Word Count: 1631

~Luella

I stumble down onto my hands and knees.

Immediately I sense we are somewhere different to the last place Fate brought me. Somewhere with hard wood floors and a sweltering heat which hits me right away. Forcing myself to my feet, I shake my head, the residue power lingering in the air. I hate that ability that each immortal I have come across has access to, to leaves me with shuddering legs and a sick feeling in my stomach.

"Take me back right now," I demand, whirling around to face Fate, who lingers in front of me, a smirk plastered across this face. Looking past him, I examine my escape route, but all I see is a single door, and blank walls. Whatever this place is, Fate doesn't suspect I'll risk running.

There are no windows, just wooden walls. The place is small, vacant of any furnishings, looking as though it hasn't been lived in for decades.

"I'm afraid we need to talk before I can do that," Fate tells me.

"Why? What do you possibly need to talk to me about?" I question angrily. No, I'm not going to stand here and stare at Fate who looks at me with that taunting expression, hands tucked behind his back. I'm done playing his games, having him bring me to these obscure locations to manipulate me into doing what he wants.

Pushing past him, I fling the wooden door open, revealing the outside world and hopefully my escape. But it's not. I'm faced first with another wave of heat, followed by the brittle hit of sand against my skin and the glare of the sun in my eyes.

Shielding my eyes against the light, my heart sinks deep within my chest. No matter where I look, there is no civilisation in sight, as if this small hut is all that exists out here.

He has brought me to the middle of the desert.

"Not to be redundant, but I really don't think running is the best idea," Fate says from behind me. Stumbling back a few steps, I let the door shudder closed in front of me, blocking out the sight of pure hell.

Turning around, I stare straight at Fate, anger consuming each cell in my body individual. Heat explodes from my core, ensuring that whatever this infuriating feeling is, I'm going to have to act upon it. So, with clenched fists, I charge at the arrogant looking immortal, ready to throw hits or something...anything to make him feel the amount of frustration I am at this moment.

"I desert! Really?" I snap, thrashing my fists at his chest. He steps back, avoiding my hits. "You're demented, you know that? Why couldn't we just have a civil conversation?"

Fate grabs my arm. "You call this civil?"

"I meant a civil conversation in a civil place," I growl. Fate lets go of me, as I brush my hair back, wondering if as an Immortal, he would feel pain if I knocked him in the nose. Knowing it's surely pointless, I settle myself, pinning my arms to the side. Fate is a few wary steps away, doubtful I will hurt him, but uneasy about my next emotional outburst.

What can he expect?

"To calm down, perhaps you should consider the fact that I'm speaking to you about something that will please you greatly," Fate says flatly. I pause, attempting to resort the thoughts swirling around my head. I wish I had somewhere to sit down, to collapse and think for a moment, but there is nothing around me but emptiness.

"Please me?" I breathe.

Fate sighs. "Yes. I didn't drag you away from your mate to torture you. I really don't care that much, believe it or not. I needed to talk, and I knew you wouldn't cooperate if I spoke to you in that mental hospital. So, I brought you here, for a moment."

"Last time we spoke, you manipulated me, and threatened my sister and everyone in your territory. Sorry I don't trust you," I mutter, digging my hands into my hair.

Maybe I am overreacting. After everything that has happened, I've finally snapped. At the mental hospital, no one believed me, and even Della, my own sister thinks I'm crazy. I'm tied to a curse that is going to turn me into an immortal as powerful as Thought, and now, I have another immortal dragging me into a desert with no escape.

Fate steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I'm done. Do what you want with your mate. Love him or not, I no longer am seeking what I was back then. You're free from all your commitments to me."

My body deflates.

"That's it?" I question. I can't believe, after all that, he is backing off. He wanted me to give myself completely to Thought, which has been a slow process but I've been working on getting closer to him. Now I'm being told he's done? Seriously?

"My purposes were once to seek Thought's powers. Paired with my own, I would be so powerful, the world around us would completely change. But certain...issues have made me realise that maybe that's not what I want anymore," he tells me. His tone suggests he's embarrassed by admitting this, which I'm completely stunned by.

I glare at him. "Issues? Do all immortals not have their minds in the right place, or are all the immortals I know crazy?"

"Mates can be awfully influential," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

I'm in complete disbelief. Immortals have lived so long, that changing their mind so quickly doesn't affect them as much as it would to me. Fate has given up seeking power simply because of his mate, who as far as I'm aware, he isn't with yet. Fate is known for lacking a mate, with everyone having equal doubt of him ever finding one, so this is a surprise to me.

"Take me back, right now. I want you out of my life," I say quickly, grabbing at his wrist, demanding he uses his powers to take me back to my mate. It's dawned on me suddenly that if he figures out that I'm close to attaining powers similar to Thought, I would never get out of here.

Fate pulls me closer. "Only if you promise to never speak to Thought of this. If other immortals found out...it would be bad, for us both."

It's not a warning, it's a threat.

I nod, but don't utter a word. Fate grabs my hand tightly, his gaze stern, daring me to retort, but I don't. All I want is to return to Thought and get away from these immortals, before one of them finds out about the curse.

When I next open my eyes, I'm no longer in the middle of the desert, but standing in the driveway of Thought's estate. Regaining my balance, I see Fate has immediately left, clearly not wanting to face the wrath of Thought. Sighing, I approach the front door, desperate to see my mate and forget about these past few days being locked away in a mental hospital.

His home is eerily quiet as I close the door behind him, wondering if I should call out to him. It seems pointless, since he could most likely detect the presence of my mind from miles away.

Just as I considered my disappointment, I turn around to see Thought walking down the stairs toward me.

Suddenly, he looks different to usual.

I'm not sure what it is, seeing him outside of the dream world. He is so much more alive, more vibrant than I remember ever seeing him. It's not just his eyes, as encapsulating as they are. The way he moves, with a sense of ease, or allure, to the way he simply looks under the dim lights of his manor. His hair, sleek yet unkempt curls, even his skin, beautifully flawless, begging to be touched.

My sinful thoughts stop me in my tracks, making me grateful he promised to never look into my mind without my permission.

"You're okay," he breathes, bounding down the last few steps adeptly, reaching out to hug me. However, I have other plans, instead taking the last few steps myself, leaping into his arms, pulling his lips to mine. I can feel his surprise, but it doesn't take him long to react to my kiss.

I'm not sure what compelled me to react so passionately. Maybe it's because this is a real interaction, not just one formulated in a dream. Maybe it's because he was respectful enough when I was in that vulnerable state to not seduce me. Or maybe it's something else, like that sharp scent, or the softness of his hair under my fingers.

All I know is that I want him.

"Woah, what's this for?" Thought breathes against my lips, exclaiming his own surprise. I've never even kissed him like this without it being from a dream, so no wonder why he is so shocked.

Without replying, I kiss him again, but with more pace this time, begging for his touch, his taste, his everything. Suddenly he's lifting me up, my legs around his waist, his hands on my thighs. It sparks chills across my body, responding to the feeling of my mate's desperation for me, matching my own.

My apprehension is gone, and in this moment, all I want is him. All of him.

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~Midika 💜🐼