Fate

Chapter Fifty One

Word Count: 1637
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​Death stood at the banks for a moment, looking around the new clearing, her stormy gray eyes taking in the tall pines and quaking aspens.

​Like the trees, Death was tall and lithe and pale. Her golden blonde hair billowed around her shoulders. Dimly, Zayla remembered her surprise at first meeting Death. She was strange and unpredictable, like all the Sins, but she wasn't the black-cloaked grim reaper Zayla had always pictured. She could even, on occasion, be kind.

​This was not one of those moments. "Too much, Wrath."

​Zayla's hand curled into fists. "Too much what?"

​Death's eyes seemed to hold thunderstorms. "You know what I'm talking about. Immortals cannot stalk the earth destroying the way you have. Even Wrath," Death said, narrowing her eyes. "You killed an entire pack of werewolves. Did you think no one would notice?"

​"I had my reasons," Zayla said.

​Death snorted. "Yes, I know all about your reasons. Old rivalries? Those have nothing to do with Immortals, Wrath. It is beneath us."
​Zayla shook her head. "That had nothing to do with being an Immortal. It was an old score, and now it's settled."

​Death looked at her, shadows racing across her slate gray eyes. "And that is it, then? It is finished?"

​"It will be finished when I am finished!" Zayla screamed, turning away from Death. "When justice has been served! There is so much to do."

​"You must slow—"

​"I refuse," Zayla said. "The mortal realm is filled with debts."

​Death gave her a hard look. Something shifted in her eyes. She took a step closer. When she spoke, her voice no longer boomed through the trees. "Your power is new to you, Wrath. It took me years to truly understand. But if you give in to it—if you allow your power to go unchecked—it will consume you. You will lose yourself. There is no control in that—"

​"I've never had control," Zayla snapped. "Nothing was ever in my control. Not even my fate." She spat out the words. "My path was determined before I was born. But now," she smiled as she felt surging waves of fury through her body, "now I'm free. Now I determine my fate."

***

​"Oh. My. God." Ava stared up at the ceiling. "That was . . ." She shook her head, at a loss for words.

​Fate looked out the window at the night. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he murmured, absently.
​She flipped over onto her side, pulling the sheet around her breasts. "I have never slept with someone I'm interviewing before." She let her eyes sweep down Fate's chest to the sheet at his waist. "I don't even know how it happened."

​Fate smiled. "Maybe it was fated."

​Ava laughed. "Right. Maybe."

​His smiled widened.

​"Wait." Ava sat up and looked at him. "What do you mean, fated?"

​Fate looked at her. "I know your fate," he said. "I know everyone's fate. I am Fate."

​Ava gaped at him. "What does that mean?"
​"Surely you've heard of me," Fate said, chuckling. "Fate, Death, Karma—all the Sins—the whole lot of us."

​"I mean . . . I've heard . . . I thought they were stories . . ." Ava said, softly.

​"Not stories. I'm from the Immortal realm."
​"What are you doing here?" Ava asked, eyebrows drawn together.

​A wave of cold passed through Fate, as though an artic wind had just blown across his face. "I had found my mate. After centuries of waiting. We were to be joined together. Married, is what you might call it. But she was taken from me."