Chapter 792: Weaves the fate of every soul
Jeniva clicked a photograph of a bird chirping in a tree within the capital’s famous botanical garden. She checked the display and smiled; the shot was perfect. As she adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and lifted the camera again, Dominick’s face suddenly filled the viewfinder.
"Dominick!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping the device in shock. She lowered the camera and scanned the quiet surroundings. "What are you doing here? How did you even find me?"
"The garden is nearly empty today. I stopped by your house first and met your sister, Elina. She mentioned you had headed here for some air," Dominick replied. He reached out, grasping the silk ribbons of her hat and gently pulling her toward him. "You look cute in this."
"I’m nothing of the sort," she murmured, her face heating up as she reached up to still his hands.
"Yes, you are," Dominick insisted.
"You shouldn’t have come," she whispered, though she didn’t pull away.
"Why?" Dominick mused, his gaze never wavering.
"I just... I feel like people shouldn’t see us together yet," Jeniva replied. She suddenly caught the sharp scent of his pheromones. She looked up at him, wondering if he was intentionally asserting his dominance to ground her, or if his frustration was simply leaking out.
"Are you scared that you won’t be able to live the way you want if news of our dating is leaked to the public?" Dominick asked, his voice dropping.
"Sort of," Jeniva admitted. His hands finally slipped off the silk ribbons of her hat, but he didn’t move away. "People have a way of destroying lives with gossip. Elina showed me an article recently, one about Juniper. She’s been attacked recently, and people are actually writing that it’s her ’karma.’ Can you imagine the brutality of those words?"
Dominick’s expression hardened at the mention of his former wife.
"So, you think if you get involved with me, then you may have to undergo such harsh comments," he murmured. "I have made sure that articles get removed regarding that attack for June’s peace. Do you think people will bring hate on you as well for coming into my life?"
Jeniva didn’t answer right away. And her silence was enough to give him a clear answer.
"Fine. I will give you a space," Dominick said and took a step back. Before she could stop him, he simply disappeared from her sight.
"I didn’t mean that," she murmured, holding the camera tightly.
~~~~~
Dominick’s feet led him to a place that felt hauntingly familiar, though he hadn’t set foot there in years.
The Moon Temple.
"Why did I come here?" he murmured to himself. He turned to leave, but the sight of the head priest stopped him in his tracks.
The old man stood watching him, his long beard as white as the temple marble. Dominick paused and offered a respectful greeting.
"The moon has a way of drawing back those who are lost, Prince Dominick," the priest said.
Dominick stiffened. "I’m not lost." He turned defensive and was ready to leave when the priest’s voice drifted through the quiet air.
"If the Prince seeks clarity, he is welcome before the Moon Goddess. She is the one who weaves the fate of every soul."
Dominick’s face contorted at the mention of ’fate.’ He turned back to the priest, his eyes flashing with a bitterness he had suppressed for months.
"I never wanted a fate that forced me to question love, trust, and honesty for a while," Dominick countered, his voice rising. "And I certainly never asked for the mate she suddenly thrust into my life. That isn’t weaving fates, that’s playing games with people’s lives."
The silence that followed was heavy. Realizing his voice had echoed too loudly in the sacred space, and acknowledging he was speaking to a man whose spiritual authority could bring even a Prince to his knees, Dominick lowered his head.
"I apologize," he muttered, his posture stiffening. "My frustration is not with you, Father."
The priest didn’t flinch. He merely smoothed his white beard, his gaze calm. "The Goddess does not play games, Prince. She provides the thread; how you knot or smooth it is your own doing. You blame the weave because you do not like the pattern you helped create."
Dominick remained silent for a long moment.
"The more I try to move on, the more people remind me that I’m incapable of it," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "Seeing my siblings happy with their mates makes me wonder if I’ll ever reach that phase again. I made mistakes with my former mate. I—I don’t wish to repeat them. But the scandal I created will haunt the woman I’ve found now. What am I supposed to do? I already tried to reject the bond, and it didn’t work."
The head priest watched him with a calm expression.
"Give it time," the priest said. "If this mate has been granted to you, then you must do what you failed to do in your last relationship. But remember one thing: bonds that are meant to last will offer you a sense of comfort, even in the midst of your confusion."
Dominick furrowed his brows. He understood the implication—that true connection shouldn’t feel like a constant battle or a source of endless anxiety. He offered a short, respectful nod.
"I apologize again," he whispered. Without another word, he turned and disappeared from the priest’s sight.
"That boy is the most confused among all the Sinclairs," the head priest muttered and went inside the temple, wearing a smile on his face.
Meanwhile, Dominick had come to a large lake front, a lonely space, where he couldn’t see a single soul. Holding several pebbles in his hand, he began throwing them into the lake front. The only sound that surrounded him was the ripples in the water.
As he threw the last pebble, he decided to go back to Jeniva. As he teleported there, he found a hunter’s presence in that garden.
"Jeniva," he murmured and moved with a lightening speed.