6. Chapter Six

ROSE

Scalding water cascades over me, beating down like little pellets of fire against the cool stone tub beneath me. The guys love taking showers with me, but not when I've got it so hot, my skin turns bright red. I joke that I'm ‘sizzling my bones.' And their usual reply is something along the lines of, ‘You can sizzle my bone,' followed by my eye rolling.

Last week, Theo and Bennett carved out a tub so I can take a bath. But rather than just filling up the tub, I've put the stopper in and let the water run over me.

I'm tucked into the corner, the natural rock walls only lit by the tinkling glow of fae lights. The muffled sounds of my mates and Bennett working filter through the stone, their laughter and occasional curses punctuating the quiet sanctuary I've found here. They're working in the cave tunnels to add more light so it's not so dreary. I suspect they're doing it as a way to keep Kieran from sitting in his room, alone and in the dark, sulking with his inner demons.

He's been so cold with me since he woke up and I told him what happened, and it's starting to get to me. I've tried to talk to him, but he keeps finding excuses to leave the room. It hurts, like a kick to the chest by a Mysthorn.

Anxiety churns inside me, and I try to focus my mind on something else as I sink to the tub floor, but everything that comes to my mind is something I'm dreading. I draw my knees to my chest, letting the water drown out the world.

Tomorrow is the day.

The thought sends an involuntary spasm of panic through my chest. My parents have invited my mates and I over for dinner. Though for us, it won't just be a meal, but to drop two bombshells—the revelation of Chaos as my other soul bonded mate and our imminent ascension.

Mom will probably be worried about how dangerous ascension is. My dads will want to punt Chaos to the frozen wastes of Nethermore, all consequences of life without magic be damned. A few of them have lived without magic before, and in all likelihood, see it as a better alternative than their precious daughter gaining familiarity with all the types of cocks this realm has to offer.

Of course, it's just my mates and me, but with each new mate I collect, you'd think I'm filling entire Spar Games stadiums with ‘em.

I can already hear the barrage of questions, the worried glances exchanged over glasses of wine. My dads, especially, will be relentless. They've always had this way of being overbearing when it comes to anyone they think could hurt me. Or, who look at me with any more intimacy than a grandma would look after her pet snail.

And Chaos, well, he's not just anyone. He's the God of gods. How do you explain that one of your soul bonded mates is the oldest and most powerful being in existence? Older than all of my dads combined.

I groan out loud as I brush long, sopping wet hair out of my face. I can do this. Hell, I've done a lot of hard things. Fought a war and faced lovesick kings who were hell-bent on keeping my mom for themselves. Survived watching my twin being crushed to death. Brought my mate back from the dead.

I just have to channel some more of that bravery and tell my dads I'm a full-grown woman now, and they can't coddle me forever. Then again, I could always deflect and talk about how I'm pretty sure Bennett is already having sex with my best friend but both of them are tight-lipped about it. He's always sneaking out of the house to see Penelope, as if I didn't already know. I put a tracker on him at the beginning of the school year when we were facing all those threats from Kieran's grandma, Dean Frost.

Does he think I'll be mad? No way. Lopey needs someone like my brother. Strong, brave, and handsome. And he needs someone like her. Beautiful, loyal, and the kindest soul you'll ever meet.

Guilt pricks at me. I'm her best friend—one of her only friends—but I haven't been as present as I should for her. I make a mental note to respond to her text when I'm done. She's sent me several over the last few weeks and I've given her shorter responses than she deserves.

There's just so much on my shoulders right now.

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes, feeling the pressure build. The water shifts around me, pooling and swirling as I move my feet restlessly. It's so much. Too much at times. My mates, they're incredible—they've been nothing but supportive. But sometimes it'd be nice to just have one week where we can just … be. No having to save each other from certain death. No threats. No fate-of-the-realms-resting-on-my-shoulders. I know they're supportive. Wherever I go, they'll go. But things are going to change for us all?—

"Why are you pouting?"

The voice jolts me. My hands fly from my eyes as I jerk upright, sending a spray of water over the edge of the tub. My heart thunders as I spin to find Chaos sitting on the bathroom vanity, his legs crossed, watching me with that infuriating smirk. "Fuck, you scared the crap out of me!" I scowl at him, heat rising to my cheeks. "What are you doing in here?"

I rush to cover my breasts as I cross my legs, causing Chaos to smirk even bigger. "Nothing I haven't already seen, love."

My mouth drops open, and I make to utter all sorts of indignities, but I only manage to squeak out, "When?!"

