by C L Walker
“Because it can’t be her!” I stood up and paced the length of the bench.
“Micah, you don’t have the gift of telepathy or empathy beyond what is normal, so you know there is only one reason as to why you can hear this girl’s thoughts. She is your blood mate.”
“So, it’s her?” I asked. “Just like that…now I’m also mad Grandpa got himself killed because I would have never moved to Black Creek again if he hadn’t died and left me his cabin.”
“Well, I have decided that I am no longer mad at him because maybe this is why his time came to a close, so that your life could truly begin.”
And it begins with her!?
“Huh?” I asked incredulously. “But just a minute ago you were complaining about him again!”
She pursed her lips and rose her eyebrows when I dared to challenge her.
“Women are fickle,” I mumbled.
“A lot could be said of men as well,” she drawled. “We have you who came here just to be told something you already knew to be true, not only after your mom explained it to you, but you also knew it within your heart already. Now that’s what I call stubborn.”
“Oh, wow, so you and mom had a good laugh about my situation, did you?”
“Yes, she was here not long before you.”
I crossed my arms. “You could have told me that you already knew.”
“Where is the fun in that?” She cracked a devious smile. “Anyway, let’s get back to the point child, and that is that this girl is the one, and soul ties are not a myth despite what you have convinced yourself.”
“But how can it be? All I know how to do is make her angry, and I do it on purpose just so I can–” I stopped myself because I hated to admit how I had behaved.
“So you can hear the truth of her heart and hear her pleas.” She paused before she furthered in a tone that let me know she didn’t approve. “Also, I’m assuming to get less respectable reactions out of her.” She gave me a disapproving look. “I guess you are like your Grandpa.”
I chuckled lightly at how uncomfortable she appeared over the thought. “Oh, come on I can’t help it because–”
“She’s the one.”
Right.
The realization slapped me in the face and everything I had been feeling multiplied until it threatened to consume me. The things I felt for a girl who was largely unknown to me beyond the bits I got from her thoughts was disgusting.
Being a spiritual creature was a bitch.
“Damn it, she can’t be.”
Great Grandma, as old as she was–twelve hundred and thirty-six to be exact–still had the physical prowess to get to my side so fast that I couldn’t follow her movement. Before I knew what was happening, she smacked me upside the head. “You watch your mouth, Micah, and do not try to fight what nature has intended. You probably knew she was to be your mate the moment you laid eyes on her so your efforts to deny her are futile.”
I rubbed the back of my head and considered my misfortune. Skylar was a gorgeous little thing but the idea of spending my entire life with her was not pleasant especially since I had so many years ahead of me.
“Denial is a beautiful thing.”
“You are acting unwise.” She tsked. “We have taught you better than this.”
It’s true, I was taught better but as she said, and I wasn’t about to admit this much out loud, I was stubborn. I was only eighteen, I wasn’t trying to find my blood mate and I certainly didn’t want her to be a human girl that hated my guts when I did find her.
“Micah!” she hissed when I had gotten lost in my thoughts. “Am I right in assuming she is human?”
I nodded my head.
“Then I will speak to the ancestors tonight because you will need to make a decision about when to change her and they will provide you counsel.”
“Woah. Slow down. Change her?” I had forgotten all about the tiny little fact that I had to take her human life away so that she could live beside me for centuries to come.
A fated blood mate was the only human we could change but it still felt wrong, I would need to convince her to want it first or I couldn’t do it. And that was if I even wanted her, which I didn’t, my body was just a traitor.
“Yes, child, how do you expect to spend your life with her when she will be dead in less than a hundred years?”
“I’m not even so sure I should keep her,” I said, “and even if I did it would feel cruel to take her life after how she has lived.”
Great Grandma didn’t know anything about Skylar, so she looked at me in question and I held out my hand for her. She was a seer, she had the power to see the future and memories like a movie that flashed across her mind, but only when she was given permission to.
Her eyes closed as she gripped my hand tightly and after about thirty seconds, she nodded her head in acknowledgement of what I had showed her. I didn’t even have much because so much of Skylar’s suffering was still largely unknown to me.
“I understand your hesitation but what is seventeen bad years when compared to hundreds in near immortal bliss?” she asked. “She will get a chance to live as something powerful and nearly untouchable, she is lucky to have been born fated to a supernatural. That means she was destined not for a human life but for something more. And it is rare to find those we are fated to, some never do, and to do so, so young is fortunate indeed. Both of you will be thankful for it when the time comes.”
“Yes, Grandma,” I agreed because I had to, but it didn’t mean I was going to go out there and ask Skylar to be my girl when we didn’t like each other.
Besides, imagining how that would go down was hilarious and so cringe worthy.
Oh hey, you don’t know this, but we are fated to each other. Yeah, big concept huh? Anyway, I know you hate me and think I’m an asshole, and I can’t stand you either, but I will actually make you happier than any other man possibly could because, fate. Does that make sense?
