"Ever since I was a kid," I began, twiddling my thumbs, "I've been able to see things other people can't see. I can... change things they can't change."

Calen nodded, lips pursed. "That's all part of being a witch, yes."

I huffed, rubbing at my temples. This was not how I meant for this conversation to go, but at least he wasn't freaking out yet.

Yet.

"No, I mean—" I cut off, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. "I mean that I can see the Threads of Fate."

I gave him the short explanation, as simple as I could make it.

I could see the Threads of Fate, the energetic ties that ran across the universe, that ran through every single life on earth, that moved and swayed with actions and reactions. I could change them, too. It was dangerous, sometimes, but I could change them if I tried.

I didn't like changing them, and I told him as much. I didn't go into details about why, though.

Calen, to his credit, sat calmly. He didn't run, he didn't scream, and he didn't ask me to do something stupid like change his fate so his hair would grow blonde tomorrow.

Before you ask, I've gotten that question before, too.

Calen was smarter than a lot of people I'd tried to tell in the past, though. He seemed to approach it rationally. He didn't ask many questions, just clarifying what the Threads looked like and if I could see my own— they were shimmery, and I could certainly see my own. Otherwise, he listened patiently as I fumbled through my nervous blabber about my magic, about the fact I didn't have many other impressive magic powers, and about how I really didn't want to use the abilities that some force of the universe had seen fit to give me.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"Might I make a suggestion?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Come stay with the Virginia Witches' Collective for a while. We can offer some measure of security between myself, the Sylvan advocates involved, and the other witches. We'll look out for you." Calen reached over and gave my hand a comforting, grounding squeeze.

"You guys have an official name now, huh?" I muttered, trying to think about how to tell him the rest of the offer.

"We do. Decided on it at the meeting after you left, but Sunday—" He put one hand under my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him. "You're avoiding something."

I pressed my lips into a tight line.

"The... Sylvan Council has formally offered me protection, too," I said slowly. "And after today, I think I need to consider their offer."

"The Sylvan Council?" Calen blinked furiously, shaking his head. "Did they send a summons?"

"Not a formal one, no." I decided to keep the news of Dante's involvement in this to myself for now. I wasn't really sure how much he was supposed to tell me, and I also didn't know how Calen might react to the idea that the Council had me under watch.

I trusted Dante to keep an eye out, but I didn't think Calen would put his faith in a Sylvan very quickly.

"Then you can always say no," he grumbled. "Unless they've summoned you formally, they can't do anything by force, and you're not even under Council rules by virtue of your ancestry—"

"Calen," I tried.

"Not to mention that we can protect you just as well as they can!" he continued. "There's no need to send you into the lion's den for information that we can get just as easily—"

"Calen!"

He stopped suddenly, finally focusing on my face. The annoyance melted away into concern as Calen muttered an apology under his breath and straightened his jacket.

"I just want you safe."

It warmed my heart.

"I would also like to be safe. That's why I'm going," I said firmly. "The Sylvan Council should have access to the history of any other Sylvans or witches with this power, and I can look for those while I'm there. It'll give me an edge to know a little more about how this all... works." I waved my hands vaguely as I spoke, not sure how to illustrate the pattern of the Threads that tied all life together.

It was overwhelming sometimes. It felt like there were more exceptions than rules, more bad endings than good ones. I needed to know, though. If someone was determined enough to orchestrate three attempts on my life within a week, I needed to know what was happening.

"You're sure about this?" Calen's tone was calm and careful, chin still resting on his hands as he stared. It was almost eerie how well he seemed to keep his cool, though I could see at least some kind of shock sitting underneath the surface.

"Barring any other sources of history on powerful magic, yeah." I paused, finally allowing myself to breathe again. "You're pretty... calm about it, compared to past reactions."

"I've seen a lot of weird things, more or less," he said noncommittally. "I'm not one to deny the existence of wild magical power, and I certainly don't doubt that people would kill for control of it. I'm more concerned that you're planning to meet the Sylvan Council about this alone, without any protection."

"I'll be fine," I said, shaking my head.

It wasn't like I had much of a choice. Dante was one of the few people in town I would consider a friend, and I didn't mind going with him. I wouldn't take my mom or my grandmother with me. And Callie...