He shrugs, gracefully hopping off the vanity to fully face me. His dark hair falls just above his shoulders, framing his chiseled cheekbones and strong jawline. The air around him carries an almost tangible heat. Or is that coming from me? "The first time I saw you, the second time I saw you?—"

"—When?"

"You and Mekhi swimming on Rexuna, changing in your bedroom, showering." He shrugs again, as if his casual peeping is just another day in his domain.

"What possessed you to think that was okay?" I scowl, my fingers tightening against my skin as I glare at him. He lifts a brow at me, unconcerned. I glance towards the door, wary of my mates hearing this confrontation.

His answer is the most infuriating thing I've ever heard.

"I've spelled the room. They can't hear you." His grin widens, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Again, why do you think it's okay to spy on me when I'm … when I'm …"

"Naked?"

"Naked!" I shout, trying to shuffle closer to the edge of the tub, but figuring I'd have to let go of my modesty to reach for a towel, so I stand here, awkwardly trying to cover up the good bits.

Chaos studies me, his smirk softening into something almost tender. "When you're at your most vulnerable, that's when you're the most real. It's like seeing a comet streaking across the sky, unexpected and brilliant." He leans against the vanity, crossing his arms casually as if he belongs there. "In those moments, there's nothing between us but the truth of who we are, without masks or walls. You let down your guard, and I see you for who you truly are, and it's breathtaking. It's like a glimpse into the heart of the universe, where everything is raw and unfiltered."

I open my mouth to speak, but find that I can't. Heat tingles behind my eyelids and prickles at my nose. I blink away the tears his words have summoned. He can't say such sweet things to me when I'm supposed to be livid with him.

He moves a step closer, his eyes tracing the outline of my silhouette through the shower's mist. "I know I shouldn't, but it's impossible to stay away. You're captivating in ways I can't explain, and when you're in your most private moments, it feels like I've been given a rare gift, one I can't take for granted."

His words send a shiver down my spine, not because of their poetry, but because of the dangerous undercurrent they carry. I need to show him some backbone or he'll spend the rest of our lives crossing boundaries he shouldn't. This god sets a trap that's hard to resist, but I push back anyway. "That's not how it works. I don't want you sneaking around like some thief in the night, stealing glimpses of me." My voice is sharp, the edge of irritation cutting through the honeyed words he spoke so fiercely. "Like a—" I stammer. "Like a ghost!"

He tilts his head, studying me like I'm a puzzle to be solved. "But that's where you're wrong. I don't have to sneak around. I'm not stealing anything, love. You're my soul bond. You're the other half of me, whether you want it or not. And when you try to hide, it's like you're keeping that part of me locked away."

"So, you get to hide, then?" I throw my hands up in frustration, the water splashing against the tiled walls. "Just because we're bonded doesn't mean you can waltz into my life and do whatever you want. There's a thing called boundaries." Yes, boundaries. Though I feel a tiny part of me hating that I've set any up at all.

Heat flushes my cheeks as I suddenly remember my state of undress. The realization hits me like a bucket of ice water, causing my body to involuntarily tense up. Chaos' eyes drop to my exposed breasts before I even have a chance to cover them, his gaze lingering there for a moment too long. I scowl, feeling embarrassed, irritated, and turned on by his blatant staring.

He licks his lips before his gaze makes a slow crawl up to meet my eyes. He chuckles when my skin gives off its always-inconvenient blue glow, the sound of his amusement a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the room. "Boundaries? Between soul bonds?" His laugh grows louder, the noise echoing off the shower tiles. "You and I both know that's a fantasy. Our fates are tied together. There's no escaping it, not for either of us. You can try to shut me out, but I'll always find a way in. You don't want boundaries between us, I don't want them, no soul bond does. That's the way it works."

His arrogance grates on me, but there's a part of me that can't deny the pull between us. It's maddening, infuriating, and yet there's a thrill to it that makes it hard to turn away. "You're speaking as if I've not had a soul bond before" I mutter, scrubbing my hands through my hair. "You're impossible."

"And you're irresistible," he retorts, his gaze locking onto mine, his cocky grin fading into something more serious. "And this is different. The stakes involved in the closeness of our bond …" He chews his lip. "So, what's it going to be, Rose? Are you going to keep running from this, or are you ready to accept that we're in this together?" His hand stills on his belt buckle, ready to tug it free. "Just say the word."

My mouth drops open at his blatant proposition, rendering me speechless yet again.

In a split second, my mind races with a thousand thoughts. I could tell him to leave, or I could storm past him to get to my mates. But would that be what I truly want? Or am I lying to myself just as much as I tried to lie to him?

