The Fated Mate

words: Not in this life. What did that mean? Had they met before? His look earlier had been strangely familiar-a recognition not quite grasped. She got up and went into her studio

h a forced smile. "Just. working." Katie raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Uh-huh. It doesn't look like you've been working." She stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation, her gaze immediately drawn to the canvas. "What's this? Your new piece?" Lena felt a bit sick. Nobody was supposed to see this painting; it was far too personal, too off-putting. "Yeah," she said after a moment, straining. "It's a work in progress." Katie leaned closer to it, peering down. "It's creepy. It's so. dreamlike. Lena's throat puffed up. She leaned over to block Katie's view, but Katie wasn't looking at her; she stared at that painting with an intensity that made Lena's skin crawl. "What is this, Lena?" Katie asked, low. "There's something... about it. Something I couldn't place." The pounding in her chest couldn't keep her from pushing the words out. "It's nothing, just a random thought," she lied, as those words sounded so awfully shallow. Katie looked like she didn't believe her. "You sure?" Katie's gaze rose to Lena's, and for a second-a fleeting instant-Lena would have sworn she saw something in her eyes-something deeper, a sign of understanding or recognition. "Are you sure you're okay? you aren't here. Somewhere else. Lost. Lena's chest had constricted, and before she could utter a word, that dragging sound had come from the hallway outside. Lena went numb as her heart picked up a rapid pace while quick breaths escaped her parted lips. Katie straightened at her side. "You hear that? Lena nodded, She nodded toward the door, though her feet felt weighted into the floor. Again there was a scrape. It sounded closer. Something wasn't right. "We should go," Katie said. The shake in her voice was more pronounced now. "It's not funny anymore." But Lena was paralyzed, unable to tear her eyes away from the painting. Adrian's face-what seemed to be his eyes-stopped, staring at her in expectation. It was as if the shadows in the room now came alive-reaching out for her in unnatural, premeditated motions of dark, moving tendrils. It scratched again, closer that time, and then a swirl of cold. And in Lena's mind, an image of the temple came, of Adrian with his gl