Tempting Destiny

by Sela Croft

  I’d made some excuse to leave the party, giving Lana a vague explanation. She’d been with Skye, so had let me go. Although I didn’t doubt she’d demand more from me today.

  Lana hadn’t come back to the dorm, so had probably stayed over at a friend’s place. I’d hardly slept, tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. Like a child, I’d left a nightlight on, anxious that I might see creatures of the other world in my dark room.

  After barely sleeping, I woke before dawn. I got out of bed and dressed, needing to get away. Nature called; I was suffocating in the city. It was Sunday, so I had no other commitments. I’d longed to visit one of the parks along the Pacific coastline.

  The drive was lovely. When I pulled over to a scenic outlook, I looked across Portage Bay to University Bridge. The south campus was visible under the bridge, and it felt good to be away from it. I continued to the beach area of Deception Pass.

  It was no wonder the park was one of the most visited in the state. I’d been there before and had marveled at the mysterious saltwater coves and rocky islands. As I approached, I looked up at Deception Pass Bridge, a scenic wonder of the northwest. From scarily high, the two-lane bridge curved gracefully between two islands.

  I’d navigated steep climbs, reaching high, rocky bluffs. And I’d watched leopard seals swim among the straits, hundreds of feet below. But I’d avoided paddling through the water in one of the kayaks because of the current and waves. Such activity was only advised with experienced help as a guide, but was still dangerous. The dynamic weather and fast currents were not to be taken lightly.

  It was cold out and I wasn’t in a hiking mood. Instead, I drove to the top of the rugged cliffs. After parking the car, I got out and walked. When I reached the edge, I stood among century-old trees. The giant firs served as perches for bald eagles, though I hadn’t often spotted one.

  Then I took one of the bluff-side footpaths and wove through the forest to get a better view of the Olympic Mountains. I gazed at length at the majestic coastal range, admiring Mount Olympus, the tallest peak. I faced the slopes above the bay; beyond the range was the Pacific Ocean.

  I sat on the ground, welcoming the feel of the earth underneath me. Then I wrapped my arms around my bent knees and filled my lungs with fresh air. The endless sky above, the water below, and the mountains in the distance were the therapy I needed.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat there. For a while, I reclined and looked upward at the tops of the tall trees. It was peaceful and serene; the experience rejuvenated me. I felt better than I had in some time. I must have drifted to sleep, as I awoke with a start.

  For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. The trees above looked foreign and the sky was dark. I sat up and peered out at the water. My thoughts went to Draven, and I wondered if he was truly under the ocean, in some other realm.

  My eyes widened as three women rose from the depths, their black cloaks swirling about, as if in a heavy wind. An enormous claw appeared before my eyes, causing my heart to pound with fright. I leapt to my feet, prepared to run, but could only stare in disbelief.

  A woman’s grotesque visage was inches from my face. She scowled and uttered in a guttural voice, “He…is ours. Stay. Away.” Before I could respond, the image vanished. I watched the water’s surface, but the women didn’t reappear.

  Any rejuvenation I’d experienced had been shattered. Trembling, I began walking back to my car. I didn’t want to stay, didn’t want to see any more. No matter where I went, creatures appeared like the filmy substance from the underworld that they were.

  Would I ever have peace? And more importantly, would I succeed in finding Draven?

  Despite my traumatic weekend, Monday came, so I was compelled to attend classes. Yet I couldn’t seem to get back in step with my life. Night after night, I had trouble sleeping. Overtiredness began to set in.

  Classes rolled by and I listened, yet retained little. At the library, I daydreamed when I should have been studying. In class, I was distracted. At work, I made mistakes. Lana began to worry about me, and although I tried to reassure her, I had my own doubts about my condition.

  The only saving grace was that I hadn’t experienced any illusions since my trip to the park. The creatures had been quiet, and the owl hadn’t reappeared. Yet the absence concerned me more than their harassment had.

  Riddled with guilt for failing to discover a way to reunite with Draven, and strung out from lack of sleep, I began to behave strangely. Lana suggested that I needed help, but I had no place to turn. No one would understand, or even believe me.