My eyes narrow, the blue glow illuminating his face in an eerie light. I square my shoulders, forcing myself to meet his stare with a boldness I don't fully feel. "You may be my soul bond, but I'm still reconciling how to navigate that with my mates. They're on board, but reluctantly because they have to be. They don't know you yet. It's all so new. This, this—" I struggle to find the words, so he supplies me with some.

"Inescapable orbit?" he nearly purrs.

"Inescapable orbit, attraction, connection, whatever you want to call it," I snap, stepping closer to him. "It doesn't change the fact that my mates are still out there, waiting for me to get out of the shower while they work to make our home better. This isn't fair to them?—"

He raises a challenging eyebrow at me. "Not fair?" He tsks as he stalks towards me. I backpedal until my back meets the cold stone wall. Chaos doesn't stop pursuing me until he's pinned me there, his hands on either side of my head, his hard body so close to mine there's barely room for breath. Water drenches his fitted t-shirt and drips off his hair. His dark gaze fixates on me, hunger in every pore, his nostrils flaring as he inhales my scent.

He stares at my lips for so long, and I think he's about to move in to kiss me, but instead, he pauses at my ear. "What's not fair is knowing you're out there. Every day. With them." His voice is a low growl against my ear, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine.

I close my eyes, trying to fight off the surge of emotions coursing through me.

"But I sit here, waiting. Thirsty in the desert while the water flows freely everywhere else. What's not fair is that you're standing in front of me, with your beating heart and your soul that calls out to mine, and yet you deny us both that connection," he whispers, his breath washing over my skin. "What's not fair is that you are denying this." He presses his hips against mine, and involuntarily, a soft moan passes my lips as I arch into it, the thick length of his denim-clad cock resting between us. "Denying yourself of the happiness we could have. You have other mates to help soften the blow. The one that comes from denying that which fate has decided for you. I don't have that luxury and it's agonizing. As though I'm being flayed alive. For thousands of years, magic has waned. But now that I've found you? It's splintered me in two—knocked me so far off my axis that I don't think I'll ever get back."

His voice comes out garbled, as though it's caught in his throat. "But fuck magic. Fate can strip it from my bones and call me to ash, because none of it matters anymore. You want me to bleed? I'll give you a knife. Want me on my knees? Fine." He sinks in front of me, the spray of water drenching his hair, clinging to his lashes as he blinks up at me. I watch the bob of his throat as he swallows. "My soul needs yours. But not as much as I need you." He gathers my hands in front of me, pressing his lips to them. "You want me to beg? I'll beg. Send out missives to the far reaches of all the realms that I am yours. Body, mind, and soul."

His words hang in the air, like the last note of a song that echoes long after the band has stopped playing. My breath hitches, caught in my throat as if his words were tangible and they'd lodged themselves there. The intensity of his gaze, combined with the wet heat of his body against mine, sends a rush of desire coursing through my veins. I feel it in every pore, every nerve ending; a corporeal, electric current igniting a fierce ache in the pit of my stomach. I shutter my eyes, too afraid of what I might see in his if I open them again.

He rises to his feet to hold me. "You're afraid," he murmurs, echoing my thoughts. His fingertips trace an idle path along my cheekbones, down my throat, stopping at the pulse point just below my ear, where he can feel the slightest tremble of my heart beating against his touch. "Afraid of what this could mean. Afraid of how much you desire me. This. Us. But let me ask you this—did you feel any shame about mating Jax, Deakan, or Mekhi?"

I don't open my eyes but shake my head. I always knew I wanted many mates. A house full of love. It's loud and chaotic, but I love it. So, so much.

I prayed for love like this before I met my mates. So why am I resisting so hard? Who I thought was just a possessive, obsessive god is so much more than that. He's vulnerable. Hurting. Ready to have me the moment I give him the okay.

"Then let me show you," he murmurs huskily, threading his fingers through my wet hair and tilting my head back to expose my neck. His lips graze the column of my throat, gentle as a whisper, and I gasp at the delicious thrill of it. "Let me show you how good we can be together. Let me show you that this … us … it isn't something to be feared. It's something to be cherished."

My lashes flutter open in time to see his attention on my lips, the heat of a thousand suns in his golden-green eyes, exposed and unfiltered. His lips brush against mine, soft, gentle and unsure. He then pulls back to gaze into my eyes, searching for something.

What he sees in my heavy-lidded gaze must give him the answer he seeks. His hesitation vanishes, replaced by a feral look.

"There she is," he breathes, his voice barely audible over the pounding rush in my ears. His hand cradles my face with tender possessiveness as he draws my lips back to his.

