Chapter Two - Sen
My car skids and weaves. My tendons, muscles, and everything that I am to the very bone are screaming at me to return to the mansion.
To him.
Holy shit. A soulmate.
Holy fucking shit.
For nine hundred years, my heartbeat has been a slow, steady thing. Now it beats with the power of a thousand-foot-drop waterfall, and under my tightening grip, the leather and metal steering wheel begins to crack as I hold onto my restraint between gritted teeth.
A soulmate.
A word that belongs to other people and is rare in its extremes, even if my own brother Lucero and Maker Vidar have found theirs. Not to mention Rurik and the tragic fate of his mate. So why me?
And for fuck’s sake, why now!
“Dammit!” I curse, my foot stomping down on the brake. My car screeches to a halt, filling the air with the acrid stink of burnt rubber.
Shoving the door open, I’m out and burning new tracks into the road as I pace up and down, panting like a bull. Have I ever wanted a soulmate?
Never.
Independence has always been my way, even with a vampire’s quirk to remain close to their family. But now that I know he’s only five miles away, my body is driven into a state of urgent action. I am many things—flirt, show-off, smug, mocking—but impatient?
I’m happy to wait; I can luxuriate in long stretches and savour each delicious second.
The moment I laid eyes on that man, his obsidian eyes almost taking up the whole of his diamond-shaped face, as his scent filled my lungs with warm sand and sweet tea—and something else uniquely his—everything changed. Within a fraction of a second, he’d become mine in every conceivable way.
“Soulmate,” I scoff. Disbelief, and yet… wonder.
I stop my erratic pacing to gaze down at my open palms, all nicked and scarred from a long life of fighting and adventure, and like my once-steady heart, my hands tremble.
‘Sen.’
My head rolls back between my shoulders, and I gaze at the night sky, drawing in air tasting of earthy pine into my overworked lungs. The way he said my name…
My canines elongate, and I drag my tongue across my bottom lip, ravenous to hear his voice again and again. Raspy. Curious. Hopeful. Fuck, so damn good.
Groaning, I drop down into a crouch and scrub my rough hands over my face.
I deny myself nothing; wine, sex, good company, and bad ideas. But that boy… that boy with pretty eyes and a sinful mouth and a voice that calls to me, I can’t have.
I can admit to being a greedy, fickle thing.
I take what I want, when I want, and if anyone tries to stop me, I’ll laugh as my fangs rip open their throats.
And seducing beautiful men? Well, not often a challenge, but perhaps my greatest calling.
One I succeed at—voraciously. So why, when I meet the most alluring, exciting, and tempting creature to have walked this earth, do I have to deny myself?
‘It’s too dangerous! Not now, not my little brother.’
Annoyed, I suck my teeth at the memory of Kai’s hurried words and haul myself up, yelling my frustration into the empty road.
Kai’s right—and for once in my very, very long life, I have to hold myself back.
I curse the fucking blood mages who’ve come to town and caused havoc.
Summer, too, who betrayed my family and nearly caused Kai’s death, and will stop at nothing to get her revenge for a demon king who killed her family.
Why now do those nasty little vermin need to crawl from their holes and cause trouble that could hurt—
Frowning, I search my memories and come up empty.
“Of course I didn’t catch my soulmate’s name.” I shake my head, laughing at myself. “How fitting in this already massive clusterfuck.”
But there are greater concerns than a pretty boy’s name, even if that pretty boy belongs to me.
A smirk stretches across my lips as a plan begins to form.
How hard can killing a couple of mages really be?
I can stay away from that beautiful, curious face for a few days. Hunt down Summer and rip the pesky blood mages to pieces, then once that’s all taken care of and my soulmate is safe, it doesn’t matter what Kai or Vidar or anyone says—I will take what’s mine.
I stroll to my car, slipping back inside with a much improved mood. The promise of murder does have that effect on me, and as I drive away, hitting play on my radio, I pretend it’s the tortured screams of blood mages instead of ABBA.