  I struggled to remain grounded, failing at every turn. I began to wish for the creatures of the dark, for they provided some connection to my lost love. It was insane; even I had to admit that. But it wasn’t in my nature to give up.

  On many nights, after Lana was asleep, I closed my eyes to will my body into slumber. Hour after torturous hour passed, yet I stayed wide awake. The insomnia was the ultimate frustration, because it prevented me from dreaming.

  It was only in a dream that I’d had contact with Draven since his alleged demise. It was only in a dream that I hoped to see him again. The more nights that went by without that satisfaction, the more intensely I craved dream-filled sleep.

  I began to miss classes. Sometimes I forgot to go, and other times I didn’t think I could survive in the stifling classrooms. One day, I didn’t think I could endure the waiting a second longer. I had faith—however irrationally—that Draven would contact me.

  If he still lived and breathed, he would return to me—even if I remained unable to find him.

  After a long day at school, I staggered back to the dorm. Lana wasn’t going to be home. I tried to remember what day it was, but the days seemed to run together. She was going to a party and staying over with a girlfriend.

  It was dark outside before I got to the room. I felt like falling onto my bed, yet managed to shower first. With my nightgown on, I slipped under the covers, my limbs heavy from sleep deprivation. I closed my eyes, my lids as weighty as lead.

  My breathing was shallow, my muscles limp. Thoughts that I’d agonized over for hour upon hour escaped me. I hadn’t the strength to hold on to any memory or image. I was too weak to fight the overpowering sleep that engulfed me.

  Draven appeared next to the bed and looked down at me. My heart skipped a beat. His eyes had the ethereal glow I remembered. His dark, shaggy hair begged touching, and his perfect lips called me to kiss him. But all I could do was gaze at his handsome form.

  He reached toward me. “Mirela…”

  I stirred, wanting to open my eyes to see if he was truly there.

  Draven’s attitude was dark, not joyful at seeing me again, as I would have expected. He touched my cheek, then stroked my jaw. His gaze fell to my neck, and I saw fire behind his blue eyes. His body tensed, then his lips curled back.

  Sharp, gleaming fangs distended, then Draven leaned closer. I craved his touch, begged for the sensation of his bite into my vein. His desire was powerful, drawing him to me. Yet he resisted. He moved closer, his breathing raspy.

  I relaxed, trying to give him a cue to proceed, to let him know that I wanted it too. But Draven hesitated, and a look of pain clouded his expression. It was as though I’d withheld my blood from him—that drinking the liquid that flowed in my veins was a temptation beyond compare. And deprived, he suffered unbearable agony.

  I belonged with Draven, body and heart. I would give all, and I saw from the look in his eyes that he knew it. Still…he moved back. The agony was mine then. The loss of my love was imminent. Grief welled up, and I disbelieved that life could be so cruel.

  Even as I stared at Draven, I wondered if it was all nightmare instead of reality. Was his presence merely wish fulfillment—he’d appeared to me in a dream only because I’d wished for little else for weeks on end?

  Yet if I opened my eyes, then I’d be forced to realize that Draven had been no more than imagination. I refused t
o believe so. “Draven…please.” I heard my own voice, certain that I had spoken aloud.

  Draven wrapped his dark cape around him, as if holding himself back. “I must not, lovely Mirela. I’ve erred gravely already by appearing in your life. I should have kept away, and yet…”

  If only Draven would stay, I was sure that any barrier could be conquered. Whatever dark forces sought to keep us apart could be overcome.

  “The temptation of having you has overpowered my judgment. But you are more important than my need, for reasons you cannot fathom.” Draven lifted my hair, then held my gaze as the silky strands filtered through his fingers. “I plead with you again to forget me. Don’t make my grave mistake fatal. You have a chance, and you must take it.”

  Draven was gone, and the stab to my heart was greater than before. He needed me; I was confident that I played a role in his life. Fate wouldn’t bring us together only to rip us apart. Whatever Draven feared, I refused to cower to it. I couldn’t lose faith that our love was stronger than any evil that would seek to destroy it.