His kiss this time possesses a raw, primal intensity that leaves me breathless. His hand molds to the curve of my spine, drawing me closer until our bodies are pressed even more tightly together. I feel the hard planes of his chest against the softness of my own, and there's no denying the yearning that pulses through me—each beat of my heart echoing his name. The taste of him, the feel of his body, is a sensory overload that I want to drown in forever.

This is right, it feels so right. A surge of certainty washes over me. These words throb through my veins, pouring itself into every little space inside me, infusing every fiber of my being with an exhilarating clarity. The doubts that once gnawed at me dissolve in the heat of his touch, each caress confirming what fate has decreed. My heart beats a wild, rhythmic tattoo against my ribs, echoing the truth that pulsates deep within: this connection, this soul-deep alignment with Chaos, is not just fate—it's a profound homecoming. The world around us might as well be a blur, for nothing else penetrates the bubble of rightness that envelops us. With every breath, every touch, we weave tighter the bond that destiny itself has spun, and I surrender to the joyous reality that what once felt like betrayal is, in truth, the path meant for me.

Water spills over us from the shower head, but it might as well be air, as I hardly feel it anymore.

His hands roam my body with a possessiveness that stirs a deep need within me. Thick fingers trace trails of fire down my sides, igniting sparks that settle between my thighs. Power thrums from every inch of him—not suffocating, but mingling with my own, because that's how it feels to have him pressed against me:

Powerful.

Like he'd set the world on fire if I wanted to watch it burn.

I tear myself away from him, breathing heavy, and his lips chase mine. In his eyes is a possessiveness that flays me wide open.

Wet, raven-colored hair sticks to his tanned forehead, and drops of water clings to his lashes.

He's beautiful.

A smile splits his face, and it's like the whole world tilts on its axis. I have to steady myself by pressing my palms flat to the chiseled rock behind me.

As he reaches behind him to pull off his drenched t-shirt, my breath catches in my throat. The fabric clings to his tattooed body, emphasizing every toned muscle and curve. Drops of water glisten on his skin, like diamonds scattered across a marble statue. My eyes trace the lines and contours of his physique, feeling admiration and desire wash over me. He is a masterpiece, a work of art brought to life before my very eyes.

"I love the way you look at me," he whispers against my temple, his breath sending a smattering of goosebumps racing across my skin.

"How is that?"

"Like you're not sure whether you want to eat me or have me in you." A throaty chuckle leaves him before he licks his lips.

I trace the path his tongue makes against his bottom lip with my thumb.

"We could do both. At the same time."

When my hand went to his face, I don't know. Nor do I know when my other went to his shoulder. I can't seem to keep them off of him.

As soon as his words catch up to my brain, I snatch my hands back, but before I can return them to the wall, he captures them. He brings one above my head, pinning it to the wall, and the other, he brings to his belt buckle.

He keeps it there, letting me know I'm in control of how far we take this. But that's where he's wrong. I've lost all control. His presence swallows me whole, and the taste of him leaves my head spinning.

The metal is cool under my hand, and I drop my attention to it, running my fingers over the smooth surface.

From the corner of my eye, I notice the sharp intake of his breath, and the corners of my mouth lift into a coy smile. I make a show of unbuckling his belt, my fingers tracing the worn leather before finally releasing it as I meet his darkening gaze.

His waterlogged jeans, finally released of their hold, fall to the tub floor before he kicks them behind him. He takes a moment to savor the look on my face with a predatory hunger. "Well done," he praises in that husky, rich voice. Delight reflects in his shining eyes, and I find that I can't take mine off of him. Not even to look down, but oh, do I so desperately want to.

Internally, I preen at his praise, and his eyes flash with a knowing gleam. His fingers brush my cheek in a soft caress, as though I'm far too precious for this world and the next. I want him to touch me more—everywhere and nowhere at once—yet his touch is both too much and not enough.

He hooks an arm around my waist, pulling me against his hard, naked torso. I can feel each rise and fall of his chest, and I know I'm not the only one affected by this. Trapped between us lies a thick and throbbing reminder of his desire for me.

Chaos lowers his head, his breath a cool whisper against my feverish skin. He brings my hand to his cock, wrapping my fingers around the silken heat of him. An involuntary whimper escapes me at the size of it.

"When we mate for the first time, it won't be hidden away in a shower away from the eyes of your other mates."

Shock ripples through me. "We're not?—"

"Not today."

Equal parts disappointment and relief fills me until he shatters it.

"If we mate now, you'll ascend, and I don't think that's something you're ready to experience yet. In fact, I know it's not."

A current of fear, electric and hot, strikes me as my mouth drops open. "You mean if we have sex, I'll become a god? Like immediately?"

