~Alaya
I don’t know how I figured he was Fate. It just seemed… obvious.
Never before have I seen eyes so dark, yet so full of life. Like midnight, with brilliant, glimmering stars within the ebony sky. Each star, however, holds a secret that I have no interest in revealing, for my safety. Instead, I concentrate on the unorthodox colour of his hair; like a cobalt blue all mussed before his eyes.
The myths of Fate in childhood stories were always blurred, or left out. It was always easier to talk about the Moon Goddess, who was sweet, beautiful and treasured. Rather that than Fate, a creature who manipulates and controls.
He is oddly more attractive than what I remember being described to me at school. Millennium’s of life should have taken a toll on him by now, yet he looks untouched to age. His skin is smooth and unlined, and he seems to have a youthful glow about him, that should have vanished years before my greatest ancestors existed.
That is, if he wasn’t immortal.
“I never really took pleasure in viewing females in ceremonial outfits like that,” he muses, “although I must admit, that dress it very becoming of you, Alaya.”
The use of my name send shivers along my skin, the fine hairs on the back of my neck sticking up. I’m not sure why, though. He works for them all; Aspen, Asher, Death. Yet he’s unnerving, as he stares at me, his gaze not relenting for a single second.
“Fate,” I murmur, trying not to come off as intimidated.
“I understand you accepted Asher’s offer to waltz straight into the arms of our biggest enemy,” Fate muses, and I swallow uncomfortably. “Explain to me how an average female such as yourself would be willing to do such a thing, for people she has just met, in a land where she has never stepped foot in?”
I’ve been asking that same question as I slid the dress on, but it all came down to one thing. “If I don’t do this, my old life won’t be restored. I don’t think you understand how important that is to me.”
Fate stepped into the room, past Death, who was silently regarding our conversation. Maybe Fate is surprised that I’m talking back to him, since we only just met and he’s well… Fate after all. He’s not the strangest thing I have encountered during my time here. And everyone in the Desire Pack believes in Fate anyway, as some kind of excuse to get away with all the activities they get up to everyday.
“Even I fear Sinful,” Fate says carefully, standing still in the middle of the room, right in the reflection in the mirror so I could see him but not completely face him.
I look him in the eye, as I say with mild spite, “you were the ones who went against Asher’s wishes to send me elsewhere, with no memory. I would like an explanation as to why I’m standing here right now, clearly in a place where I don’t belong.”
There’s a heavy silence, as Death backs away and leaves the room. I wish I could do the same thing too, however, I’m not leaving until I get answers out of his mouth.
“We didn’t deem it fair,” he says slowly, as if contemplating his words as he said them. “This plan, I’m sure Asher has kept from you, would enable you to go home without any issues. You were meant to stay here, out of the way, yet it seems Asher has other ideas.”
“He said I wouldn’t be safe.”
“True,” Fate mutters, “yet we didn’t all agree with the Sinful route, I can assure you.”
I turn around, full facing him now. It seems as though this group is divided between what to do with me, and it is making me anxious. At the end of the day, I get to decide what happens, and I will do anything to get back to my sister, and save anymore innocent people from what that monster did to me. And so far, Asher has talked the most amount of sense, despite how distant he constantly seems.
I didn’t realise I was speaking out loud until Fate smiled doubtfully, running his hand down the back of his neck.
“You shouldn’t trust Asher. No one can tell if he is good or bad, and I doubt we will find out,” Fate says, glancing over his shoulder as if Asher would be there listening. “He has been working with Sinful for years. Sinful is bad, very bad, and we assume Asher has picked up on that. Had his soul infected.”
I’ve noticed the air of mystery that Asher shrouds himself in, which would be impossible to fight your way through.
“Are you afraid of him?” I question, “I thought you all worked together?”
“Asher likes to make things seem different to how they really are. You know that. You saw the way he wrote you those notes, stringing you along, getting you back to the party only to hide you away again,” fate explains, and I shiver.
He’s right. Disturbingly right.
There’s a fire in his eyes as he continues, “Asher wants his Pack back, yes, but I don’t doubt that his plan is different from our. I have a feeling he’s luring you into Sinful’s territory for another reason.”
I took a step back. While he was talking, he was taking cautious steps toward me, trying to convince me with each and every word. My mind was spiraling, trying to make sense of what to believe, and what not to. I’m talking to Fate, a master manipulator. But at the same time…
“You haven’t seen what he is capable of. Sinful gave him magic, and he hasn’t shown us. Of course, we have all met Sinful, but I can assure you that Asher would never have told us what he was like if we hadn’t.”
“I think I’ve heard enough,” I mutter, trying to brush past him but he grabbed me, pulling me still.
