7. Jasmine
JASMINE
What does one wear to meet their fated mate? It’s not like this is a date. Shit, this isn’t a date, right?
I’m stressed, however you look at it. Everything I try on either makes me look like a sack of potatoes or a watermelon with too many rubber bands around it. It’d help if I left the house every once in a while, but I’m either in scrubs for work or in activewear.
I don’t need to look at the clock to know I’m on the verge of running late.
Hopefully, we won’t be coming back to my place tonight, because my room is a disaster.
There’s no rhyme or reason to where I’m throwing every article of clothing.
The red chair in the corner? The clean basket of laundry?
Every spot is fair game and a problem for me to deal with tomorrow.
Anytime I’m pulled out of my comfort zone, it makes me think of my sister. Marisole knows how to dress for an occasion. Granted, it’d be something leather or black, but she was the one who knew how to make an impression.
The Underworld didn’t leave me with only bad memories. It’s not like I was the only half demon. Marisole did her best to shield and protect me, even though she’s two years younger, but it was never enough.
Even when my older brother, Liam, joined the scouts, I’d still end up threatened and scarred. Even with most of the scars healed and no longer visible, it doesn’t erase the memories.
I grab the next clothing item from my closet and sulk to my bed, exhausted from the memories.
They’re enough to consider visiting a witch in town to hex them away, but I know I’d miss the good, even if the bad comes at a cost. After Liam died, I wasn’t safe.
I had other older siblings, but he was the only other one that cared about me, who didn’t care I was different.
I clench the fabric in my hand, a black linen dress, and decide this will be good enough.
It’s cute. It’s casual. Marisole would approve.
I think. Demons don’t have emotions, which is why I think she wanted to bargain half of my soul for the secrecy of my escape for a decade.
At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I knew I needed to be somewhere else, somewhere I could have a chance to live.
Why would Marisole want this life?
Even with the bond pulsing through my body, I wonder what it’d be like to be void of emotion. There would certainly be less caring about this goddamn outfit I’m wearing, that’s for sure.
I stand and pull the dress over my head, letting it fall to my knees. On my way to the bathroom to brush my hair and apply a small amount of mascara, my phone buzzes. I grab the phone from my nightstand, and my heart does a little flip when I see it’s Jake who texted.
I’m grinning like a goofball as I react with a heart to his message about meeting at Fernhollow Coffee first, then chuckle to myself when I look up and catch my gaze in the mirror of the bathroom.
At least if I don’t come up with a way out of this mess, I’ll have a good memory.
My childhood wasn’t memorable in a way where I’d want to share stories with friends.
I never had a teenage crush or went to prom.
There was never a boy throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night.
Katrina would tell you my love life is far and few between, because that’s the one thing I can disclose with her. Not my lineage or where I come from or anything that could tell her I’m not human, but one thing that’s truly mine, no matter how pathetic it might be.
I send Katrina a text before I second-guess myself, letting her know I’m going on a date with the hottest man I’ve seen. She responds with too many GIFs and pop culture references I don’t understand, but I’ll see her at work tomorrow.
My eyes catch sight of the clock on my phone. I need to stop messing with my hair and decide clipping half of it up will be good enough. Jake texts me a See you soon! message, and suddenly my chest feels like it’s been impaled with a firestick.
I’ve kept secrets for my entire life, and it wasn’t until meeting Jake that I found myself wanting to break all my rules and reveal the truth.
There’s a tug-of-war happening in my brain.
On one hand, it’s not fair to keep him in the dark.
He knows we’re fated. He knows demons are in town.
He doesn’t know I’m aware of both those things.
On the other hand, he could pick his alpha—his pack—over me. He could kill me.
That’s what he’s here to do, isn’t it? Hunt demons? Return Fernhollow and the north back to its previous demon-free state? That’s what the Council does, anyway.
It’s that question, the guilt of holding information hostage, that permeates my thoughts on the twenty-minute drive into town.
I find a close spot a block away from Fernhollow Coffee and immediately spot Jake standing outside the coffee shop.
He’s also gone casual today with a black T-shirt and dark denim.
I haven’t dated someone with facial hair before, and I can’t help but think the semi-shaved mustache and beard only look good on Jake.
Something about the dark hair against his dark skin has my body wanting him in an outrageous way.
Before I know it, he’s spotted me, waves, and walks toward me.
