That realisation turns my stomach and I have to fight against the bile rising to my throat. Are we all really just puppets in their hands? Are none of our decision our own? Have they pre-planned our entire lives and nothing we ever do is out of our own free will?
Then what is the point of living? These Fates could just as well write stories rather than having real people act them out.
“Listen to us before you judge,” the third woman, Clotho, says softly. Her voice is melodic and beautiful, and for once, here’s a Fate who doesn’t look scary. She smiles at me and it actually reaches her eyes. Her dark locks frame her pale face like a painting, highlighting her high cheekbones and thin nose. She’s stunning.
That’s when I notice she replied to my thoughts.
“Can you read my mind?”
Lachesis laughs. “Of course, how else would we decide your fate?”
“Does that mean it’s not already decided?”
Atropos chuckles coldly, but it doesn’t hold much humour. “Oh, she’s a clever one. Careful, sisters, she might see through all our evil plans.”
Clotho clucks her tongue in disapproval. “Atty, stop the charades. She’s our guest and you should treat her as such.”
Atropos scowls. “I didn’t invite her.”
“No, you didn’t, but Lach and I did, so you’re overruled. Now you can either behave or leave.”
The golden-haired woman looks tempted to storm off, but she stays.
Using the quiet moment, I ask, “Where are my mates?”
Atropos sneers, but Clotho smiles benevolently. “They’re next door, don’t worry about them. Now, you probably have a lot of questions…”
“I want to see them,” I interrupt her and her smile wavers a little.
“As you wish. Follow me.”
With a swirl of her gown, she walks out of the room and I hurry to follow her. The other two Fates stay behind, but I couldn’t care less. I need to see my guys.
The house we’re in is airy and bright. White painted wood reflects the sunlight streaming in through high windows on both sides of the hallway. Somehow it reminds me of a beach pavilion in the south of England I once visited.
Clotho doesn’t look back once as she sweeps through the house, ignoring doors on both sides of the corridor. Not quite next door, then, like she said.
Finally, she stops in front of a beautifully carved white door. It looks like it should be in a museum, not in a house. She knocks but doesn’t wait for a response before entering.
Inside are two bears, sleeping on the ground, hugging each other. Húnn and Ràn. My guys.
“Where are the others?”
She shrugs. “The Portal closed before they could get through. They’re still on Earth.”
I squeeze past Clotho and run to them, kneeling by Húnn’s side. He seems to be uninjured but he’s not responding to my touch.
“Húnn?” I ask cautiously, then louder. “Húnn! Ràn!”
They don’t even twitch. They’re breathing though, so they’re not dead.
Tsss, Isla, don’t think such things. Of course they’re not dead. They’re not allowed to be.
“They’re asleep,” Clotho explains and I huff in frustration.
“I can see that! Why aren’t they waking up?”
“They threatened my sisters, so we had to put them to sleep. They refused to shift, which made it harder to communicate with them.” She smiles. “Now that you’ve seen that they’re alright, can we go back?”
I stare at her in outrage. “Wake. Them. Up. Now.”
My voice is turning into a growl, but she doesn’t flinch like I’d hoped. She continues to smile. I’m beginning to think that she might be more dangerous than Atropos. Not that any of them aren’t dangerous. They’re the Fates – just because they look like pretty women doesn’t mean they won’t cut my thread in a heartbeat.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s go back and talk,” she says in a sweet voice.
“No. I want them awake.”
Her smile doesn’t change.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Why not?” I shout. “Did you make another mistake?”
This time, she flinches slightly, but regains her composure instantly.
“We don’t make mistakes. Now come with me or I’ll keep them asleep for a lot longer than you’d like.”
Hate for her and her sisters boils up in me. Who do these women think they are? They’re playing with our lives and don’t seem to care about the consequences. They’ve probably done this for so long that they’ve lost all humanity. If they ever had any. Maybe they’ve always been the bitches they are now.
“Watch your language,” she says softly. “People used to cower before us. You should be honoured you’re in our presence.”
“Well, I’m not,” I retort with a grimace. No way would I bow to them. “And I’m not going to leave this room until you’ve woken up my mates.”
Her smile changes. “But isn’t just one of them mated with you?”
That bitch. I’m tempted to slap her.
“The other one will be as soon as I get the chance.”
“But will you get the chance?” She lets that question take effect. I’m sure she’s gloating as my heart tightens. Of course I’ll get the chance. Of course I’ll get bonded to Húnn. Of course he’ll be part of my sleuth. My harem. My men.
No question about that. Even if I have to rip my thread from the Fates and make my own destiny. Which sounds like a very good idea right now.
Clotho’s expression hardens as she hears my thoughts.
“Only a handful of people have managed that. All of them have brought disaster upon us. Upon the world. Believe me, you don’t want to be one of them.”
“Then wake up my men,” I snarl, running my hand through Húnn’s fur, willing him to come back to me. I need him. I need all of them. I reach out and touch Ràn as well. A slight tingle runs through my arm. The bond, maybe? It doesn’t happen when I touch Húnn, so it has to be.
