Page 16 of Worse Fates (Soulmates Suck #1)

Once I’m out of bed and dressed in Ramy’s black jeans (which I need to roll the legs up) and white t-shirt (that’s too big in the shoulders. Maybe I do hate Ramy?), I finally take a look at my surroundings.

The bed is so big I could’ve invited Apollo, Summer and Luuk to join us, and still have room to roll around. A headboard decorates it, thick and carved with a swirling pattern that I bet has a fancy name.

I wiggle my toes on the buttery soft carpet as I cross the room toward two cream sofas framing a massive flat-screen TV, while pretending I can’t hear Kai cursing and struggling into Ramy’s jeans.

On the opposite end of the room, are floor-to-ceiling arched windows with black heavy curtains cinched to the sides. The whole space is decorated in dark colours but the throw blanket and pillows make it cosy.

The only splashes of colour are from three paintings hanging opposite the bed. I frown at them, feeling a twinge of recognition. They’re watercolors of people dancing, deep in conversation, or playing cards. Snapshots into lives before cameras.

“Are these famous paintings or something?”

I ask, stepping closer to get a better look.

Kai breathes heavily as he approaches. Jeans tight, but on.

“I dunno. Why ask me?”

“Because you're an artist?”

Shoving a black t-shirt over his head, Kai inspects the art.

“I’m more of an Archibald John Motley Jr or Simon Fujiwara man.”

“Huh?”

“I’m hungry, mate,”

he complains, shoving arms through his leather jacket, then positions his hair to hide his scars.

“It’s the afternoon and I’ve been waiting for your lazy ass to get up. Ramy’s chill, but who knows how many vampires are lurking around every corner.”

“So I’m your bodyguard?”

I grin heading for the door.

“I’m pretty certain Lucero isn’t going to let you get hurt. Me on the other hand?”

I’m first into the hallway as the official bodyguard, and lead Kai down the way we came last night until we’re back in the empty kitchen.

We make our way to the fridge, and stand in front of the murmuring two-doored silvered beast.

“Do you think it’s full of blood?”

I ask, feet shifting.

Kai pops his chin on my shoulder.

“Only one way to find out…”

We pause.

Slowly I reach for the door handle, fingers curling around the smooth metal; which is warmer than I expected and on a sharp inhale, I rip the door open.

“Disappointing,” Kai says.

“Personally, I’m happy to see all the normal food groups.”

Milk, cheese, bread, meat and vegetables fully stock the shelves, the smell fresh and crisp.

“Or maybe…”

Kai lowers his voice next to my ear.

“We’re dinner.”

He snaps his teeth. I laugh and push him away.

“We have no plans to eat you.”

An embarrassingly high squeal jumps out of me as I spin, knocking into Kai—whose own cry of surprise is equally high. Our flailing limbs send a basket of apples tumbling to the floor, and scatter like loose marbles towards Ramy.

“Holy shit, dude,”

I wheeze.

“I’m putting a bloody bell on you.”

“Is my heart still beating?”

Kai pats down his chest.

Ramy’s laugh is light and air.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry. I suppose I’m too used to living with vampires.”

“I’ll forgive you this time,”

I tease, and begin collecting the shiny red apples.

“Erm about last night. Thanks for…Well. Thanks for everything. I did feel a lot better once I was in bed. I guess I was pretty tired.”

Ramy looks as if he’s uncomfortable with the praise, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he helps gather the apples. Kai takes bread, butter, and cheese from the fridge for sandwiches.

“Hungry, Ramy?”

Kai calls over his shoulder.

“If you eat, that is?”

Ramy appears taken aback by the question, but quickly recovers and says.

“That’d be nice, thank you. ”

After the apples are back in place, Ramy pours three glasses of orange juice, and Kai finishes his tower of sandwiches, then we sit at the kitchen island and eat.

Kai chats happily with Ramy as if they were old friends, and after some probing Ramy sheepishly admits he’s thought of a few tattoo designs. Kai seizes on this with infectious enthusiasm, even offering to draw up some stencils, and soon Ramy’s matching my friend's energy—though in a softer, quieter way.

