causing my body to become rigid. This question is loaded. They just confirmed that she was supposed to do something back in the realm of the living, and it sounds like they are actually considering allowing her to live.

“I have no idea what I’m doing or what my true purpose is, but I know I am needed back in the human realm. There is a pull inside me beyond that of my mate bonds.” Iris looks at the Fates one at a time as she speaks, her voice ringing with honesty despite her confusion with everything that’s happening to her.

The three Fates share a look once more.

“Nyx, god of death,” the youngest fate calls, and I find her glowing eyes fixed on me. “You are meddling in your own fate. Look.” She gestures for me to come forward and points towards another loom that I hadn’t seen until now. It contains a piece that is made up of very dark greys and blacks. As I look to where she’s pointing, I see a hole.

“Messing with the balance of life and death has an effect on the soul, including yours. Any more, and you shall start to unravel,” the crone says from her cauldron. “Because of the importance of the lady, we shall not force you to return her soul.”

I bare my teeth at the idea. “Good, because that is never happening.”

“Careful,” the middle-aged one coos in a sing-song voice. “We still control your fate. Return the girl to the land of the living.”

There is no room for disagreement in the command, but I do anyway.

“No.” There is not a chance in the underworld that I would give her up now, not when the dangers above are still so prevalent. I’m selfish, I want her to myself, but ultimately, I need to keep her safe.

Pain hits me so hard that I bend at the middle, a pained cry ripped from my lips. Iris calls my name beside me, her small hand on my arm as she tries to help me. The agony is so strong that I cannot answer her question, but this is nothing compared to the pain of when Iris died. I survived that, so I can withstand this.

“Do as we say,” the Fates demand in unison. “Bow to us.”

“I am a god. I will only bow to her,” I grit out through clenched teeth, meaning every word. I feel Iris’s shock at my comment, but she doesn’t challenge me. To my immense surprise, neither do the Fates.

A small hand wraps around my wrist, instantly calming me before I can say anything else and get into more trouble. Glancing down, I see her earnest expression, her eyes pleading. “Nyx, we need to go back. Something big is going to happen, and I need to be there, I can feel it.” She presses her hand against her chest.

She looks so lost, separated from her purpose, and now she’s been told she needs to return, which is exactly what she wants. If I’m honest with myself, I know this is what she needs. After everything we have been through, I am terrified of losing her, and letting go might be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do.

“You should listen to your mate,” one of the Fates advises, but I don’t know which as my entire focus is on my mate.

Reaching out, I gently cup her cheek, committing her features to memory. In order to protect her, I have to send her somewhere unsafe. It doesn’t seem right, but if I refuse, the Fates will make things difficult for her. Reluctantly, I drop my hand. I know what I need to do.

“I shall return her to the realm of the living, but only when she is fully recovered.” I continue to stare into my mate’s eyes as I speak, lost in the depths of her hazel orbs, but now I turn my head enough to look at the Fates, and my expression loses all warmth. “You should know that when it comes to Iris, I will break the rules to keep her safe.”

It’s not so much of a threat as it is a warning. It’s never wise to threaten the Fates. I can promise them, though, that if anyone tries to take Iris from me again, I shall do whatever I can in my power to stop that from happening, including bringing her back to life once more.

I feel thoroughly put out by this whole interaction, and I’m more than ready for the two of us to leave. I pull my reason for existence against my chest, wrapping us both in my shadows and willing my magic to take us back to my realm. Darkness swallows us like a comforting blanket, and the cave around us begins to fade away, only something doesn’t feel right. Glancing around, I see that we are still firmly standing on the rocky ground of the Fates’ cave as though an invisible anchor is holding us down. There’s nothing wrong with my magic, I can sense it trying to do my bidding, yet we don’t move.

Sensing that something is amiss, Iris glances up at me, her brow puckering and her lips parting, no doubt to ask what is holding us up. Before she can do that or I can start raging at the meddling Fates who are stopping our departure, a wave of their magic ripples through the space, their bodies bowing in unison with the power of it. Standing upright, they lift their heads and look directly at the woman in my arms.

“Iron, blood, and power,” the Fates speak, their voices blending together in an eerie tone devoid of emotion. Power ripples through each of their words, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end, and I realise with growing horror that they are seeing into the future. “One will kill, one shall bring freedom, and the other could destroy all. Flowers are easily demolished, but they are the first to grow on the battlefield. Discover your true self and decide the fate of them all.”

It's another damned prophecy, and there is no doubt they are talking about Iris. Flowers are easily demolished … No, I won’t let this happen. I have to find a way to keep her safe.

The magic in the room fades, and the three cloaked figures sag forward, drained. Before anyone can stop us, I focus on my powers, and we are surrounded by my comforting darkness before disappearing from the realm of the Fates.