Juliette paused, brushing the windblown hair from her face, her bike wobbling a little as she did so. “It’s rare, by the world’s standards,” she said, “but it’s not exclusive. If more people loved in such a way, maybe we wouldn’t be at war.” She paused before continuing, “It’s a bond offered to those willing to love with their whole soul—with devotion, loyalty, and the kind of sacrifice that asks everything of you but gives even more in return.”
Her gaze turned distant, like she was chasing a memory that wasn’t hers. “It’s like being chosen—not by chance, but by something older than time. A thread that’s been waiting quietly for two people to find each other. It won’t make life easier, but it gives it meaning. It shapes who you are ... and who you’re still becoming. It’s a bond that defies logic ... and time.”
“I still don’t understand. What makes Fated Aetherians different?”
“When two Aetheric souls achieve perfect resonance—a harmony of spirit, mind, and emotion—their Aetheric fields entwine. The universe remembers such bonds, for love of that magnitude cannot dissolve; it imprints upon the Aether itself.They don’t have to be perfect as people, but they are perfectly committed to each other. This allows them more power.”
He noticed Isla glance back at him. She looked uncomfortable. Her question about beingFatedhad clearly come from an earlier conversation. Oh, how he wished he could ease her mind.
It had pained him these last two years, trying to keep his distance—using verbal sparring as a way to be close to her but to not scare her away. She hadn’t been open for a relationship with him. On top of that, when he did pursue her, he wanted to be fully transparent, no secrets between them. So he had waited patiently for her to receive her mark.
Last night, when he’d seen her Aetheric gifts awaken, part of him wanted to tell her everything immediately; he almost had in the library—the truth that lived just beneath the surface of who they were. But he’d seen in her eyes that it had not been the right time.
Yes, she’d seen his frost. She’d seen the snow gather at his fingertips, the icicles thread through the broken air. She knew now that he was an Aqua Summoner—frost, water, mist, snow, ice—all logical. Understandable. But what she didn’t know was what else water could hold.
She didn’t know that Aqua Summoners could draw memory from moisture—hear echoes of the past in the lingering air, the mist in an old room, the fog hanging over an empty field. Water remembers. It reflects. In London, it was said the water had passed through seven people before it reached your cup. People found it repulsive; Andrew found it powerful. Because that water carried fragments of the past—his past—and if someoneelse was there during such a memory ... well, it was not justhispast that came to light.
She didn’t know that he’d seen them as a couple before. That they’d lived, and loved, long ago. That their bond had transcended not just logic, but time. That was what beingFatedtruly meant.
He’d always had a sense that there was someone missing from his life, but the flashbacks had crashed into him the moment he had sat in on her interview with Harold. The first time he saw Isla, he’d known—not only with his soul, but with his memories.
His muscles moved automatically, the bicycle weaving easily behind the two women as they rode toward campus, his thoughts spiraling elsewhere—back to the 1300s.
He’d been a peasant farmer then, working a sloping patch of land outside a thatch-roofed cottage. He had been determined, even then, to change things—experimenting with rudimentary irrigation, digging narrow channels with a wooden mattock he’d fashioned from ash and iron. Isla had been there too, her laughter ringing out across the fields like sunlight. She had helped him shape the earth with her Aetheric gifts, coaxing plants into bloom where the soil had become barren.
She stood focused on the field, brushing a lock of hair from her brow with that same focused expression she wore now when she was trying to solve a complex problem. So beautiful. Soalive. He had loved her deeply, still did. He had hated that women at that time weren’t valued for their minds; Isla deserved to be recognized for the genius she was.
He remembered the moment clearly when the mattock slipped in his hands, slicing deep across his thigh. The pain had been immediate, hot and bright. He’d fallen back, clutching hisbleeding leg, when she had rushed to him. Her hands had glowed gently, warm and steady, as she pressed her palms to the wound. Her touch was light, but her eyes were fierce with worry—and love.
He could still feel the heat of her hands. The way her magic had sewn him whole again, not just in flesh, but in feeling.
When old age and death had been close to taking him from that life, he had worried he wouldn’t find her in the next. Worried she could be in danger, away from him. Just like every time he had to leave her, he worried. And in each lifetime, when he found her he felt like his soul could breathe again. She made him whole. He held memories of their past due to his abilities. Sadly, she had none.
He blinked, returning to the present just as they entered the university courtyard. Tall sandstone buildings stood with the quiet pride of centuries. Ornate Gothic windows lined the ancient halls. Pigeons fluttered overhead, and the echo of bicycle tires over cobblestone reminded him where—andwhen—he was.
This was England in the 1940s, and she didn’t remember him. He only hoped, as he did each time they met, that he could show her how much he loved her.
After locking up their bikes, Juliette pulled Isla into a quick hug, then began walking backward toward the entrance closest to the library with a grin.
“See you at lunch, Glacial Man and Professor Plantastic! ... No, you don’t like it? I’ll work on it.”
She spun around and strode off at her usual brisk pace.
“Hey! I’m a professor too,” Andrew called after her.
Juliette glanced over her shoulder and shot him a wink. “Yeah—but Isla’s the better one.”
She disappeared through the doors as he chuckled, shaking his head.
“So ... I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” Isla said, a little too stiffly.
He looked at her, her brown hair catching the morning light, golden flecks glinting in her amber eyes like sunlight on river stone after a summer storm. She was breathtaking.
Andrew gave a half smile. “Isla, the only thing I had planned for today was marking papers and reading up on a few things. I don’t have any lectures. So I intend to be your shadow—though unlike a typical one, I won’t be governed by the angle of the sun or the shape of anopaqueobject blocking light rays.”
Her brow lifted, amused. “Ah, so you’re planning to override the fundamental laws of physics now?”
He leaned in slightly. “I prefer to think of it as ... selective application.”