My chest beats heavily as I take him in.
His golden chain reflects the little sun peeking through the clouds, and if that wasn’t enough, he casually pockets both hands.
Jake is laid-back and carefree, and it seems to me he knows what he wants.
As soon as I open my car door, Jake’s mouth breaks into a wide grin. This man is excited to see me, and my entire body is flushed. My cheeks are probably cherry red.
“Hi,” I say, closing the door behind me. I lift my hand to wave at the same time he opens his arms for a hug. “Oh.”
I step toward him, letting his frame wrap around mine, unable to pull myself away from him. I think I might be a little touch starved. “Sorry, I don’t mean to hang on to you like a koala.”
Why did I say that? I’m internally slapping myself on the forehead because that was most definitely an inside thought.
“I don’t mind.” Jake gives me a once-over, and I take back what I said earlier. I’m not hot. Nope, I’m a puddle. Find me on the floor, unable to cope with how this man looks at me. “We match.”
“Hmm?”
Jake points to me. “Your dress.”
“Oh, right. Um, I don’t get out of the house much.” I palm the back of my neck, averting my gaze from him to my dress.
“Hey.” Jake grabs my chin and tilts it up until my eyes meet his. “I like it. It looks…”
He pauses, dropping his fingers from my jaw and moving them to slide down my arm. The way he’s looking at me makes me want to hide behind a bush, away from judgmental eyes. It also makes me want to tear his shirt off. Clearly, my mind is stuck in a never-ending loop of should I stay or should I go?
After Jake doesn’t finish his sentence, I swallow one large gulp of courage, then ask him to finish.
He smirks, then snaps his gaze to me. “Incredible. You look incredible.”
We’re both caught in the tide of the bond, unable to pull away.
There could be families walking past us, and neither of us would notice, or care.
Jake’s fingers continue to trail up my arm and across my collarbone, leaving a trail of gooseflesh.
There’s a jolt to my chest when he tucks the chain of my necklace around his finger and tugs, ever so slightly, leaving a dent around my neck.
His gaze stays on mine as his finger reaches the key, then it drops to take in the snake-covered object. I don’t do anything but stand here, unable to comprehend what is going on. Fate is working against us, pulling out emotions we haven’t approached or talked about yet.
I worry if I move an inch, if I breathe too loud, if even a whisper of a noise leaves my mouth, I’ll ruin this moment.
He’ll realize what’s happening, he’ll see how close he is, and he’ll back away.
He’ll regret this moment, maybe keep his distance regardless of the magnetic pull…
He’d do all of that and more to ensure I’m comfortable.
I don’t know how I know that—how I can look at Jake and know that’s the kind of man he is. Could it be the bond? Or is it how he holds himself, both when I met him yesterday and right now?
“Even our chains match.” Jake finally breaks the silence. “Well, kind of.” He looks up and smiles, his fingers slowly pulling away from the chain so it gently returns to its place.
“Yeah, yours doesn’t have a charm.”
“Is that what the key is? It’s not to unlock a door?”
My eyes widen for a fraction of a second before I’m able to mask my expression with a small smile and the shake of my head. It’s possible he knows about portal doors from the Council. Still, alarm bells ring in my head at the possibility of my secret unraveling before I’m ready.
Joking is always a good way to distract someone, right? “Only the basement. It’s where I store the bodies.”
Jake widens his eyes, and I’m on the verge of admitting it’s a harmless jest when he bursts into laughter.
“I forgot how funny you are. Damn.” Jake chuckles, then holds out his hand. “Coffee?”
I tuck my lips and nod, then grab his hand, sliding my fingers between his. “Yes. I desperately need a third cup.”
“Third?” he asks when we walk.
“Is this your first?”
“I only rolled out of bed ten minutes ago.”
“Even though you texted me, like, an hour ago?”
“I’m a snoozer.”
“Good to know.” I should say something to cover up the innuendo of us one day being in the same room where that information would come in handy, but I’m afraid if I open my mouth again, I’ll only dig myself into a deeper hole.
Thankfully, we reach Fernhollow Coffee a moment later, and I can occupy my stupid, loud mouth with a nice, hot cup of coffee. Jake drops my hand to open the door, letting me walk in first.
My mood sours as soon as we step inside. There’s a pretty barista behind the counter, smiling at Jake like they’re best friends, and she greets him by calling his name.