Well. Wherever she was, she still wouldn't respond to my texts.

"I really care for you, Sunday," Calen said, reaching up to brush a stray pink-and-purple curl out of my face. "Please. Let me come with you."

I blinked. I really hadn't thought about the possibility of someone coming along, especially since part of the offer was for my protection.

The Sylvan Council and the Sylvan Court, from what I understood, functioned a little like England's government system. It was considered a constitutional monarchy, with both a royal lineage in the Sylvan Court and an elected Council that made decisions. I didn't think any of those government officials would be thrilled about the idea of letting an additional witch into their territory, though.

Even if he was my soul mate, I'd only known Calen a few days. Even if everything felt frustratingly and blissfully calm and right about him, I couldn't prove any of that if asked. We had our Witch's Marks, but that might not be enough.

"I'll ask," I conceded.

It was about all I could offer. Searching for something to do with my hands, I found myself fiddling with my black cardigan, rolling the long, slouchy sleeves up to my elbows. My tattoo sleeve on my left arm went all the way down to the wrist, a mix of sigils, swirls, stars, and flowers. On the right side, freshly healed scars from the fireball incident wound their way down my skin in shimmering lines of white tissue.

Calen noticed immediately, attention diverted from Sylvans and Threads for the moment as he stared at my skin.

"Your... arm is healed," he said slowly, picking up my hand so he could push my sleeve up a little more. "How did you do that?"

"Dante helped," I admitted. "Mom did, too. I'm not exactly a skilled healer outside basic mundane first aid."

Technically, Dante had done most of the work. Mom got the process started, but without his help, my healing wouldn't have been this fast or smooth. His healing skills were beyond anything I'd ever seen from a witch, and perfectly on par with what I'd heard some very skilled Sylvans could do.

Calen, though, didn't seem to like that. I knew he had trust issues with Sylvans, and that was okay, but the frown slowly spreading across his face made something in my chest sink. His eyes dropped to what seemed to be a very interesting spot on the floor.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, reaching over to playfully tap on his sour pout in an attempt to lighten the mood.

His brown eyes moved back to meet mine, lips shifting to a small smile. Reaching up towards my jaw, he traced his fingertips along my cheek, brushing my hair behind my ear, and leaned in a little closer. My heart rate immediately spiked, a comforting heat settling into my chest as he rested his forehead against mine.

"That I'm going to die if I can't kiss you," he whispered.

If it was possible, my heart jumped even more.

I'd been on dates. I wasn't entirely inexperienced, even though I'd decided years ago to just wait on my soul mate until I tried again. However, even in all those dates and in those couple of short relationships, no one had ever said anything like that to me.

If I had any sense, I might have stopped to consider the sudden subject change, but all sense was out the window at the moment. Calen was my soul mate. This was priority. Not screwing this up was priority.

Otherwise... I didn't know what would happen to me. If I didn't get this right, I'd lose my chance at having my person forever.

Maybe that was why I was so scared. Maybe that's why the butterflies were worse, why I felt both comforted and afraid around him. Maybe finding a soul mate was more of an emotional whirlwind than I thought it would be, just in general.

People sometimes described it like leaping off a cliff, and now I understood why.

I leaned into Calen's embrace, letting the magnetism of the moment take over entirely. If I just let things fall into place, it might make me feel more secure. Lighter. More confident.

His mouth was hot and insistent on mine, his hands trailing over my bare arms, but the light touch just wasn't enough. It felt like a fire that could only be doused by coming closer.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I moved closer to him, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped into my mouth to tangle with mine, and I thought that if I didn't consciously remind myself to breathe, I might pass out in this moment. It felt like catharsis as he pulled me in to straddle his lap, settling my hips against his. An embarrassing moan slipped past my lips as he settled his hands on my hips.

"It's alright. Let me hear you," he murmured, moving to kiss and suck at my pulse point.

I couldn't, though. I was too nervous. Instead of moving closer, I seized up in his arms. My heart was pounding in my ears, adrenaline or arousal or both making me dizzy.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him very, very badly. Maybe I should just let myself? After all, falling for a soul mate was what was supposed to happen. That was why we met, after all. We were supposed to meet, we were supposed to fall for each other!