Clotho sighs in exasperation. “If you insist.”
She waves her hand dismissively and Húnn takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. Ràn starts to snore.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I have to laugh. A bear snore is loud.
Húnn stretches his front paws and looks around. He doesn’t seem aware that he’s in a new place and in potential danger. He stands up and shakes his fur.
Ràn continue to sleep, but it’s a more normal sleep now compared to the coma-like state they were in before. I stroke the soft fur on his forehead and behind his ears. He takes a deep breath but doesn’t wake up.
“You said you’d wake them up!” I accuse Clotho, who’s watching us curiously.
“He doesn’t seem to want to.”
Húnn turns around and looks at me. It’s strange… I don’t think he recognises me.
“Pelja?” I ask hesitantly. “It’s me, Isla.”
He sniffs my legs. I hold out my hand and he sniffs that too. Usually, he’d lick it; it’s become a bit of a ritual between us. This time, he opens his mouth and growls.
I step back, astonished at the aggression showing in his stance. Why would he behave like that?
“Húnn, it’s me! Your Isla!”
Alis! I shout inside my head. I need you.
She doesn’t respond. If I can’t reach her and Pelja isn’t himself…
“What have you done?”
“Precautions.”
The bear that isn’t really Pelja approaches me and growls again. There’s no recognition in his eyes.
Fuck.
He doesn’t know who I am. And he looks pissed. He was so calm a moment ago, but now… I’m getting a little scared.
“Pelja, calm down. You know me… try and remember…”
He lifts himself onto his hind legs, presenting his chest, before letting himself fall down onto all fours again. He’s showing how strong he is. Bad sign.
&nbs
p; “Clotho, it won’t help anyone if he attacks me now. Or you. Just turn him back to normal, please!”
She sighs. “I told you so.”
Pelja begins to blink and wipes a paw over his eyes. He’s wavering, losing control of his legs. He sinks to the floor and a moment later, he’s fast asleep again. Ràn is still snoring.
Only now do I notice that I’m shaking. And that I have no idea what to do. My bears aren’t recognising me. Two of them aren’t here. And I’m stuck with three creepy women who apparently want something from me. And I can’t trust them. They’ve made a mess already, who is to say they actually want to resolve the situation? Maybe they’re glad the bear shifters are dying out. Or they just don’t care. Either way, I need to be careful.
“That was fun,” Clotho says with a satisfied smile. That bitch. Why would she do that to my bear? Just to amuse herself? Are the Fates really that bored?
“Ready to go back?” she asks and this time, I follow her. Asking her to wake up Húnn and Ràn again seems pointless. Not if they’re not recognising me.
Let’s get down to business.
Nine
We meet the other Fates in the room I first woke up in. The girl, Airlea, has disappeared and I’m quite glad about that. Three ageless women are enough trouble already. Especially as I have no idea about what they want.
Somehow, woven white armchairs have appeared in the room that definitely weren’t there before. What a strange, magical place. I’m not sure I like it.
Lachesis bids me to sit down and instinctively, I choose the chair closest to the door. I’m not feeling comfortable around them. And it’s worrying that I’m having to do this on my own, without my guys.
To reassure myself, I think of how I’ve been on my own for most of my life and have managed to survive. If I managed to deal with my uncle for over ten years, I can get through an hour or so with the Fates.
“I believe Airlea has filled you in on the bear situation?” Lachesis begins without preamble.
“If she’s the one who wrote a note in the back of the book we got from the trading ship, yes. But she only said something about a guy having his thread detached and that you need to reattach it.”
Atropos chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to send Airlea. She’s good in bed but not much else.”
She looks at me as if it’s my fault I don’t know more. “Let me tell you the full story. About two hundred years ago, a man called James Van Deen found out that bear shifters existed. Jealous of their strength, he searched for all the material he could find on them. There’s not much written down on bear shifters for exactly that reason, but he managed to amass quite a bit of knowledge nonetheless. Enough to make the connection between the Little Bear star system and bear mythology.”
“Somehow, he managed to coax Calisto’s son back down to Earth,” Lachesis continues the story. “By then, his thread was already frayed so even we don’t know all the details.”
“How did he manage to fray his thread?” I interrupt.
Clotho’s pearl white cheeks redden. “A moment of distraction,” she mutters.
Lachesis picks up the story, ignoring her sister. “He forced Arcas to bond with him, effectively becoming the human’s slave. Van Deen became a bear shifter just like he’d wanted – but he didn’t stop there. He’d noticed that just because he was stronger than humans now, they didn’t listen any more than they had before. He didn’t automatically get the power he hungered for. So he decided that if there were more of him, he’d be able to take respect by force. He wanted to be in charge, he wanted to rule. His solution were children.”