  CHAPTER 10 – DRAVEN

  My appearance in Mirela’s world had sparked desire, though the situation had been fraught with danger. I’d thought to see her, to connect with her—one time. But I’d stayed. Her scent had engulfed me, and her beauty had enthralled me. Should I have expected any different?

  She was a maiden, to be kept safe and protected. Yet I’d searched for her, for many long centuries, just to know she existed and to ascertain her future. But her world had been filled with temptations, and she’d been the greatest one of all.

  There was no way to deceive myself, as I was no saint—more like a devil. My heritage and vampire state had graced me with many abilities. But because I could enter her world, it didn’t mean I should have. Had I been wiser or of purer morals, then I might have avoided disaster.

  Yet Mirela had been so close, and impossible to ignore. She’d been just beyond my reach, so I’d gone to her. At first, I hadn’t intended to reveal myself. It should have been enough to see her, then take the memory back to my realm—having only that to sustain me through the ages.

  That had been my first error in judgment. I’d been deluded in supposing that I could lay eyes on her—witness her beauty and goodness—and turn away. Indulgence had been my way of life, so I’d sought to take what I wanted.

  Her good heart, her pure soul, and the magic within her had captivated me. I’d abandoned my plan to feast my eyes upon Mirela, then forget she existed. Hadn’t I sought to be with her, for as long as I could remember?

  But she was not meant to be mine anymore. Strife and war had broken out in my world beneath the water, so I dared not take Mirela as my partner. She was sweet, kind, and innocent of the darker side of existence. It would be my most heinous sin to immerse her in the underbelly where I existed.

  My grave error had been to appear to her, allow her to bond with me. It was what I’d wanted yet had known to be wrong. For my own satisfaction—compelled by my thirst for her—I hadn’t resisted her advances. Worse than entering her world, I’d encouraged her when I’d had every chance to turn her away.

  Even in my absence, Mirela continued to long for me, and I for her. It reminded me that the consequences of some actions could not be undone. Having found her, it was proving impossible to abandon her. I might have let the past go, then embarked upon the rest of my existence without her.

  Living with that agony would have served me right. I’d intruded upon her life and put her at risk. If there was a way to back away and ensure her safety, then I must surely do so. But Mirela would not allow it. I’d witnessed her response to my disappearance, as one of my abilities was to see into her world.

  Mirela had been persistent in looking for clues, and for a path to understanding what she shouldn’t. Leaving her behind was a loss to me—and to the world. Yet to include her would be to destroy her. Once tainted by my realm, her innocence stolen, there would be no going back.

  Yet I’d sensed her calling to me, heard her pleas, and witnessed her suffering. I was the cause of it, so I’d had to act. I was cruel in many ways, but even I could not leave the one woman I wanted in such pain. Dream visits were a way to communicate, so had allowed me to enter her mind.

  Lest I paint too good an image of myself, I had to admit that entering Mirela’s dream satisfied me, probably more than her. I’d wanted to see her, speak to her, touch her. I’d permitted the creation of that pleasure, committed one more transgression.

  Mirela had slept, her dark hair flowing over the pillow, and her kissable lips tempting me. I’d gazed at the white skin of her neck and watched her vein pulsing beneath. The scent had been intoxicating, my thirst overpowering. The sensation of my fingers grazing her delicate skin had engulfed me with need too great to describe.

  My fangs had distended, making me ready for the feast. My insides burned, urging me to satisfy my craving. It would have been ecstasy, but the cost was too great. I’d entered her dream at great risk, but my appearance had been mere illusion.

  I was no longer at liberty to enter her bedroom, to feel her silky hair, and to listen to her soft breathing. I didn’t have the freedom I’d once had. The only device left to me was mind travel, so I’d entered her mind and spoken in her dream.

  Had I done a good thing? It was difficult to know. I’d warned Mirela, which had been the purpose of my visit. She had to stay away and forget this madness. The bond between us was strong, possibly too powerful to break. But I had to hope otherwise.