He smirks down at me, and that's when I realize my hand is still holding his cock and I yank away my touch as though I've been burned. "There's a little more ritual involved, but it starts the process, and must be completed within twenty-four hours."

"And if it doesn't?"

He shrugs. "I die."

A searing, hot pain slices through my chest, so sudden and sharp that it steals my breath away. As the room begins to spin, my knees weaken, threatening to buckle beneath me. He's quick to react, his arms wrapping around me just as I start to collapse. Gently, he scoops me up, cradling me against his chest. His hand rises to caress my cheek, the touch a soothing counterpoint to the current of fear inside me as I reel from the news, each second stretching out as I try to grasp the reality of his words.

Rose

"You die?" I sputter out.

"It's the only way you can kill me. Magic would die, too." Chaos lowers us to the tub floor, still cradling me against his chest as though I'm the most precious thing in the world, and not like he's just dropped a bomb in my chest.

Tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes, I clench my fist against him. "Be honest with me."

"Always."

"Is that why magic is dying?"

He takes a large intake of breath before slowly releasing it. "Life was never meant to be permanent. It was always meant to be shared with others. I've been alive for more than millions of years. The first one-hundred-thousand of those, it was just me before I created animals. Then I made the first luna fae to share my magic with."

I stiffen in his arms. Jealousy, ugly and hot, rises inside me. Sensing this, he chuckles before pressing his warm lips to my forehead.

"He was more of a colleague than even a friend." His emphasis on the word he, along with the word colleague, eases the pain in my chest marginally. "Together, we created the merfae next. Created rules for magic. For how the universe works."

"But the rules of magic, they have limits, don't they?" I prod, trying to untangle the knot of implications in his words. "It can't just sustain endlessly without consequence."

Chaos nods solemnly, his golden-green eyes darkening with the weight of eons. "Exactly. Magic feeds on life, and life, in return, sustains on magic. It's a balance—a give and take that has been upset."

"Upset by what? By who?" The urgency in my voice surprises even me. The warm water of the tub encases us, but the chill of his revelations seeps deeper.

He shifts slightly, adjusting us so he can face me more directly. "By longevity that was never meant to be. By me." His voice is a mere whisper, strained with regret. "I've held on too tightly, for too long. My existence has started to drain the very essence of magic I once sought to nurture."

The honesty in his confession stings, like salt on an open wound. "So, what happens now?" My voice trembles, like the ripples that dance across the surface of the water that's pooling in the tub.

Chaos's hand comes up to cup my cheek, his touch a paradox of both fire and ice. "Now, I choose to change the course. For magic, for the universe, and for us. You are not just my soul bonded mate by choice or chance. Though, I'm damned happy for it. You are the renewal magic needs. Your bond with me, and your bonds with the others—they might just be what restores the balance."

The weight of his gaze, heavy with millennia of knowledge and sorrow, pins me in place. "But at a cost," I whisper, understanding beginning to dawn.

"Yes, a cost," he confirms, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a somber sort of resolve. "But one I'm willing to pay if it means the survival of magic—and a chance for happiness, for you, for all. I don't just need to divide my power amongst you all, I want to."

"So we have to mate. Eventually." I don't want to ask it, but need to know. "Couldn't you mate with someone else?"

A heartbreakingly sad smile lifts the corner of his lips. "You're the only person to have ever touched my cock. The only one to have ever aroused me."

"What?" I breathe.

"When we designed the laws of the universe, creating soul bonded mates made sense. We made it so that only your soul bonded mate could awaken any sexual desire. The tools, the equipment, just didn't work otherwise, because we saw how badly jealousy destroyed lives. But over millennia, we witnessed with heartbreaking clarity why we needed to give the fae more freedom. Some soul bonds died before ever meeting their mates. Others fell in love with someone else before a soul bond came along. In some fae orders, like our first creation—the merfae, who can only mate with their anchors—it makes sense to have them mate only for life. Most others, not so much."

"But you had already made the first rule apply to you before realizing your mistake." Grief catches in my throat. For millions of years, he could've had a mate to keep him company.

He adjusts our positions, settling me so I'm straddling his waist, ensuring our gazes meet directly. His eyes are fierce, his expression intense. "I would've waited millennia more for you if I knew you'd been waiting for me at the end of it all. And if you decide not to mate with me, and if that means myself and all magic should perish, I will die happy, just knowing what it's like to bask in your glow, even if only for a moment."

A tear escapes, tracing a warm path down my cheek.

As the implications of his words settle around us like a descending fog, his confession reshapes everything I thought I knew about my destiny. It's no longer just about love or power. It's about the survival of an entire essence that binds the world together. And somehow, I'm at the center of it all.