The circles he rubs into the back of my hand stir something low and deep in my belly. Not just butterflies, but a tremor. A quake. Like my body remembers something I don't.
Will watches me with such a raw intensity I feel like I'm unraveling right in front of him.
"We requested the Desmós Ceremony," he begins softly. "The sacred binding of souls. It's an ancient rite. One even the gods hesitate to invoke. But we… we wanted eternity. And my grandfather—Zeus himself—was so overjoyed for us, he volunteered to perform the bonding himself."
I blink. Zeus. Right. No big deal.
"But my father…" Will's voice drops, rough and venom-laced, the name like ash on his tongue. "Ares was livid. He didn't just disapprove—he forbade it outright. He said no son of his would shackle himself for eternity, least of all to a woman fated to wield the scissors of destiny. A Fate, he spat. 'She'll sever your thread one day, boy, and not even flinch.' Those were his words." Will looks away, jaw tight, as if reliving the betrayal. "He saw love as weakness. And you? You were a threat to everything he'd built—because you made me choose something other than war."
His hand rises, cupping my cheek with reverence that makes my breath hitch. His thumb brushes beneath my eye as if willing a memory to surface.
"But we didn't listen to him. We bound ourselves. "I thought," he swallows, "that this was the beginning of our forever." But it lasted less than a day."
I don't dare speak. Every word he shares presses tighter against my ribs, making it harder to breathe.
"I knew something was wrong the moment I couldn't find you after the ceremony. We were supposed to share our first dance, remember?" His eyes shimmer. "Only… you were gone."
His grip on my hand tightened.
Will had this pained look in his eyes, like he was fighting unseen demons. "I searched for you with the fury of a thousand storms. I burned empires to ash, shattered kingdoms that dared stand in my path. I unleashed war where peace had barely bloomed—because without you, I was wrath incarnate. Monstrous. Unrelenting. I tore through realms, demanding answers from gods who turned their faces, and mortals who cowered beneath my shadow. I cursed Olympus itself. And still—nothing. Not a whisper of your name. Not the ghost of your scent. The world swallowed you whole, and I… I was drowning in the silence you left behind."
He's trembling. I can feel it. It vibrates through our joined hands like a current.
"And then… after fifty years—I found you."
My breath catches.
"You were chained in a cavern high in the Alps; frozen stone and silence were your only companions. Still in the gown from our union, the silk clung to you like sorrow made visible, soaked through and translucent, like the dress itself remembered what the world had forgotten. Your wrists were raw, bloodless, where the shackles bit into bone. You were so thin I could count each rib, and your skin—your skin looked like frostbitten marble, kissed by death but not claimed. I thought I'd found a ghost. But then you opened your eyes. And I knew—my Angelia was still alive. Barely. But alive."
The memory must be etched into him like stone. His expression cracks open like a fault line.
"I broke the damn cuffs with my bare hands," he says, voice cracking like thunder held too long in the chest. "I didn't even check if they were locked—I just snapped the chains like they were paper. And then… I dropped to my knees. Right there in the filth, dust, and silence. I lay my head in your lap like some broken soldier at a shrine, as if I begged hard enough, maybe the gods would undo time."
He pauses, looking at me like he's still that man, kneeling in the dark.
"And do you know what you said?"
I shake my head slowly, lips parted, my lungs barely able to draw in breath.
Will gives a watery laugh, one that cracks into a sob he swallows. "You blinked those half-dead eyes at me, and in the tiniest voice, you said—'What took you so long?' Like I was late for a date, not fifty years behind schedule after you'd been tortured."
He laughs again, but it's ragged and hollow.
"You didn't yell. You didn't curse me. You didn't demand answers. You just… forgave me. Instantly. Effortlessly. Like love had made you immortal to pain."
His eyes glisten like shattered glass. "And then—gods, you couldn't even sit up straight—but you cupped my face like I was something sacred. You kissed me—barely a brush. Just enough to tell me you were still in there… and you said, 'I love you. You found me. That's all that matters."
He chokes on the last words like they've been buried in his throat for centuries.
"I had prepared to watch you die in my arms. But instead... you forgave me before I could even ask."
His thumb returns to that soft circle on my hand, but it's shaky now, like he's trying to hold himself together.
"It was the first time I ever cried. The son of Ares—crying. Because of you. Because you reminded me what love meant."
He releases a long breath and glances down at our hands. "I carried you from that place like you were made of glass. Took you back to our cottage—the one I built for us. Where we were meant to raise children, grow old. Live free."
His voice softens into reverence. "You were so exhausted, I couldn't even think of touching you the way I wanted to. I drew a bath with jasmine, lavender, and honeysuckle. You always loved that. I helped you undress, I held you while you soaked, and when you fell asleep in my arms, I did too. The last thing I remember was the scent of vanilla from your skin."
I want to run. I should. But I can't move.
His story… It's fantastical. Ridiculous. And yet—
My heart pounds in sync with his every word.
"My father found out you were alive. That I'd rescued you. He summoned a council—Zeus, your mother, and himself. He said we could never be together because you weren't worthy of me. That you'd ruin me."
Will drops my hand, slamming his fist into the tree behind him. Bark splinters. Birds shriek from the branches above us.
"I should never have gone to that meeting without you. The Keres took you while I was gone. Ripped you away from our bed, from our home, from me. Again."
His voice breaks. He spins to face me and pulls me into him with such desperation that it steals the air from my lungs.
"I wanted to protect you, Angelia. I did everything I could. Ares even made a blood vow to me—if I ever tried to find you again, he'd destroy you completely. Body and soul."
He leans back just enough to cup my face again, his forehead pressed to mine.
"He didn't know we were bound. He didn't know that if he killed you, a part of me would die too."
I can barely breathe.
"I tried to let you go. I tried to honor his warning. But I couldn't. I spent the next century searching. Again. And again. You were always just out of reach."
He brushes his thumb across my cheek again, catching a tear I didn't know had fallen.
"I thought I'd never find you. And then a couple of days ago… there you were."
I don't know what to say. Don't know what to think. The part of me that's rational says I should scream, or run, or at the very least call someone.
But my soul is humming. Buzzing. Singing.
And something deep inside me—something older than logic—believes him.
He leans in, pressing his lips gently to my forehead.
"I failed you more times than I can count," he whispers. "But I won't fail again."
I blink up at him. "Will…"
He closes his eyes, as though hearing his name from my lips is a benediction.
"Do you feel it, Angelia?" he murmurs. "That pull between us? That echo? It's your soul. Reaching for mine."
And I do feel it.
Gods help me, I do.
The quiet thrum beneath my skin, like my body has been waiting to come back online. The ache in my chest is like a lock that's just been opened.
He brushes his knuckles along my jaw, his voice softer than mist.
"We were always meant to find each other again."