I give Poppy to Postite Banio before I stumble into the garden and sit heavily on one of the stone benches overlooking the tomb city below. A warm body curls into my lap, a raspy, dry tongue licking my fingers.

"I can't be this male, Alnue," I tell the gargoyle. "I am not capable of hurting my Fated, my Sprite. Not like that."

He makes a soft noise of contentment as I stroke his smooth ears.

"You don't think that I'm him, right?" I ask, feeling slightly foolish asking a stone creature such a question.

He looks up at me, black eyes blinking. Chattering solemnly, both his front paws cup my cheeks. His tail spins, poking at my tattoo of the Recondites.

"I am Thelios," I tell him.

He nods, then settles back into my lap, nipping my fingers when I don't start petting him immediately again.

"I need a plan," I sigh. I'm terrible at plans.

He purrs.

---

The statue of the god is ominous without my Flame next to me.

"Nateos," I fall to my knees, so much to say, but not knowing how to put my erratic thoughts into words.

"I am not him. I swear it isn't true. I am not her betrayer.

I am Thelios. I am Mara's Fated male. Not... not him."

I lurch to my feet, anger taking over the uncertainty. "I know I am not him! It doesn't matter what that female says, I am not her bonded. I am not a son of that House. I am not a liar, a betrayer, a murderer." I take a deep breath, agony digging into my heart and lungs like tiny daggers. "I would never hurt my Flame. I couldn't hurt her."

I stare at the god's face in the statue. Silence weighs oppressively. Heavy, meaningful, but I don't know what it means. Does the god disapprove of me? Is he indifferent?

I kneel by the pool. "I never thanked you, Nateos, Death, Lord of the Underworld, for giving me your daughter. I pray that I will be worthy of her."

I feel the shove on my back as if the hands of a giant pushed me. I fall into the pool face-first, undignified, with the water rushing up my nose. I fight instinctively to the top of the pool, to take a breath, but I'm sinking, heavy as a boulder.

I am too warm and something is tickling my nose. The hellfire in this place is ungodly after the coldness of the pits.

When I open my eyes it's to a confectionary of a bed in a room that is white and far too pink to be anywhere near my own blankets.

"Fuck," I curse out loud as I push the layers of gauzy lace quilts off of me. Above me more organza floats as the canopy of the bed that I am on.

It's elevated, with white painted stairs leading down to the travertine tile floor. In the corner there is a sunken pool lined with balt salts in glass jars. It's tempting to bathe, just a quick one, to wipe my skin clean of the scent of sex and female. I don't bother, I don't want to linger here. I can wash myself in the river.

It's a beautiful room, if you like feeling as though you are immersed in a high-end prostitute's boudoir. Too fancy and too fussy for my tastes. I want blood on my teeth and my blades, the chill of the cold dark, the silence of the hunt. Instead I am nude of my blades, and of clothes, and trapped in a luxurious cage.

"Thelios," the beautiful female approaching me is wearing next to nothing, just a scrap of gauzy light blue cloth barely covering her most 'secretive' places. Not that those places are very secretive. She shares them too easily, especially with a vicious killer like me.

"Love," I keep my voice neutral, no sense in letting her know that all I want is to flee back to the pits of the Underworld. I bend to find my pants on the floor where she stripped them off of me last night before taking me in her mouth. The memory does nothing to get a rise out of me. She leaves me cold, even if I'm sweating in her fancy bordello.

"Are you leaving so soon?" she asks. There is a sharpness to her, a nasty streak of desperation. I know better than to anger a goddess. Especially a goddess who has decided that she wants the best warrior in all the realms to grace her bed, so I don't tell her how cold she leaves me.

I am tired of being nothing but a trophy. I am cold. Cold enough that her big blue-green eyes do nothing to entice me back to her bed. "There are stirrings in the pits of Gano lizards," I excuse myself.

She huffs, but says nothing as I finish dressing and leave without looking at her again.

My eyes spring open on the most intoxicating sight. So different from the female who ices over my heart. My Flame, my warmth, nude and bathing in the pool. I rise, but she doesn't notice me, her eyes gently closed as she pours water over her body.

My mouth runs dry at the sight of water rivulets running over her silken flesh. The ice-cold queen in my vision fades, fire replaces her, red and golden bounty that I have to touch, to kiss, to hold. My female, I hold her innocence, she is all for me.

"Mara," I rasp out.

She shrieks, spinning, her hands covering herself inadequately with her hands. Her luscious flesh spills over and damn it's fucking beautiful.

"Thelios! I swear by my father you are too quiet. How did you sneak up on me so easily?" she says, exasperated.

I feel the smile pull at my lips. My fire.

I stride to her, watching her eyes widen on me as I grasp her to my body. So warm. I take her mouth with mine, moving across her lips sensuously, telling her without words that she moves me to insanity. She tastes of warmth, of sunshine and love.