She’d punch me in the dick for sure.
Great Grandma brought me out of my inner rant when she hugged me to her, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders in return as she said, “Don’t fret. I will look into things for you so that you may know how best to proceed.”
GREAT…
“Thank you,” I said.
She pulled away and stopped beneath the archway that led out of the courtyard. “Do not come here again without your robes, while you may live in a modern world it is different here. You are a warrior of our tribe, a prince of the realm even if you do not reside here yet, so you must look like one when you are here.”
“Okay,” I said without enthusiasm. Realm politics were a drag, there were so many rules to obey simply to appease a bunch of ancestors I didn’t even have clearance to see or speak to. I wasn’t even allowed beyond the courtyard because I wasn’t dead.
“Carry on, I’ll send a messenger for you when it is time.” She disappeared into the darkness and I returned to the Earth realm.
I was in a foul mood as I trekked through the forest. I spoke of Skylar’s anger but said nothing of my own, and it was harder to control when she was around. I was usually good at keeping my animalistic instincts in check, but she brought out the predator in me and I struggled not to rip apart everyone who had hurt her.
Because she was mine.
Mine?
No…
I picked up my speed and tore through the forest as I tried to release everything that was weighing me down. I was eighteen years old, and I had already found my blood mate, I had some luck.
There went my grand plans of at least five hundred years of bachelorhood and noncommittal relationships.
No one had told me about the emotional spillover, but I knew blood-mates were a thing because so many in my family had claimed to have found theirs, but still I hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it.
But Great Grandma had been right, somewhere inside of me I knew.
I had looked upon Skylar and without realizing, I had dec
lared her my own.
“Fuck!” I hissed as I skidded to a stop in front of my house.
I had to fight it.
It was dumb but I knew I’d keep being a dick to her to prove a point, that we didn’t like each other, and we never would.
Being fated to each other didn’t mean it was destined to work out, it just meant that if it did, if we both chose each other we would feel complete in a way we only could together. But I knew plenty of others in the tribe that had settled for partners that were not their blood mates and they seemed happy.
Except for Grandpa who wanted his, and never found her and look what happened to him…
“No, it doesn’t mean I will end up like him.”
There were a lot of if’s I had to consider, not everything was black and white despite what the tribe would have me believe. Control was still mine and if in the end she pissed me off too much I’d say fuck it and walk away.
Actually, I am already saying fuck it.
When I got inside the cabin, I decided to start right away because there was no reason to delay making sure I kept my freedom.
“Fate doesn’t know what it is talking about.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a cold breeze lift my hair and brush against my skin even though I was inside, and all the windows were closed. I rolled my eyes as I felt the will of fate wrap its fingers around my neck.
“Do your worst.” I stepped away and into the living room so I could grab my phone.
I was going to text her to confirm what I already knew, which was that we were not suited for each other. We couldn’t even get along for five whole minutes so I couldn’t begin to imagine what a thousand years on earth would be like with her, let alone the eternity we would share in the Dead Realm.
Me: What would you do if the average human lifespan was a thousand years?
I set my phone down because I didn’t expect a quick response or one at all because it was surely going to throw her off guard. Especially after I had been an asshole to her once again in the woods because I had failed to reel in my anger and lust.
I grabbed a drink out of the fridge before I returned to the living room and when I sat down my phone dinged. I picked it up with barely contained excitement as I expected a rude reply from her.
Princess: Kill you.
I couldn’t help but laugh, she had clearly gotten over her inability to respond to me as she was firing back in a way that made me think there was hope for her yet.
Me: That’s it? Just do it then, why do you need the longer lifespan?
Princess: Because punishment for voluntary manslaughter would take up a fourth of my years and that’s a long time to spend in prison. Now, if I had a thousand years to live, twenty years in prison would be well worth it. I’d turn myself in right away and get my punishment over with asap.
Wow. I knew it, giving her the chance to be powerful was a very bad idea. Not that she would be powerful enough to have a shot at killing me, as I was a natural born but her ass would probably try daily to end me. Her first task would be to make friends with a witch… I could see it all unfolding and I wasn’t about to live my life on the run from her.
Me: I didn’t realize you felt so passionately about me.
Princess: What do you want? Or was this it? Asking pointless questions…
Me: I wanted to make sure you’re going to work on the project this weekend because I’m going to start on it tomorrow and I’m not carrying you through this.
Princess: I already said I would.
Me: Good. Don’t you want to know what I’d do with a thousand years?
Princess: Not really…
Me: I’d probably travel the world and screw a lot of women.
After I sent the text a part of me regretted it, but there was no reason I should have felt some sense of guilt. She didn’t own me. Even though, truth be told the thought of sleeping with anyone else didn’t appeal to me, but I thought that it might once I moved on and wasn’t distracted by her presence.
Princess: Classy and original. I’ll start doing research tomorrow. Goodbye.
Me: Later, Princess.