I try to keep track of their conversation, but I perk up at every creak the house makes, hoping to see a dark figure with startling blue eyes in the doorframe. Soon my untouched sandwich lays abandoned, my fingers wrapped around the table’s rim while chewing on my bottom lip.

Flicking my attention to Ramy, I wrack my brain to find a way to ask about Lucero without…asking about Lucero.

“Sooo, did Lucero tell you about the blood mages? He was pretty worried.”

He actually seemed more put out than worried, but Ramy doesn’t need to know that.

Ramy turns to me and nods.

“He told us when he got home this morning,”

he replies, also seeming unbothered by blood mages.

“But we’ll get rid of those rats.”

Both Kai and Ramy wait a beat, but I duck my head and they soon return to their conversation.

“Are there other vampires here?” Kai asks.

“Rurik. But he’s looking after a club we own,”

Ramy answers smoothly.

“Does he have tattoos?”

Ramy laughs in that same airy way.

“Yes, actually.”

My hands tighten with each passing second. The words forced down my throat scratch at my tongue before I can’t hold back anymore.

“Where is he?” I blurt.

“Rurik?”

Ramy replies innocently, though there’s a sly little quality to his question.

“Lucero,”

I whisper. Nails digging into the wood, hoping I don’t sound desperate.

“Would you like me to take you to him?”

Do I want to be Lucero’s soulmate? Am I risking too much? Does he see me?

Am I strong enough to catch him?

None of it matters, really. Of course I breathe, “Yes.”

And it carries enough weight to fill the kitchen.

Ramy stands, leaving a concerned Kai as we make our way out. But soon I realise I don’t need him to take me anywhere and I’m walking in front of Ramy until I find myself in a garden.

I don’t notice the cold, hardly smell the clear air or hear the birds singing.

My every sense hones in on him bathed in gold light. He sits on an old wooden bench in the garden, surrounded by white and yellow winter flowers decorating a criss-crossing path heading towards bare trees.

“Lucero.”

He stands, and from the way his blue gaze lands on me, I figure he knew where I was the whole time.

“Golden.”

I heard his voice only a few hours ago, but that velvet rumble dislodges a knot formed the moment he walked away.

Palms sweating, eyes not big enough to take in the whole of him, I edge forward. I’m not close enough, will I ever be?

Once I’m standing at one end of the bench, him at the other, he speaks.

“What I said to you last night was completely unacceptable. I will live with the shame of hurting you for the rest of my life. I’ve been arrogant, not even imagining a world where you wouldn’t want to be with me. Not once did I allow you room to breathe, or give you space to understand the magnitude of what I asked. I demanded your love, then acted like a child when you said no—which will forever be your right.”

I don’t register moving closer to as he speaks, but the moment I lay my hands on his hard chest warmth engulfs me, and I watch as Lucero lowers himself to his knees. Eyes locked on mine.

“Please, Golden, forgive me.”

My cheeks are wet, the only noise I hear is our breathing. Mine fast, his slower. Steadier.

“You were a pushy asshole,” I hiccup.

Lucero nods solemnly.

“That I was.”

“But…”

Kai was right, love—that big fuck off word—is scary. But what’s life without taking a bit of risk? Breaking into a mansion and stealing a fancyass brooch. Falling in love at first sight, because why the hell not? I take a deep breath, and jump.

“But you’ve got me now… so, I’ll tell you when you need to cool it.”

Lucero’s eyes widen. “Truly?”

Blushing, I tease.

“So fuckin’ proper.”

His big hands cup my tear stained cheeks. How embarrassing that I’m always crying around him.

“I would like to kiss you very much, Golden.”

The pink in my cheeks bleed into red as I nod, then lean closer. He smells warm; a fireplace when snow is falling, bundled under blankets.

Home.

‘Lucero smells like home,’ I think, as I place my hands on his sturdy shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as I brush my parted lips to his. It’s brief—barely five seconds—but the connection between us flares and pulls wide, enveloping us in a world of our own. And any lingering hesitation thaws as his soft lips glide against mine.

I draw my flushed face back, heart pounding in my ears, to find Lucero’s bright gaze fixed on me, as if I’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted. Funny, since I kind of think maybe…just maybe, he could be the same for me.

Or maybe that’s just a bit of new love talking.