Ella
I was about to climb onto the frozen railing when two robed figures appeared on either side of me, their faces both familiar and strange. Something about them triggered alarms in my mind, but not the usual kind. It felt as though I was trying to remember something from another life… from someone else's life.
I had no idea where they came from, and I didn't care. Cora was safe at the orphanage, and they couldn't do worse to me than what I'd already survived. Maybe this was fate answering my question, giving me a way out in its typically morbid fashion. Perhaps an icy plunge was too easy an end; perhaps I needed one final agony. "Are you here to kill me?" I asked, in a voice I didn't recognize.
"Do you want to die?" one asked, leaning his arms against the icy metal.
"It's not that I want to die," I hiccuped, tears freezing on my cheeks. "It's just that I don't want to live if this is all life has to offer… and I'm afraid this is all there is. I have no reason to believe otherwise." I shook my head. "They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. So, I'd be crazy to think I can keep meeting the sun each morning without inviting more heartache… wouldn't I?"
"That depends. What you call crazy, others might call hope," the second man replied, without looking at or touching me. The three of us stared out at the frozen expanse, sharing the same melancholy, watching the river rushing far below the ice.
"Hope is a privilege for those born in the light," I replied, unsure where the words came from. "They know the darkness is only temporary because they don't belong there… but how am I to believe in light when I've never seen it?"
"And if we were to give you a glimpse of the future?" the first man offered. "If we were to show you a vision of the life you might have one day, if you find the will to believe despite your experiences?"
"You can do that?" I asked, turning to look at him for the first time.
"Only if you are brave enough to take the risk," the second answered.
"And only if you are willing to fight for your future," the first man added. "The vision we give you will only be a possibility—one in a hundred—of the person you might become if you refuse to give up. It is not guaranteed, and it is not entirely in your control. Countless actions and decisions shape our futures, and we can only tell you that this may come to pass if everything goes right."
"Show me," I begged, somehow believing they had this power, even though there's no such thing as magic. Perhaps I'd lost my mind. Perhaps I'd already jumped, and this was all a hallucination.
The robed men took hold of my hands in perfect synchrony, and I let them. As our palms connected, a brilliant white light surged between our skin. It was so bright I had to shut my eyes, but it didn't hurt—it didn't burn me as it probably should have. Energy surged through my body, so potent and wild that I felt like I was being electrocuted. I opened my mouth to cry out, but before any sound escaped, a torrent of color burst into my mind's eye.
I saw a woman who looked exactly like me, only much older. Her belly wasn't bloated with hunger; her skin wasn't lifeless and pale. She was clean and healthy, wearing a dress that must have cost more than everything I'd ever owned—combined. She moved with such easy grace, and when she smiled, I understood why people told me I was beautiful.
The woman was looking at something I couldn't see, grinning with an overwhelming joy I couldn't comprehend. Then I saw a man more than twice her size, as handsome as he was terrifying. He moved with the lethal grace of a predator, and there was a vicious edge to his bronzed, raven-haired beauty. He approached her like a wolf stalking its prey, but she wasn't afraid. He pulled her into his strong arms and kissed her; when they parted, she looked down at a tiny bundle in his arms.
They cooed and crooned over a baby with rose-gold hair and a pink bow, pulling faces and tickling the infant's swaddled tummy. Then a rush of pure exuberance burst into the scene, and three bundles of energy zoomed into sight: a boy around five, a miniature version of him, and an angelic-looking girl with the same coloring as the baby. They piled into a group hug, their father scooping up the older children while his wife cradled the youngest. I could hear their laughter, but I could feel it too. Their happiness was foreign to me, yet so contagious; watching them made me feel as if I'd swallowed the sun. Was this what they felt every day? Was it possible to be so full of emotion when the void inside me was so bottomless?
The vision disappeared as quickly as it came, and when I opened my eyes, they were full of tears. "That's me?" I choked. "I could have a family one day? That family?"
"Only if you are willing to fight for it," the second man repeated. "Nothing is handed to us in life, especially not this. It will be a difficult road ahead, but there are rewards at the end if you're brave enough to make the journey."
"Haven't I already been through enough?" I asked, wondering why some people seem to be handed everything while others constantly struggle.
"The trials you've overcome have ensured you're strong enough to win the fight, but you have to enter it yourself. You have to want to win, Ella," the first man explained.
"How do you know my name?" I asked, but I never got an answer. The men turned and walked away, and ten minutes later, I didn't remember meeting them. In fact, I didn't remember why I was out there in the middle of the night or what I was doing on that bridge. Certain I was going to freeze to death, I hurried back to the orphanage and my sister, praying no one had noticed my absence.
The memory faded as Leon called me back to the present. "Come back to us, now," he encouraged. "You did so well."
"I'm here, Ella," Sinclair purred, his lips grazing my tear-stained cheek. "I'm here, I've got you."
I opened my eyes and found my mate watching me with shining eyes. His hand rested on my swollen middle, calming our unborn pup as I struggled to resurface. "I saw you," I told him in amazement. "I saw you… and Rafe," I recalled, remembering the oldest boy in the vision. "There were other pups, too."
"I know," Sinclair beamed, kissing me softly. "I know, baby. I'm so proud of you."
"Does that…" I trailed off, trying to understand. "Does that mean we're fated somehow?"
Sinclair frowned. "Wolves only get one fated mate, sweetheart. I think that was just a possibility of our paths crossing one day if you chose to live. You heard what the priests said—nothing they showed you was guaranteed."
"But you told me sometimes mates are fated, not because they're good together, but in order to become the people they're meant to be," I reminded him stubbornly. "I was born to unite humans and wolves in this war, and you were destined to lead the resistance. You had to be with Lydia to become the man you are today… to reach this point in your life without children so that you would turn to the sperm bank precisely when I did. If you hadn't, my wolf would never have awakened, and we would never have Rafe… what is that if not fate?"
Sinclair smiled tenderly. "Maybe you're right… after all, these sessions have taught us that shifters don't understand our world nearly as well as we think we do. Maybe it's possible to have more than one destined mate."
For a long moment, we were lost in each other's eyes, and soon the twirly sensations returned. However, Leon, ever the therapist, brought us back to earth.
"Ella, I think we might be better served addressing the things that took you to that bridge in the first place," Leon suggested.
"Leon?" Sinclair responded, not taking his eyes off me.
"Yes, Alpha?" the therapist inquired eagerly.
Put a sock in it.