All was right in the world.
She didn’t want to talk to me! In fact, she despised me, and would rather I not be around, and it was better that way.
Fuck you, fate.
Nine
Skylar
I woke up early Sunday morning to the sounds of things crashing but I wasn’t alarmed because I knew what it was. Jack and my mother were fighting but it was nothing I wasn’t accustomed to hearing on a regular basis.
It was only when I heard glass shatter that I started to worry but that was only because I was concerned for the few dishes we had left to use.
I put a robe on and tied my hair back with a sigh as I mentally prepared myself for the battle to get some food out of the kitchen.
When I stepped out of my room it was just in time to see Jack push her down. She tried to use the table for support, but it tipped, allowing everything to slide off before it snapped back as she crashed to the floor.
That was something new, I had never seen Jack physically harm my mother, and although I didn’t like her, I was against abuse. It didn’t matter who it was happening to, even though there was a small sliver inside of me that kept saying that it was what she deserved.
An eye for an eye.
And yet I still ran to her side, helped her stand and of course she shook me off immediately.
She brushed herself off and sneered at Jack who was standing stark still in front of his overturned chair and his eyes were also set on her.
The room was silent, I held my breath as I waited for whichever one of them would explode first.
“It’s been almost thirteen years Janey, when are you going to get over it?” he asked, and at that moment I recalled what day it was, so I took a hesitant step away from my mother.
“Heartless man!” She began to sob. “It doesn’t matter how long it has been!”
“Well, I’m tired of listening to you cry all the time!” He threw his hands up. “I’m tryin’ to eat a fuckin’ meal in peace and you’re over there sniffling about your son's birthday. But he ain’t got no birthday because he’s fuckin’ dead, ain’t that right, Janey?”
I was such a fool for forgetting it was his birthday, my brother Brian was almost exactly a year older than me and with my birthday coming up so soon I shouldn’t’ have forgotten. Especially given that my mother always raged after crying all day, just like she did on my dad’s birthday and the anniversary of their accident which happened to be on mine.
Holidays, birthdays, any celebrations of any kind were not welcome in her house for they were days to mourn.
My birthday was the worst of them all, it was a day I normally dreaded as it had become a day to fear, a day I spent in hiding.
The accident happened because my name had been spelt wrong on my cake, such a simple thing had changed my life forever. My dad and Brian had gone back to the store to get it fixed and on their way back home they got hit by a drunk driver and pushed right over a siderail into a ravine below. They didn’t even make it to the hospital and were both declared dead at the scene.
My mother stopped celebrating my birthday the very next year after they had died, she told me that I was too old for gifts anyway. I had only been six years old.
On the first anniversary of their death, I had spent the whole day in my room crying with an old paper birthday hat on as I prayed for them to come back, not knowing that such a thing was impossible.
The first couple of years my mother did nothing but cry, but she was still loving at times, well as much as she knew how to be. My dad had been better at that sort of thing, he was the one I ran to, but she tried, and I never doubted her love for me until they were gone.
But once they were, she forgot how to function, how to take care of me and everything else.
I couldn’t remember where we had lived but I often dreamed of a big blue house with a swing se
t in the back yard and I always pictured Brian and I back there on the swings as my dad pushed us.
When I thought of that house it always made me feel a warmth that I wasn’t sure was ever real, because I didn’t know that our family was as good as my memory made it out to be.
When I was seven, we packed up her station wagon and drove for days until we ended up in Black Creek and that is where we stayed.
She never took me back to see any of our family and they never showed up either. I had a grandma, grandpa, aunt, and cousins somewhere, but I hadn’t seen them since I was little, and I couldn’t even recall what they looked like.
Mother always said that family means nothing in the face of tragedy. She insisted that they were all fake smiles and judging eyes that asked her to pick up the pieces of something she already knew wouldn’t go back together. So, she left and forbade me from so much as asking questions about them and of course I tried anyways but it never turned out well for me.
Considering who she had become made it hard to believe our lives were ever supposed to be different. I was supposed to grow up in a home with an older brother and two loving parents. But everything changed, because of one person who decided to drive after having one too many beers. One choice shifted my future and with a mother that never adjusted, I might as well have died with them.
As I said she was a lot better when I was younger, and I think it was because she had been sad back then rather than sad and angry. She drank a lot and cried all the time, but she took care of me and spent time with me.
She would come into my room at night, hold me tightly while she cried, and I’d put my arm around her and tell her everything was going to be okay. We would fall asleep like that and when I’d wake up in the morning, she’d still be passed out next to me so I would slip out and get myself ready for school.
I didn’t hate her back then, there were even moments when I was thankful for her. I thought that she would make everything okay because she was strong, and that her being broken was just a small flaw in an otherwise beautiful package.
But as I got older, she drank more and more and got angrier, until her sadness was overshadowed with contempt and when I was nine years old, she started taking it out on me verbally shortly before it turned worse.
