Sought By Destiny by Monica Ageno

Storm stood at the edge of Skyreach, his eyes scanning the charred landscape. The ground, once lush and green, was now a scorched black sea. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt wood. The ruins before him stood as silent witnesses to the battle’s wrath, skeletal remains stark against the early morning sky.

Every crack in the earth, every smouldering ember, was a testament to the destructive power he had wielded. For weeks he had been consumed by a rage so intense it charred him from the inside out, a bitterness that pulsed in his veins like a poison. Never had he felt this hollow in his life. An emptiness so profound it had taken control of his mind.

The betrayal of his mate that had ripped his heart in a million pieces. Ever since he had met Feylin, he had kept her at arm’s length simply to prevent this kind of attachment to her. It would seem that she did not need the mate bond consummated to have control of his heart.

Feylin…

Just the thought of her name had his anger steaming as he recalled the moment he had realized that by some fate-cursed magic, she had discovered a way to break their bond. That was bad enough, but then the same cursed magic had bonded her to Olron, for a reason only she understood.

Storm steeled his heart at the thought of her. It was not merely her betrayal that fuelled the flames within him; it was her choice, even if it was a choice that consumed his mind in scorching fury. She had chosen Olron. His once best friend. Someone who had once been so close they had been like brothers.

“Storm.” Alaric approached cautiously, sensing his state of mind. His friend had been handling him with gloves lately. Storm knew he had been volatile, and Alaric had given him more leeway than he would have any other mage.

“Why are you still out here? It has been a hard-fought victory. You have earned a rest.”

“Victory?” Storm chuckled bitterly. They had won Skyreach back from Olron after weeks of Storm ploughing through enemy troops with his magic unleashed at its fullest potential.

He had been single-minded. Kill, destroy, get to Olron…but the bastard had not been at the battlefield. He had not shown up for weeks. He had left the trolls, dark Fae and the undead to fight his battle. Was he too occupied with his new mate to remember that they were at war? Storm punched a tree in frustration as he began to pace, the red haze starting to rise in his mind. He knew what it was. The mate madness.

This was one of the reasons he had not wanted to consummate his bond with Feylin. He had never wanted to ever be controlled by the whims of the Fates.

His father had suffered the mate madness after his mother had died. Very few resisted it. Even fewer survived it. Olron was the one person in recorded history to have survived it without a tether, but even then, he was barely sane. Those that survived with their minds intact had important tethers, like children or other loved ones. Clearly his feelings for Irina had not been as strong as he had thought if he was being driven to the brink of insanity.

Irina had been his long-time companion, since childhood. He had thought he was in love with her, one of the reasons why he had rejected his mate bond with Feylin. Now he had no choice of what to feel—jealousy was a living flame in his chest.

Last night he had felt her, Feylin, and for the first time in a long while, his soul had calmed.

Storm had been in the middle of battle, and it had woken him up like a jolt of pure lightening straight to his veins. He had no idea how she had so easily broken their bond and in the same manner, restored it.

The madness was slowly receding with every beat of his heart as he felt her warm, fresh presence down the bond. She was pure and clear like dew in the morning. He had missed her anchoring him.

He had never wanted this weakness. Never wanted to be shackled by bonds beyond his control. Yet, here he was. Storm lifted his face to the smoke-stained sky and roared, the sound carrying the potency of his fury.

He had tried to prevent this. Had refused to make her his weakness, but none of it mattered. He now understood what the bond was. The mate bond was not just some magic that linked them together. Rather, she was the other half to his soul, blackened though it was.

“Storm, old friend,” Alaric said calmly. “Steady your heart. We will find her.”

“I will know no rest while my mate lies beside another man,” Storm snapped. He couldn’t dwell too much on that imagery. He had already put Alaric through enough as it was.

It had been this way ever since he had first discovered that Feylin was missing.