  I’d pleaded with her, made my message clear. I would have done more, but the monsters who sought to restrain me had interceded and cut the dream short. My enemies were educated about my skills, so strove to curtail my independence. My life wasn’t my own, and it wouldn’t be until I won out in my battle against death.

  I’d overstayed in Mirela’s world. The creatures of darkness had hauled me back, and not for a good purpose. It wasn’t about my will or intentions, but about their lust for power. The enforcers had appeared as three clawed women and had allowed Mirela to see their images.

  It had been beyond the pale to allow such. Yet the creatures were ruthless in achieving their aims. Their only motivation had been to bend me to their will. I’d been tortured and urged to comply. I’d fought back as I could. It had been bloody and filled with the stench of death.

  The precarious situation raged on, with no end in sight. Mirela had begged me to return to her, without realizing that I couldn’t. But I did have powers…so the death gods wouldn’t have their way without a fight.

  CHAPTER 11 – MIRELA

  When I awakened the next morning, I was still upset by the dream. Draven and I had been cheated. There hadn’t been enough time to say what we’d needed to. If he’d stayed longer, I might have persuaded him. But the opportunity had slipped away.

  After the vivid dream, I had slept deeply. Yet I remembered every detail of Draven’s visit. He’d looked as he had in life, although worn down. I wondered by what. Having memorized every second of the encounter, I replayed it in my mind.

  Draven’s expression had been dark, and his concern evident. Yet it hadn’t been only because of me. There were other forces at work, and there was still so much that he hadn’t told me. Even beyond the maw of death, he withheld the ugliness from me.

  For surely, whoever had him in their grasp was evil. How could they not be? Those who had taken him—stolen him away from me—could have no worthy intentions. I was more desperate than before to discover their nature and purpose.

  After I rose from my bed and dressed, I went outside. It was a bright morning, in contrast with the gloom inside me. Having Draven close, and then ripped away, had darkened my mood. I considered that I might have committed an unforgivable sin that deserved such punishment.

  Yet I couldn’t bring one to mind. Whatever I’d done in my childhood, I imagined it could be forgiven. And in my teens, the pendulum had swung in the direction of moral goodness. In some part, I attribu
ted that to the fact that my mother kept me at home, so I’d been unable to transgress.

  I’d had my foibles, and certainly hadn’t been an angel. But no act had been so heinous as to warrant banishment from my true love. That seemed harsh in relationship to my past behavior—unless goodness was a crime.

  It might be in other realms of which I knew little. Whatever the dark world in which Draven existed, I didn’t know its rules of good and bad. Possibly, I wasn’t the target, but Draven was the recipient of such wrath.

  I balked greatly over that concept. Any world that would treat Draven so poorly as to deprive him of love would be intolerable. Yet I couldn’t deny that forces—beyond the boundaries of life as I’d known it—sought to keep us apart.

  Oblivious to my surroundings, I walked down the sidewalk toward school. Vaguely, I thought of classes but couldn’t remember my schedule that day—or even what day it was.

  Lost in my thoughts, I nearly ran into a student on a bicycle. And minutes later, I dodged around a service dog leading a student to class. The dog owner hadn’t seen my near miss, but the dog looked at me with curious eyes.

  The bell rang, but I didn’t move in any clear direction. Life was an empty void without Draven. If only I’d been assured that he’d return and visit me in my dreams. But I feared he wouldn’t. He’d warned me away, and tried to persuade me to forget him.

  That would be like forgetting that I existed.

  I walked for a long while, going in circles. Then I recognized a building and remembered that I had class with Lana. Only I was sure I was already late. The bell rang again, then groups of students emerged. Lana was among them, confirming my suspicions that I was tardy.

  Lana spotted me and walked over. “You missed class. Where were you?”

  “I haven’t been sleeping well. I must have overslept.”

  “You can’t keep doing this.” Lana studied me. “I realize this is a rough time for you, but you need to make the effort. What happened at the party? Why did you leave?”