“He started to rape women, dozens, hundreds of them,” Atropos says quietly, to my surprise. She sounds sad, regretful. “Some killed themselves before it was time to cut their thread, but most bore his children. New bear shifters. But instead of the children of natural bear shifters, these were feral. They could shift as soon as they were born and their human side was only half developed. Some killed their mothers. They killed each other. It was carnage. But Van Deen carried on, fathering more and more children. The ones who survived, he trained. With Arcas inside of him, he managed to control them. They had no choice but do what he said. When the first boys reached maturity, he told them to find their own women to rape. It was a massive operation and Van Deen was no longer able to keep it a secret. So to cover his tracks, he started a compound in the East of Canada, pretending to be the leader of a religious cult. That gave him the privacy he desired, as well as curious people coming there from time to time that he could brainwash or capture, depending on their gender.”
Atropos’ eyes are filled with tears now. I’m having trouble holding my own back. What a monster. How many lives did that man destroy? How many people did he kill?
“So many threads marred or cut…”
I’m starting to suspect that she’s not crying because of the people, but because of her precious threads.
“There would be no life without our threads,” Clotho admonishes me, clearly reading my mind again. “You better start having some respect for our work.”
I sigh. “What happened next?” I ask tiredly. This is emotionally exhausting. I want my guys, I want to be home in our cottage.
“When we wanted to stop him, his thread snapped. It was too damaged to be manipulated. So suddenly he was cut loose and we couldn’t reach him. We sent some servants but none of them managed to neutralise him.”
If they were as competent as Airlea, I think I can guess why. But I don’t say that aloud.
“We only had one other option,” Lachesis continues. “We had to prevent more bear shifters being born. But there was no way to distinguish between Van Deen’s abominations and natural bear shifters.”
“Which is why there are no more shifter cubs,” I conclude. “But you said this happened two hundred years ago. My mates are in their twenties.”
“We didn’t start stopping new bear cubs until two decades ago,” Clotho explains.
“But…”
“But that means Van Deen is still alive, yes,” Lachesis confirms. “The combination of losing his thread and having Arcas as his slave means his lifespan has dramatically increased. I don’t think he’s immortal, but he’s still got a lot of life left in him.”
“Is he still a danger to humans?” I ask and Lachesis nods.
“He’s refusing to believe that there will be no more new shifter babies. He’s continuing to make his sons find women to impregnate. And he’s still doing the deed himself. Women are continuing to suffer and enough is enough.”
Her voice has turned hard. Finally, I’m seeing a glimpse of humanity in the Fate’s expression. She’s angry at Van Deen, sad for the women, desperate for a solution.
Just like me.
“How can I help?”
My mind is racing. What the Fates want from us, from me… it’s impossible. And I can’t make that decision myself, which is why I asked to talk to my men. This time, Clotho was a lot more accommodating. Airlea has been sent back to Inchbrach to bring Finn and Torben here, while Clotho is waking up Húnn and Ràn. Properly, this time. I don’t know why she didn’t do it that way the first time. It would have saved a lot of back and forth. I would have been a lot more prepared to listen.
As soon as Húnn wakes, he shifts.
“Out!” I tell Clotho, not wanting her to see my men naked. She snickers but leaves us alone.
“Húnn?” I ask hesitantly, hoping that this time, he’ll be himself.
“Isla.” He opens his beautiful eyes and looks at me with a smile. “I had the strangest dream…”
I can’t help it, I lean down and kiss him. I’ve never been so happy to feel his lips on mine. I almost lost him. My Húnn. He’s never going to be allowed to leave my side. I’m going to get a rope and tie him to me.
I kiss him harder until Ràn clears his throat.
“Do I get a kiss, too?”
With a last little nibble on Húnn’s bottom lip, I pull bac
k, turning to Ràn.
“Of course.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and he pulls me close. I’m so happy, I could burst into tears. He kisses me hard, his tongue entering my mouth from the start. I let him in, relishing in the feeling of his lips on mine.
“I see we’re missing out on something.”
I whirl around and screech in relief as Torben and Finn are entering the room together. I throw myself at Torben, then Finn, giving them both a quick kiss. It’s so good to have them all here with me.
“How did you get here so fast?” I ask and Finn shrugs.
“We’d found the Portal already and were debating whether to go through when that creepy girl appeared and told us to follow her. So, what’s going on? I take it we’re at the home of the Fates?”
“Yes, and they’re having big plans.” I sigh. “Let’s sit down for this. Anybody got some spare clothes for these too?”
I point at the bear brothers who are still naked.
“And how come you’re wearing some?”
Last time I saw Finn and Torben, they were in their bear forms, which means that they should be naked as well.
Finn shrugs again. “When we stepped through the Portal, we suddenly had these one.”
He looks down at himself and I follow his gaze. He’s wearing tight black trousers and a white shirt. He wouldn’t look out of place at a formal event. Same goes for Torben, except that he’s got an added tie. I smirk as I think how he looks like a suited Viking. It’s still our little joke. I cringe when I remember how I asked him once where he had his longboat stashed. Worst question ever.
“Does it bother you that we’re naked?” Húnn winks suggestively.
“It’s distracting,” I complain. “We’ve got some important things to discuss and you having your… dicks hanging out is making it hard to concentrate.”
Sometimes, I still stumble over words I would never have been allowed to say on Salvation Island. But I’m making progress.
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