"Thelios," she whispers against my lips. Her lips are bee-stung, swollen and reddened, her eyes half-lidded with lust for me. I tangle my hands in her hair and hold her head tight as I kiss her again, maybe a little too hard.

I run one hand down her back to her pert little ass. It's fuller than it was just a few months ago. I feed her from my body and her soft curves show it. I squeeze her and am rewarded with her soft mewls of need as she wraps her legs around my waist.

"I need you, Mara." I can't put into words how much I need her.

"What are you waiting for?" she pants back. Those sharp little fangs nip my neck, just playing.

Hoisting her body, I plunge myself into her, not caring that I'm taking Death's daughter in the sacred pool... again. Let Nateos punish me. I need my Flame.

"Thelios," she gasps out. I fall into her dark eyes, let myself burn in her. I feel the water around us bubble and froth, I am taking her like an animal, like the male from my vision would take a female. I can't stop, can't pull away or slow down.

And she doesn't want me to. Everything I give her she takes and begs for more. She screams, suddenly, her back bowing, thrusting her round globes into range of my mouth. I take the invitation and suck one into my mouth.

She swears and another, smaller ripple shudders through her body. I let her come down before I start moving again.

"Thelios," she breathes, satisfaction and love coloring her voice. Languidly, she leans forward and bites into my neck.

I howl as I cum in her.

We are both gasping, shaken, when I finally have the strength to pull us to the edge of the pool.

"I am yours, Sprite. I swear it. I promise I am yours," I ramble against her sweet-smelling skin.

"Shh, Thelios, what happened?" she asks me softly, her hands stroking my back and hair.

I can't tell her what I saw. What I did, if my vision was correct. I'd rather not know, I like to think that Mara is my only lover, that I am not tainted by the hands of another female, even a goddess.

"I can't imagine destroying you. You are everything to me. I would destroy this very temple and let Nateos rip apart my soul to see you smile. I lived in the shadows before you. I was cold. You are my fire, my hope."

---

With every word he speaks pieces of my new heart break and fall away. Not because of my pain, but because of his. I still don't know if Thelios' coming here is part of Thane's punishment or redemption, but it seems that Thelios, my Thelios, is suffering regardless of Nateos' intentions.

His eyes are begging for me to say something, to agree, to give him the hope he claims I represent.

I can't. His pledge of devotion to me is a cruel reminder of a similar pledge I heard what seems like a lifetime ago,

She is my intended bonded. I can't ever be with you, Parijan. I will defy the goddess herself for her. She is perfection, my future, my wife. You are nothing but a mistake. You will never be anything to me. Never my bonded, never my wife.

His hands are wiping my tears off of my face as he calls my name.

"Mara? Sprite, look at me," he demands, giving me a little shake.

"Parijan," I whisper. I look into his confused grey eyes. "The girl... I was, me, my name was Parijan. They struck it from the city records when I was condemned. As if I never existed," I explain.

"It still hurts. To be wiped away as if my existence was wronging the people. How many names have been stricken from the records? It was so puzzling, I couldn't understand the hatred. I asked biblio Thrip once. He told me only sixteen names have been erased, ever, all of them traitors. Parijan is a hated girl and Thane of the First House was her victim."

"You and I both know that nothing about that story is true," Thelios tells me. His panic has lessened, comforting me to have my strong man back.

"Yes, but Thane of the First House-"

"Is not me," he says firmly.

"No, but..." I offer. I try to explain, "Thane was as adamant of his love as you are of yours, Thelios. Until he just... wasn't, one day."

When I tell him that his eyes darken and he turns his head away from me.

I look at him in the silence of the temple. Only my occasional hiccuping breath can be heard.

"Fair enough," he finally says quietly, turning those grey eyes back to me. "I don't know what happened before, but I do love you, Mara, and I know you. I know you and I know how I feel. You and our poppet are my family. Nothing will change in how I feel about you."

"If I am-was Thane, then I know I need to prove that I am Thelios, now. I will, Mara. I have no doubt of that at all. You are my only love."

I whisper, "what is special about me?"

I honestly don't know. I was a normal child of the Fifth House. Nothing unusual about me. I wasn't too pretty or too ugly or too smart or too dumb. I never displayed any amazing talent. I was just a simple girl. Why was I paired with Thane of the First House? I can't imagine, can't possibly wrap my head around the idea of becoming the Lady of the House. To step into the role currently claimed by Anthea? It gives me the shudders to even think about it. I love my Thelios, but who is he?

Why does my Bond with Thelios exist if he isn't Thane?

Most importantly, why did Death choose me to be his daughter in the flesh? I know that I am special, because Nateos deems it so. But why? Why me out of all those other girls? I am not the only bride rejected by my fated, surely? And, even if I was somehow the unluckiest girl alive, why did Death care?

