The Allotter:The Threads of Destiny (7 page)

After a few minutes passed, she stood and stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel around her, absently noticing how water logged she was. How long had she been like that? How could she have become so immersed in such an intense and sexual daydream? It had seemed so real, so familiar.

  It wasn’t as if this sort of thing happened to her frequently! The sex with Kratos had been so intense, it felt as if it had truly happened.  Pressing her palms to her cheeks, she let out a shaky breath, walked into the bedroom, and proceeded to rifle for clothes through the Armoire and bureau.  Pulling out a few things with a little more force then necessary, she was a little surprised and miffed that she was disappointed that it was only a daydream.

  Throwing the clothing onto the bed, she stood in front of it, gripping the towel haphazardly wrapped around her body.
Shit!
She just had explicit dream sex with a complete stranger, hot and realistic sex.  A sudden hysterical bubble of laughter escaped her lips before she stifled it with both of her hands. The towel dropped to the floor. She was convinced that she had finally lost control and was, indeed, crazy.

 
“Shit.” Out loud, the expletive was not nearly enough to convey her anxiety over her situation. At least she hadn’t had a seizure during her daydream, especially when she discovered his wings.

Wings!

 
“Wings?” she questioned herself and the situation out loud, as if it would redeem her sanity in the eyes of whoever discovered or ‘retrieved’ her. Retrieve was the word both men had used multiple times. As if she were a package, an inanimate object without feelings or objections to

being abducted.

  Naked and silent for a moment, she snapped out of her musings long enough to pull on the simple white cotton bra and matching panties she had found that were conveniently, her size. Once she was safely ensconced in the practical undergarments, she sat on the side of the bed, holding a pair of blue yoga pants and a charcoal grey T shirt. She sat for a short period of time pondering her connection to Kratos. After all, she didn’t know this him, did she? Yet, she felt something towards him, an inexplicable lure that she couldn‘t quite comprehend. The episode in the shower had felt almost…familiar.

  Haphazardly stuffing her limbs into her clothes, she walked into the bathroom to check herself in the mirror and organize her hair into something less than a mop of tangles and knots. Flipping the light on she glanced at herself in the mirror and was riveted by the sight before her. Her green eye glittered as if illuminated from within and her grey eye, well, appeared as though it was fluid. Like molten silver, swirling in her eye socket, no pupil apparent. She stared at herself in awe, watching herself as if detached from the reality literally staring her in the face. It was her, but not really, was it? She shook her head to the side, as if to dispel the image staring back at her. Her black curls moved fluidly about her head like a slow motion liquid halo. Cautiously, Evie leaned over the sink to stare at the freakish anomaly appearing before her. With tremulous fingers, she traced the pale skin below the molten silvery eye. No pain or discomfort greeted her. Abruptly moving back from the mirror a step, she was unable to look away from her foreign reflection. A voice sounding distant and annoyed intruded on her thoughts.
Remember who you are, what we are.

“
What if I don’t want to? What if I’m afraid of losing myself, losing who I am right now?” Evie asked her reflection, desperation clouding her sanity; after all, she was talking to herself. Somehow, she knew the reflection was merely a fragment of her identity. She needed to hear the truth, and the truth would only come from her.

Her reflection leaned forward slowly as Evie held her breath.  Her reflection responded to her question, independent from her, her body language a symphony of motion.

  “You will not lose anyone or anything because, quite simply, you choose it. You are the measurer of lots and choose destiny, therefore, why not choose your own?” Her reflection’s smile ancient, she or it, leaned back and morphed into her mirror image once again.

  She moved abruptly to the right then feinted to the left, her image in the mirror doing the same. Like a mirror image should do. She stumbled back against the wall, her breath labored and panicked, as the black spots began to form in the back of her eyes. She closed her eyes and struggled to control her breathing. In through her nose, then out through her mouth. She would not black out or suffer a seizure!