Still, though...

"This... isn't really normal for me," I rasped, pulling away slightly.

"It isn't supposed to be. This is special," he said, letting his fingers trace down my spine in a way that made my breath hitch. "Soul mate bonds always feel too fast, from what I've heard. They say it's like you're spiraling into a black hole, pulled by a force you can't ignore."

He had that one right, absolutely. Every spare second, it felt like his face was in my mind. I wanted to call him and talk to him all the time, almost like a teenager with their first partner. I wanted to know everything about him, all his hopes and fears and dreams. I wanted to understand why and how some magical force of the universe picked us for each other.

The few soul mate relationships I'd seen were all so beautiful and unique. I wanted to know what mine would be.

"Tell me you feel it," Calen whispered, resting his forehead against mine. "Please."

I did.

I absolutely did. It felt like even our heartbeats were in sync, like I wouldn't be able to let go of him even if I wanted to. It was everything I ever wanted, and I was falling into all of it absolutely willingly.

"This feels... fast," I admitted. My stomach was in knots, but I wasn't sure if all of it was a good thing.

"This is a connection that's lifetimes in the making. Of course it feels fast," Calen said gently. "It feels that way to me, too. It just means we've known each other longer than memory allows."

I adjusted my posture so I could look into his eyes, though he still had his arms around my waist and held me on his lap. Sheer curiosity muted some of the strange feeling in my stomach, and the rest felt numbed as Calen's fingertips traced pleasantly over my lower back.

"Did you ever hear the stories about how soul mates are created?"

"My grandma told me a few theories," I said, shrugging. "She said the most popular ones are that they're blessings from the first witches, or that our magic calls us together by some kind of force we can't control, Maybe the idea is that our magic knows us better than we do."

There were some less popular ones, too. Some theories linked Witch's Marks with Sylvan heritage, others with the strength of their bloodlines. Everything seemed to go back to a force above and outside us, though, something guiding us towards a higher good that we couldn't see from our tiny perspectives.

It was comforting, in a way, to understand that maybe something out there wanted something good for us.

"I hate to tell you, but none of those are right," he said quietly, leaning in to whisper in my ear. His breath on my skin tickled, and I fought not to squirm.

"Oh?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "So what's your story, then?"

"Witch's Marks aren't always the same," he said slowly, "but if two people meet and fall in love in one life, and then spend that entire life together, the next lifetime they meet, their Witch's Marks will be a just a little more similar to each other."

What?

In all the time I'd grown up with grandma's witch stories, I'd never heard of that one. I could see why it might be less popular, in a way. Not everyone believed in past lives, and not everyone really liked to think that any past lives that did exist had an ample effect on their future. It was frustrating to think that things we couldn't remember could have incredible effects on the future.

"The Witch's Mark grows stronger the more lifetimes we meet. An exact resemblance means that we have enough lifetimes together on our hands to be forever intertwined. Our destinies are meant to follow one another," Calen continued.

That made sense, in a way. It certainly followed what I knew of the Threads.

There weren't just different colored Threads, but ones of different sizes as well. Threads could indicate not only the type of relationship, but the strength of the connection. Some of the strongest Threads I'd ever seen were between mothers and new babies, with braided cords running from one person to the other.

The Thread running between Calen and I was the thickest I'd ever seen. It wasn't just one cord, or even just one braid. It was tucked into itself over and over like a Gordian Knot, leashing us together in a way that very much might seem suffocating if I thought about it too hard, but instead it felt amazing. It felt like completing something that desperately needed a conclusion.

I was supposed to be here in this moment. The Threads said so.

It wasn't a conscious motion to kiss him again, but it happened before I could think about it. His hands in my hair felt beautifully possessive, drawing me closer as he insistently pressed his lips against mine. The Threads went away for a moment, the entire world narrowing down to breath shared between us as Calen shifted to kiss along my jaw, holding me so my chest pressed against his, heartbeats intertwined.

"Be my girlfriend," he said, lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

Another wave of dizziness washed over me, another sensation almost like déjà vu. I'd been here before, I thought. I'd said yes to this already in some part of my mind. I knew this was coming, and I wanted it.