Injustice and greed fill this world we live in. Most of us must take what we can, protect ourselves and our loved ones as best we can.

What makes me special?

Daughter

You are not afraid.

I look up into Nateos' face. As usual the stern countenance of Death is soft. I smile at him with tears coursing down my cheeks.

"I am afraid," I confess to him.

His smile broadens, then the living visage fades back into the cold stone statue.

"You are not afraid of him, my sprite," Thelios' voice makes me turn back to the male whose arms cradle me. "That is what Death means."

He chuckles sadly. "You are special because you did not fear Death when you were dying. You do not fear him now. I think... I think we all fear him a little, because we fear the unknown and want to cling to what we know. But you, you don't fear him."

"I am afraid," I insist. I don't know why, I just feel as if Nateos, and now Thelios, are forcing my hand somehow.

"Of spiders, sprite?" he teases me gently.

I look at him steadily until his face blurs from the tears in my eyes. "Of losing you again," I choke out.

"Mara, my love," his husky voice wraps around me as strongly as his arms. He just holds me tight to him for a minute. "I can't make love to you in the sacred pool again. Nateos will surely strike me down and I do fear him."

I let out a little laugh at his joke. "Anthea came to visit me today," I tell him.

Both of our smiles fall.

"She spoke to me, too. Is that where this sudden uncertainty is coming from?" Thelios asks me grimly as he stands, walking out of the pool with me cradled in his arms.

"Yes," I huff. I hate that Anthea could affect my mood so drastically.

"My sweet Mara. I don't recognize her. I don't feel for that woman. I don't understand why that other male ever did."

"Maybe he didn't," I say with a sigh, laying my head on his shoulder.

"Tell me," he begs softly, wrapping us in one of the soft blankets in the antechamber. "Tell me what your theory is, little sprite. I'm becoming desperate for answers."

I gaze into those grey eyes. I used to hate his eyes. Well, that's not true, I told myself that I hated that those eyes, but only because they lacked any love for me. Now they are filled to the brim with adoration every time Thelios even so much as glances my way.

"I think that- that Thane- believed a stupid prophecy," I say. "Love's oracle said this:

The son of the First House shall be given this gift: a mate of unsurpassed beauty and strength, a female of greatness in spirit and form. Together they will rule this city beyond even death."

He frowns, "what could it truly mean, Sprite? You are an unparalleled beauty and-"

"No, Thelios," I put my head on his shoulder. "I wasn't anything special until my father took pity on me."

"I think we just spoke about how special you are and always were, Sprite"

My father silently gives his approval.

I pick my head up and roll my eyes at Thelios. "It's a stupid prophecy. A great female? Blah, blah, blah. It's a prophecy given to powerful nobles to shut them up!"

He blinks at me in wry amusement. I explain further, "that prophecy could be about any number of females. There nothing so specific that it rules out anyone. If it spoke of red hair or the Fifth House or-"

"It speaks of Death, Sprite," he says softly. "They will rule even in Death."

I wrinkle my nose at him. "Still stupid."

He taps my nose with his forefinger. "Cheeky little female. A priestess should listen to the prophecies."

I look away from his burning gaze. He's right, but everything about that prophecy feels wrong to me.

"Marry me?"

I don't hear him at first. My astonishment makes me blind and deaf.

"Sprite? Will you wed me?"

"Thelios..." I say his name uncertainly. Where did this sudden urge come from?

"A bonding?" I whisper.

He shakes his head, frustration clear in his eyes. "I can't do that. We can't. Because of our positions and vows, I know that, my Sprite. I... just a wedding. A celebration. I'm tired of looking toward the past, or just thinking about my lack of memories," he admits quietly.

"Death and War... those temples don't do weddings, Thelios." I am still trying to muddle through the oddity of Thelios' idea. "Do you want the Mother temple to do it? But they don't do weddings, just blessings. It's all Love. We would have to go to the Fifth District."

"I was thinking," he says slowly. "That you should see your mother. The First House ladies have seen your face. You don't have to hide anymore," he says softly. "We can have a small ceremony and she can see that her daughter is still alive, meet Poppy?"

I can't breathe. My mother. I have pushed aside every memory of her because just thinking of the pain she must be in, not knowing what happened to me, is excruciating.

I was so selfish, I realize. I didn't understand before, just how much pain she is in. If Poppy disappeared, died, but she was still alive, how would I feel? I would be desperate to see her.

"Alright," I say softly.

"Yes?" a smile stretches across his face. His grey eyes light up in pleasure.

He picks me up and whirls me around. "I'm so happy, Sprite. I need to claim you in some way. I want everyone to know that you're mine."

"And you're mine," I reply instantly.

His smile fades to a knowing smirk, "yes, I am," he says as he bends to kiss me.