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“Spells. He might place a seal on your power in order to keep you from accidentally using it.”
“And that is bad, why?”
“It would keep you from being able to intentionally use it.”
“Huh.” Turning yet another page, I stumble upon the rules about faerie truths and lies. The fae can only speak the truth, but they can misdirect using their words, actions, and tone. Single word answers to questions are unreliable unless the full statement is provided. They can lie freely in text. Interesting. “Am I magic? Can I do magic right now if I just knew what sort of magic I could do?”
“I am uncertain. I believe…perhaps.”
“I should jump off a roof and see if I can fly…”
Pollux grunts. “I would not recommend that. I would also not recommend trying to discover your abilities until after you have found more peace in all of this. It is imperative you regain peace in yourself. For some fae, emotions impact results. For most, they impact control. You are part human, so your physical body is fragile. Misfires can be lethal.”
Yikes. “Is there a chance I accidentally shed my humanity like Alana did?”
“Alana did not shed her humanity accidentally. She discovered a truth in the face of many lies she once believed and chose to embrace it over the falsehoods. When you become fully fae, your humanity will not be something you mourn.”
My stomach dips. “When, huh? Not if?”
“You are mine. It is inevitable that you will not leave me at the end of a human lifespan.”
Lowering my hand to an embroidered candle on my brightly-sewn skirt, I trace the wick. Over and over. “Oh. Okay.” There’s a section on soulmates, so I skip over there and skim the pages.
Each soul only has one mate. There are no replacements if that mate passes. One does not decide who their mate is. The only choice each faerie has is whether or not to accept the call of the bond and trust that soulmates are paired in perfect ways.
It’s anxiety-inducing to think about.
It’s anxiety-inducing to feel.
As it stands, I am painfully attracted to Pollux. The way he looks. The way he thinks. Every sliver of his character that I’ve uncovered has made me like him more—in spite of the red flags I perceived at the start of this whole mess.
Heck, even just the way he pleaded with me last night to forgive him for putting his daughter first squeezed my heart. Like his ideals and morals were crafted specifically to do things to me.
I’ve been fighting a losing battle against myself during wakefulness and literally begging him to make me his in the absence of reality’s stress.
This…is happening.
One way or another, this is happening.
I’m a faerie’s soulmate, and we’re going to be in a relationship that goes further than the scandals of my dreams.
It’s inevitable.
And it’s freaking me out in ways I’m not sure I know how to decipher.
The universe arranged-marriaged me. Apparently that happens to unassuming elementary school teachers just trying to make it through the holiday season. Awesome. Cool. No problem. Love that for me.
I tear my gaze off the pages and work on my breaths. I’m calm. Like a trickling stream. I’m calm. Like a teacher staring down a parent who is upset I showed an episode of I Love Lucy during a rainy day recess.
Everything is fine.
Life is life, and we just deal.
I am so unbelievably tired it isn’t even funny…
“So…” I begin. “I…appreciate all the time and effort you put into this. May I take it home and review further?”
“Of course.”