I wanted to say yes again.

It felt like more than saying yes to a date, though, or even yes to a relationship. It felt like a commitment that scared me in its intensity. I wanted it so, so badly, but I didn't want the fire to burn so bright that it hurt us both.

"I thought we were going slow?" I finally said, looking at him through my lashes.

Calen's eyes went wide. "R— right! Right, yes. Got a little carried away there," he admitted, cheeks flushing.

It was cute, in a way. The blush on his cheeks was boyish and shy, a completely different side of his personality than the calm, collected leader of local witch political shenanigans, or even the confident protector who'd kept me safe twice now.

"We don't have to rush into anything. I just want to know if you're feeling the same kind of pull that I am," he amended.

That made my heart rate settle a little, but I still slipped off his lap and back onto my own side of the sofa, giving his hands a slight, encouraging squeeze.

"I am." It came out in a whisper, but a sincere one. Being around Calen made me feel protected, like I had a barrier between whatever was out there and whatever was in here. Something about it felt right. There were challenges ahead of us already, certainly, but we could handle those in time.

Right now, I just wanted to know him. I wanted to revel in the chance for a relationship like I'd never had before, in the certainty of finding someone like him. Things were set to last for us, as long as we kept working, and that emotional comfort was better than anything I could have ever dreamed of.

"Sunday... I just found you. I don't want to lose you already. Please," he said, biting his lip. "I know it's enthralling to step into an entirely new world, but you can't trust the fae. You can't trust any magical creatures."

"It's not about trust," I countered. I didn't trust the Sylvan Council or the Court, but I did want to know what they wanted. If it came down to them to save my life, I should know more than I did now.

I did trust Dante, though. I'd known him for long enough that I felt he deserved that caveat, at least in my mind.

"What's it about?" Calen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's about information. And besides, you've got Sylvans in the witch rights group." I tapped his nose gently, but he just frowned, pulling me a little closer so that our torsos were pressed together again.

"It's not about trust," he repeated. "I don't need to trust them, so long as I've got eyes on them. So long as they continue helping, they're allowed to stay."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that statement. If the goal was to work together to build a society that included witches and Sylvans, wasn't it a little hypocritical to invite Sylvans to the table without trusting them?

Then again, a certain level of caution was necessary. Maybe they were new, or they hadn't been given a chance to prove themselves. It didn't mean they were entirely untrustworthy or that Calen wouldn't come around in time.

"At least consider letting me come with you," he begged, taking my hands in his.

I bit my lip, weighing the options. At the end of the day, though, it couldn't hurt to at least consider it. I could ask Dante, if nothing else. If he said that someone else could come along, I could think about it more.

Besides, Calen was just trying to protect me. I would be very nervous if things were the other way around, and I probably wouldn't want him going alone, either.

"I'll think about it," I said.

Calen let out a relieved breath, running a hand through his dark hair. "That's all I ask."

As the tension drained from his posture, it felt like some of the worry drained from my chest, too. I leaned against the fluffy sofa pillows as he stood, straightening his clothing.

"I'll let you rest. Call me tomorrow?" He bent to kiss my forehead gently, flashing me a heart-stopping smile in the process.

"Okay," I agreed, nodding.

The air felt heady around me as he left, and I had to take a moment to ground myself in reality. All I wanted to do was just... lie in bed with his arms around me. I wanted to stay planted exactly next to him. Watching him leave was a painful kind of separation, and it was strange, too. I'd never felt quite so much like I might die if someone left, and certainly not so soon.

I wasn't dead, though, and I was forced to admit that there were other things that I had to do if I wanted to stay that way long enough to worry about my relationship at all.

I locked the door behind Calen, put the kettle on for tea, and plopped down on my couch with my phone. All I wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and sleep for the next week, but there were other things I had to do. In fact, at this point, I practically needed a list to keep up with everything.

I needed to deal with Dante's Threads, call my mother and make sure she wasn't freaking out, write down every detail I could think of about the falling concrete incident, investigate my own Threads for signs of anything strange happening, and...

It had been two years since I'd gotten any response at all, but maybe it was worth it to try reaching Callie one more time.