  Opening her eyes, she found that her reflection was ordinary. One green eye, one grey. She sighed in relief. Or was it disappointment? There were too many unanswered questions. She needed answers, and she needed them right now.

Chapter 8

  Kratos stood outside of the bedroom door, his body was tight and rigid as his hands brutally gripped the intricately carved wood moldings surrounding the door above his head. The cracking of the wood prompted him to let go to resume the pacing he had been doing on and off for the past hour, as if he were a caged animal. Or to be exact, a caged animal in heat. His restraint was in shreds. He knew her exhaustion would make her mind vulnerable, and he knew that giving her such an erotic reverie was wrong. He didn
’t care and couldn’t help himself. He needed her. He wanted her. It had been too long without her. The many times he fantasized about their reunion, he never once thought his control would shatter for her and he never once thought his heart would ache when she looked upon him as if he was a complete stranger. He rubbed his hand absently across his chest, as if he could rub away his despair. He couldn’t remember the last time he experienced such a loss of control over his emotions. Or any emotions for that matter. She was the only one to instigate such feelings.

  He thought about her standing in the snow demanding answers. Her cheeks were flushed, chin held high despite her obvious fear. Raking his fingers through his hair he could see why his liege was so captivated and fascinated by mortals, especially mortal women. Their free will and deep-seeded instinct to experience a life worth living created a passion and drive to live their life to its fullest extent. Her wary eyes, shaky hands, and flushed skin reminded him that mortality had an end and he was envious. She was gifted with the opportunity to experience mortality and immortality, and she didn
’t remember her immortal self. He chuckled in self deprecation; sometimes the Gods can be too cocky for their own good.

  He found himself standing in front of the bedroom door again, fists clenching and unclenching at his side. He was selfish, he knew it. He should feel ashamed, but he didn
’t. The reverie was not just to awaken her, it was for the sheer pleasure of tasting her skin and hearing her breaths quicken from his touch, even if it was only experienced through a vivid dream. It would hold him over. For now.

  The only thing he did do that was remotely appropriate was that he let her see his wings. It was risky, but worth it. The after glow of their reverie sex had relaxed her, creating an open mind that accepted his wings with little issue. Just because he had wings, didn
’t mean he was an angel, and he certainly wasn’t feeling angelic at the moment. He shoved his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends, as he groaned at his temporary abuse of power. His desire for her made all honorable thoughts and his directive to keep her safe, evaporate in an instant.  

  By the Gods, he missed her! He needed her to remember herself and him. He needed her back.

He walked over to the large windows lining the expanse of one wall of his apartment, a sudden pit of despair settling in his gut. How would he make her remember?  If she did remember, would her feelings be as they were so long ago?

   What were her last words to him? He pinched the bridge of his nose, as the memory of her voice trickled through his mind.
I will always remember my heart.
She had pressed her hand to his naked chest as his heart beat with rhythmic force against her warm palm. He was her heart and now, she had no idea who he was. He rolled his eyes closed on a groan of helplessness. She had to remember. He did. He remembered every nuance of her, from the taste of her salty sweet skin right down to her husky laughter. 

Maybe reorientation to herself would be easier then they originally thought. The next couple of hours would be crucial to her recovery. He wondered, how would she react once she heard what had happened? Would she remember her immortal self? Would she want to? Would he want her to?  He slammed his palms against the glass windows when he realized he was in quite a jam. He wanted her to remember what they shared together as immortals but he didn
’t want to lose the mortal Evie. Why couldn’t he have them both? They would, after all, eventually only be one, wouldn’t they?

Chapter 9

  Whipping open the bedroom door, she was not surprised to find Kratos waiting on the other side. His face seemed deceptively calm, his clenched jaw the only indication that he was not as calm as he appeared.

“We need to talk. Now.” She said as she held the door handle. He walked towards her, causing her to step back. He Stopped within inches of her and studied her eyes as she held her breath.

 
“I agree.”  Placing his hand in front of him, palm up he asked, “Ready?”