“Listen,” he seethed in my ear, “he’s already gotten in your head. If you don’t see that Alpha for what he really is, he will mess you around, spit you out and you’ll have nothing.”
I pull my arm away, my glare toward him with as much disdain in his eyes as I possibly could, before I muttered, “I’ll be the judge of that.”
***
Asher sat across from me.
I’m sure by now he’s noticed by staring, yet he makes no move to mention it. Fate’s words play in my mind, as I watch him, trying to see him for what he is, rather than what his sharp facial features and golden eyes show me. All I see is a picture of perfection, of sitting grace and intelligence. If Fate is true, this man holds it back quite well.
“How long will this take?”
Asher finally turns to look at me. The constant impassive look on his face is beginning to irritate me. The last time I saw him make a different expression was the other night, when we had first discussed this plan. Now, we sit on a strange train like device that leads us swiftly toward Sinful’s territory, underground. I’m back in the wedding dress, my makeup thick and innocent looking, with my hair pulled back off my shoulders.
“A while yet,” he replies flatly, looking back out the window of the train as if there is anything to see aside from darkness. No one else is in this capsule, which is strange considering it’s size.
And still, Asher sits right beside me. That’s the shocking part.
I sigh, “I meant this trip in general. How long will I be with Sinful for?”
“That depends on how long it takes for the rest of them to initiate the plan,” Asher replies, still not a single falter in his voice. So far, he has shown no interest in answering any of my questions that don’t involve this entire plot.
Because of this, I have had to come up with another way to get his attention onto what I would like to discuss.
“Why are you such a dick?”
There it is. Emotion. His eyebrows crease in the centre of his forehead, just slightly, but it gives me an idea that a thinking person is actually in that head of his. Even if it lasted a flicker, I felt a little accomplished. Quickly, I dive in with my next question.
“Fate doesn’t seem to like you all that much. He told me not to trust you,” I tell him, hoping that for once, he would actually answer my question.
“He’s right.”
It’s my time to have my eyebrows creasing in shock. “That would have been a nice thing to know before I agreed to do this.”
He doesn’t reply for awhile. Instead he just stares ahead, his face blank, but I see thought buzzing in his eyes. Without that simple look of life, I would naturally assume the magic here is affecting everyone. I can’t even get angry anymore, or fear. If I was home, I would be sweating with anxiety at the idea of what I’m about to do.
“You’re in this for yourself, I assume. I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” comes his reply. Finally.
“But I am worried. I’m worried about who I am going into this plan with. You’re supposed to protect me,” I remind him quickly. The promise was that no harm would come to me from Sinful. Asher would look after me. That was the main reason why I’m not so worried. Until now, I suppose…
An exhale of irritation comes next, and my heart skips a beat. I should stop being so invested in every show of emotion he makes.
“You can trust that no harm will come to you, yes,” he tells me, “I just don’t understand why you care about what others think of me. They all have good reason not to trust me, yet you don’t know me. Perhaps you will come to understand.”
That annoyed me.
“Understand? You’re not a very open person, if you haven’t realised,” I growl.
Asher patiently sits there, letting me seethe for a moment.
“Why don’t you just open up for once and explain things to people. None of them actually know you, and if they can’t I don’t expect myself to either. You could be evil for all I know!”
“No,” he says carefully, “you do know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stepped onto this train with me.”
“A part of me wants to trust you, for my sister.”
No more talk. At least that is what I assume is the deal, as he closes his mouth and goes silent. I stare at him, letting him know that I’m not done with this. I feel closed off from him, with the only way to reach through that concrete wall of adamant is with a plastic spoon. Or yell an insult through it.
“There are some secrets reserved for certain people. Some even Sinful can’t touch,” Asher says so quietly I almost don’t catch it.
I have to think about my next reply.
“Do you mean your mate?”
More silence, before suddenly, the train grinds to a stop, and I nearly lurch straight out of my seat. This dress doesn’t agree with the plastic underneath me.
“We have arrived,” Asher says, no excitement to his voice at all.
I stood, my white satin, pearl accented glove into the hand he offered. The main doors opened, yet I refused to look at them for a moment, instead staring at Asher. He looks down a me, as he says, “this is your stop.”
“Mine?”
“Yes, we cannot be seen together. I will meet you later,” he tells me, pushing me gently toward the doors of the train. Panic sets in, pounding at my chest as I try fight him back. He can’t leave me here… he can’t.
When my heels trip out the doors, I whirl around in time to see them close. Asher looks grim.
“Remember the plan,” is all he says, before he adds, “be yourself. Sinful will love you.”