What Sleeps Within the Cove (Of Flesh & Bone, #4)

by Harper L. Woods

For all the Fates claimed they had plans for me, those plans seemed to involve my death more often than not.

“One day, you may understand that we have greater responsibilities to the world than we do to our loved ones. Estrella may be my daughter, but she is also capable of bringing great harm to the world if I do not weigh her carefully. I must know what she is capable of to know if she is ready for the responsibility I will soon lay at her feet,” he said, releasing Medusa finally to give me the full force of his glare. “Your world depends on it.”

“Then you make them bleed for what they’ve done to you,” she said, the resolve on her face hinting at what she hadn’t dared to hope for, the very thing none had dared to consider. “And when they call me a monster, too?” Estrella asked, forcing her mother to raise her chin. Her snakes slithered around her head, seeming to respond to the word that the Gorgon woman had learned to hate. “Prove them right,” Medusa said with a shrug. “Sometimes a monster is exactly what the world needs to right the wrongs that have been committed for centuries. You have let your fear of what you could be hold you back for far too long. You didn’t even think to try to remove the snake from your mate’s heart because you feared you would fail.”

Your fear of yourself is your greatest weakness. Be the fucking monster, Estrella. For they will judge you as one either way.”

There was no certainty in life or in death, only the unexpected.

“The temple has stood in the shadow of the Fates since the dawn of time,” Medusa said, looking to the temple at her back where it was carved into the mountain. “They have known of your existence since they drew their first breath. They have seen your destiny since the first thread was spun. They created your father from the darkness, not so that he might be born, but so that one day, you would be.”

“You will in time. It is your destiny to end the cycle that has existed since the dawn of creation. It is your destiny to remake the world as you see fit and begin anew. It is your destiny to destroy us all, so that we can be reborn from the ashes of your wrath,”

Every hero is a villain of someone else’s story. “You, my love, are the Tempest of the Fates. You were born to shift the balance of power, for you carry a piece of the Fates inside you that can never be carved out,”

No more hiding. No more secrets. These were the days where I uncovered the truth of my creation, where my destiny laid itself bare at last, and I couldn’t have been more fucking terrified.

“From chaos, she was born.”

“And in chaos, she will reign.”

“Until chaos reigns,”

“Welcome home, Tempest of Fate. We have waited eons for you.”

“Ready yourself tonight, Estrella Barlowe. For tomorrow, you die.”

“Some secrets are better left in the dark, Little Bird,”

“Why should a star be jealous of me?” I asked, the words a whisper. “Because as beautiful as they may be when they dance like that, they’ll never be my favorite,”

Age tore the innocence away. Age took your ability to be hurt and morphed it into a fever dream, a breathing, tangible thing that you could never seem to shake. Age made it so that you anticipated the pain of that betrayal with every step you took.

If there was one thing I knew about my mate, it was that her ability to survive anything life threw at her was her true magic. She would adapt and change as she needed, serving whatever purpose was necessary so that she could come back to me. She’d live through sheer determination alone, bending the will of the Fates to hers. That was who she was. That was her strength.

Death was my price. It was my salvation and my end, and I could only bring myself to regret what it would do to my mate if and when it came to pass.

“How am I to say if I am worthy when I do not know what it is I will become? I don’t think there is anyone who is worthy of the kind of power the Primordials and Gods possess. All I can do is endeavor to be fair and just, to give those around me the best life possible and not allow my magic to corrupt me in the same way it has so many others. Does that make me worthy, or does that make me blinded by my own idealism that I might be different than those who came before me?”

“I do not want either of those things. I want to live my life in peace and not be consumed by the knowledge that my decisions carry the weight of the world. I don’t want to live for an eternity knowing that I could make a difference, and wondering if it will be for the betterment of man or the downfall of everything I love. I want to be no one and nothing in the grand scheme of this world, and when I die, I want my memory to fade into obscurity. So if that isn’t the answer you wanted, if it does not serve your purpose or make me worthy, then just kill me now. I tire of these fucking games that are never-ending. I am worthy or I’m not. Make your choice already, because I have made mine.”