  She looked from his hand, and then searched his face, finding that a muscle was now twitching in his clenched jaw.
“No,” she answered, her brow furrowed with suspicion. He dropped his hand and raised his eyebrows in question.

  She stepped away as his large frame blocked her way out of the room.
“Do you know what the hell just happened to me in the shower?” She crossed her arms in front of her, the action giving her a feeble sense of safety.  His face became a mask of impassivity as he clasped his hands behind his back.

 
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Holding out his hand once more, he avoided her eyes as he waited for her to take his hand. “Come, I can take you to someone who will give you answers if you just take my hand.”

 
“Give me answers? I just asked you a question and you wouldn’t answer it. Tell me the truth. Do you know about our little sex scene, or whatever that was, in the shower?” Her hands dropped to her sides as her chest heaved from a mixture of anger and fear. A cold sweat blossomed upon her skin. “Tell me!” she screamed.

 
“No. I can’t tell you. “His refusal was too quick; his sudden aloofness caused her dread to slowly trickle to the surface. He turned his head away, but not before she caught his wince in response to her tirade.  He didn’t deny that it happened, he refused to tell her.

  Shit. He knew.

  Her cheeks hot, she pressed her palms to them. She was embarrassed because he knew about her sexual daydream tryst with him, and she was even more embarrassed because she enjoyed every minute of it and wished it was a reality. Hot tears of shame and anger burned their way into her eyes. Blinking back the tears, her voice was husky, “I don’t know how, but you know what happened. I know you do.”

  His sympathetic tone was too much for her.
“Evie…” Her name said with such care sent her over the edge. She pushed past him and ran to the front door as hot tears distorted her vision. Throwing it open she heard him call her name as she ran to the elevator. Her tears streamed down her face, blurry vision making it difficult for her to see the buttons to the elevator. Please don’t follow me she repeated like a mantra over and over again. The dinging sound indicated that the elevator door was about to open when she heard his footfalls behind her. Ignoring him, her nervous energy boiled to the surface as she stepped from side to side. Wringing her hands, she avoided eye contact with him.

  The elevator doors opened as his soft plea reached her ears,
“Evie, please listen to me.” She walked into the elevator and pressed the lobby button, as he stood before the elevator doors as they closed. Just before they shut, she thought she saw a glimmer of emotion pass his face. He looked…hurt. As the elevator descended, she paced the confining space, swiping the sweat from her brow.

She mumbled to herself,
“I can’t handle this,” as the muted ripple of her reflection stilled while her body was still in nervous motion. She tried to ignore the anomaly; she would not acknowledge it which would mean it wasn’t really happening.
You need to trust him
a calming voice whispered. Did she hear it in the elevator, or in her head?

 
“I’m certifiably insane.” she mumbled, as the elevator door opened to reveal Kratos in the exact same spot as he was when she left him. Didn’t the elevator go down when she pressed the button?

“Evie listen…” she hit the elevator close button repeatedly, the back of her hand burning from the force of her blows. Pressing the arrow up, she listened to the bell that represented each floor. The elevator door opened again to reveal Kratos standing before her. Stepping between the doors, His large frame blocked them from closing while he held his hand out to her.

   Pressing her arm to her belly, her breath rushed out as if someone punched her in the gut.
“How can you be on every floor?” Heart racing, a cold sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts as she pressed back against the elevator and slid to the floor. “How?” She repeated as she pulled her knees up and buried her head, the rhythmic swish of her blood indicated the possibility of passing out. 

  She tried to control and focus on her breathing while her body rebelled, each breath a struggle.
“I’m so confused.” Her voice was shaky, as she listened to his movements in the elevator. Realizing he was lifting her, she looked up at him while he cradled her in his arms.

  His brow was furrowed with concern as he whispered,
“Evie, please trust me. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Walking out of the elevator, he brought her back to his apartment and placed her on the couch. Sitting on the coffee table across from her, he leaned toward her and pressed his forehead to hers, forearms braced on his knees as he waited for her panic to subside.