Page 48 of Seared Fates

But I’m stupid.

And maybe a bit infatuated. Which makes me stupider for wanting a straight man, soulmate or not.

“My scars.” I play with the peeling edge of the tape, my other hand squeezing the steering wheel. “I still remember the pain—the burning. I still get fucking nightmares. I love my art form, but I can’t do pain. Not again.”

Vidar’s large hand lies on my thigh and squeezes.

I shouldn’t soak in the comfort he offers like it’s always on tap for me. Shouldn’t take it so greedily, shouldn’t let him rub gentle circles. The list of things I shouldn’t do with Vidar is endless. Yet I still breathe in the chilled air to fill my lungs with him; masculine and frozen—like falling into a glacial lake and… fuck.

The impact of falling this high should crush my bones, but with Vidar, all I feel is freedom.

“How did it happen?” he questions softly.

I fucking hate the little hope that flares to life between the empty spaces of my ribs; that Vidar will someday love me back when that just isn’t possible. He’s told me enough times.

“I’ve always loved drawing, and my birth parents encouraged it. I don’t remember much about them, but that’s something that never leaves. One day, I was sitting with them, drawing and then a small purple flame appeared on the paper. In my memory, I’m not scared, because they aren’t. In fact, their smiles couldn’t be wider, but they made me promise never to do it alone.”

My teeth clench.

“I should’ve listened,” I whisper. This would be the point I’d be drawn back into a memory of fire, but Vidar’s steady hand keeps me in the present.

Swallowing, I continue.

“Every story when you're a little kid starts with ‘I should’ve been in bed’ and this one ain’t any different. Instead of being tucked away, I was lying on the floor and drawing, wanting to see my purple flames again. It’d taken ages to learn whatever magic I needed, I remember that. Calling on the fire was like a puzzle, and once I solved it I could call it easier. But… it got out of control so quickly, Vidar.” My voice is weak, shaking.

“Kai, you don’t need to finish.”

I’m not sure if I want to tell him the rest of the shameful truth or never speak another word again.

But…I know Vidar would never judge me, even if a part of me wants to be judged.

I open my mouth to speak, and moments before I let a word slip out, a car horn blares behind us so loud I jump.

“That fucking bastard,” Vidar growls, grabbing hold of the door handle.

Before he can get out, I’m driving on. “Don’t get the bloody police called on us.”

Vidar’s gaze is so heavy I can feel it without even looking. “Are you okay?”

The memories are painful, but when I say, “It’s fine, Vidar,” I really mean it. “You don’t need to murder anyone just because they honked at me.”

“More like disembowel,” he bites out.

I laugh, shaking my head at the big vampire.

“Losing family is hard.”

I glance at him before turning my attention back to the road. “You’ve lost people?”

Vidar’s arm rests on the open window, his fingers drum out a steady rhythm against the door. “My parents, as everyone does. Friends. My wife.”

I nearly choke on a gasp. “You weremarried?”

“I died when I was 38, of course I was married,” he replies, like I’m ridiculous.

“What was she like?” Jealousy bubbles in my stomach like indigestion.

Vidar’s hand squeezes my leg. “A very sensible woman, something I always liked about her. She gave me four healthy boys—”