Chapter Thirty-Two

Aunt Circe? Did he just say aunt?

"Hello, Nicholas." Beautiful red lips part in a smile. A tendril of her wavy, raven-black hair falls over one shoulder as she dips her head towards me in greeting. "Rhiannon."

I blink rapidly. "I don't understand… you are Nick's aunt?"

"I am."

I whirl to face Nick, whose own baffled expression must mirror my own. "Circe is your aunt, the devious witch you warned me about and initially fought me against meeting?"

His eyes narrow. "I had no idea how she would react to seeing you. She could have killed you on the spot, despite my presence. "

Circe shrugs indolently. "He's right."

"But that's the thing, you wouldn't have," I argue. "Otherwise, why help my father cloak my Thread?" I wince as the words leave my mouth, the realization that I called Cronus "father" twisting my insides.

The Titan, however, preens at the recognition.

"There is obviously much we need to discuss," Circe says with a flippant toss of her hair, like she isn't standing before three of the most feared entities of our myth about to face punishment. "But this is neither the time, nor the place." She fixes her emerald green eyes on me. "I told you once that Scylla and I were like sisters, so of course, I would do whatever I could to protect her only child. Trust in that, and when all of this has passed, come find me, and we will have a chat about your mother."

"You assume there will be any piece of you left when all of this has passed," Atropos sneers at the witch.

Circe rolls her eyes, and astonishment rattles my bones at her cavalier demeanor. "As for the three of you," she sets her icy stare on the Moirai, "what the fuck do you want?"

"Unveil Rhiannon's Thread," Lachesis says with an uncharacteristic bite in her tone.

Circe looks at me. "Is that what you want? "

I don't hesitate. "Yes."

The witch approaches me, caution blaring in her gaze. "If I do this, you will be exposed to them. There is no going back."

"I understand, Circe. But it must be done. We don't have a choice."

"We?" She arches a dark brow.

"Nick and I," I clarify. "He's going to die. I-"

Circe holds up a hand. "I am well aware of his Prophecy." She glances behind me at her nephew. "And you are fine with her doing this?"

I turn around to find Nick lifting his shoulders. "As if I could stop her from making her own decisions, Aunt Circe. The only time I intervene is when her life is threatened," he says pointedly, shooting daggers at the Moirai.

A smile tugs at my lips.

"Very well." Circe gestures to Cronus. "You, stand here and take her hand."

Cronus moves to my side and gingerly holds out his palm. I place my hand in his, the fingers of his enormous hand swallowing mine whole. Circe places her own hand directly over my heart. Her green eyes sear me.

"Last chance to change your mind."

"Just do it. "

Circe murmurs incoherently, and the sparks dancing in Clotho's palm steal my attention. The sisters watch together, wide-eyed, as the sparks die down, revealing a scintillating, gilded Thread alongside Nick's glistening onyx one. Then, the strangest thing happens. The two meld together, snapping together with such ferocity it's as though they were wrenched together by a magnetic force. Something in my chest tightens and constricts, and a sensation so boundless, so staggering, rockets through my blood like a bolt of lightning, leaving jolts of electricity in its wake. Tears fall to my cheeks as the urge to be engulfed in Nick's arms is overwhelming, to feel the beating of his heart and the breaths within his chest as though they are my own.

The sisters' eyes are wide with their own surprise, but it's Atropos who says, gleefully, "Well, look at what we have here."

I assess the expressions of Cronus and Circe. Cronus wears a mask of boredom, because, of course, he knew this already - whatever this is. Circe's face is relaxed and somewhat pensive, though tension subtly lines her forehead.

"I don't understand." I wipe the tears falling freely down my cheeks as Nick's arms wrap around me. I glance up at him. "Nick-" I falter when I find his own face wet with tears. "What is going on? Why are you so sad?" I can only assume they are tears of sadness, even though the tears that still fall down my face are anything but. I feel elated. Complete. Whole. Like I've spent lifetimes searching for something unattainable, only for it to be found at this very moment.

"I'm not sad, Rhi." Nick kisses the top of my head. "Not at all."

"Then what-"

"Look at our Threads." His voice tickles the shell of my ear. I sink back into him, his hands falling to my waist. "Do you see how perfectly they entwine? How they cling to one another as if no force in this world could ever tear them apart?"

I nod, interlacing my fingers over his. "What does that mean?"

His fingers find my chin, tilting my lips towards his. "It means…" He turns me fully in his arms, so I have no choice but to stare into my favorite pair of eyes, bright and burning like twin flames of desire, and his mouth hovers tauntingly above my own before finishing his sentence. "…you and I are soulmates."