Page 92 of A Match Made in Error

“Hey.” He waits until I look at him. “I’m not going anywhere. Bit late for that anyway.” He subtly nods to the faintly marked symbol of his bond. An iridescent tattoo just below his collarbone, visible only to me, that shows his devotion. Like the magic that it is, the faint shimmer of his bond, his promise, erases all my concerns. My body uncoils as he brushes hair from my face, his fingers lingering longer than usual.

“You’ve known how you felt about me for weeks, and yet you were able to keep your hands off me? I’m not even a day in, and that task seems impossible.” His hand finds its perch on my hip. “Honestly, I admire the restraint.”

“I know you’re joking, but honestly, it was hard sometimes.” I ease into his touch, moving until I’m straddling his lap and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

“So, speaking of honesty, I’m pretty sure I tied myself to you in a way that is going to make the Moirai deeply uncomfortable.” I can see the vulnerability in his eyes. Like he’s nervous I’ll be angry at him for an act he made in a moment of emotion. “So congratulations, you’re stuck with me and we’ve potentially made very powerful enemies.”

I swallow, readying my throat for the vulnerable words about to come out. “It’s worth it if you’re by my side through it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, lips tilted upward. A rare vulnerability is shining in his eyes.

“Yeah.” I nod. “More than worth it. Who needs the blessing of Fate when they’ve got you?”

The wrapping of his arms around me nearly takes my breath away. “I can’t believe I let you do the match ceremony twice without me.” He inhales deeply. “I’ve almost lost you so many times while I was hiding from myself.” He scoffs quietly, a smile deepening the lines around his full lips. “It would’ve been bad to have to kill the poor bastard once I finally came to my senses.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” I tease, relaxing into him, leaving all doubts behind us. This is good. This is what I’ve always wanted. Unwavering devotion and a best friend.

“There she is.” His fingers thread into my hair, holding my head to his chest. “I think a part of me knew I was yours for years…” He waits a beat, like her finding the words to finish. “I just didn’t realize you were mine too. That you’d want to belong to me. You just,” his voice cracks, “deserve so much better.”

I pull back, looking into his eyes as I say, “I want to be yours.”

The beginning of tears well in his eyes but refuse to fall. “Good, because only death would rid you of me now.”

I snort. “I’m sure you’d find a way to haunt me even if death did claim you.” Riven laughs, nodding his head in agreement. “Also…not to ruin the moment,” I look around conspiratorially, “but do you think there are still pirates on this island?”

“Maybe,” his arms tighten again, “but I’m choosing to ignore that.” He presses a kiss to my temple. Certain. “For now, everything is perfect.”

But like his words conjured something, the world around us shifts. His shadows go still, and the air tightens. The fire lights once more in a whoosh of heat. Riven tenses, moving until I’m behind him and he’s facing the only exit.

Light fractures around us, and I feel a sharp pull, not physically, but magically. Reality begins to fold around us until we’re holding hands in a starlit void of endless white. Threads of golden light, like threads of a great tapestry, weave around us. They fold over one another, twisting and knotting until the world materializes once more. A circular dais appears below us, facing the long and seemingly never-ending ocean. The other contestants stand scattered, confused as we are but seemingly unharmed.

The final breath I’d been holding since last night releases. Everyone is alive. My eyes pass over them, counting once and then another time for good measure. No injuries. No blood. No more pirates.

In the middle of us all, three figures form from light and shadow. The Maiden is sharp and bright, the Mother beside her warm and calm, and then the Crone curmudgeonly yet slightly amused. They all look equally unharmed, though like they’re harboring a scandalous secret. The scene around us, the beach at sunset, a swirl of pinks and blues, is beautiful but made slightly unsettling by the spectacle before us.

“Hello, matches,” the Crone welcomes. “Seems you’ve all survived your final trial.”

My mouth falls open, and I hear Riven’s soft laughter float into my ears. “Of course it was.” The pirate attack…was never real? A sharp intake of breath fills my lungs as I digest this new information.

The other contestants murmur around us, an emotional combination of disbelief and amusement. Well, Riven seems to be the only one amused, though he was also the only one capable of properly dealing with such an ordeal. I wonder where the rest of the contestants spent the night hunkered down.

Obviously, I’m stunned, but I think I understand. This attack, this trial, was the very thing that pushed Riven into seeing his true feelings. With a man like him, the danger of loss might have always been the only thing that could do that. And with that revelation, I begin to laugh. The pirate attack wasn’t a mistake. Come to think of it, I bet none of this was.

The Moirai’s attention and the attention of the rest of the contestants lock onto me.

“My being here wasn’t an administrative error, was it?” I ask, everything finally seeming so clear.

“Administrative error?” The Mother’s voice is soft and amused. “Oh, child. We don’t make errors.”

The Maiden cocks her head to the side, a smirk playing on her lips. “Your application was never misplaced.”

The Crone smiles, knowingly. “We plucked it. Once more. When he was ready.” She points subtly at Riven.

“Fate isn’t blind,” the Mother continues. “We knew the two of you were faking it. Trying to pull a fast one.” Somewhere, someone gasps. My face heats with shame. Of course Fate knew.

The Maiden’s eyes fall on Riven. “We were simply waiting for you to stop running from the truth, and when we saw the way you held her in the bar and defended her against that brute the day before matching, that’s when we knew.” They were watching that? My face heats. How often do they spy on us?

“You wanted her years ago,” the Crone says without hesitation. “We simply waited for you to grow brave enough to admit it, and when we felt you were close, we started magically prodding you to enter the Festival once more.” And suddenly, everything makes sense. I can see the heavy hand of Fate in it all. Riven alone would have never joined the Festival again. He needed Fate to intervene. The Crone smirks. “You didn’t think it was your idea, did you?”