Page 33 of Worse Fates (Soulmates Suck #1)

Both somehow too hot and too cold, I toss and turn in a bed far too big for one person.

The clock reads 2:03am, a whole one minute has gone by since I last checked. Huffing, I fling the cover off my body, kicking it down to only cover my feet. In my whole life I’ve probably shared a bed twice, so I’m used to sleeping alone, in fact I prefer it and can hog all the covers I want.

But in only four nights that’s changed. Lucero’s absence is like a missing tooth my tongue can’t help but probe, and while I lay here unable to sleep, my mind conjures up images of him cut open and Jace draining his blood.

But what if it’s like a horror movie? They’ve managed to save Apollo, but then my dumbass calls Lucero’s phone and they get caught.

I chew on my lip, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets.

What if he’s tied up, a train barreling toward him? Then I call. Lucero stretches with all his might, just managing to tap ‘answer’ with the tip of his pinky finger—and I save him just in time?

My focus drops back to the clock, and I groan aloud.

Fucking hell, how is it only 2:04am?

“He should be here,”

I complain to the ceiling. “With me.”

Then guilt digs a finger into my side to remind me Lucero is out there to find my friend and I shouldn’t only be thinking about myself. Apollo is a vampire in the hands of blood mages, he must be terrified. It’s crazy to think my boss was a vampire the whole time I knew him, but I’m starting to understand that I don’t really know much about the world as I first thought.

Click.

My heart stops, and I bolt upright, frozen, hopeful.

As the door opens, I’m kicking off the sheets and leaping out the bed and rushing forward before I’ve even processed who’s there, flinging my arms around broad shoulders.

Only when his comforting scent fills me does my heart restart.

“Lucero,”

I breathe.

My vampire’s cold and wet, but as his strong embrace drags me closer, I can’t bring myself to care

“You should be asleep, beautiful.”

His face presses into my curls, taking in deep, greedy lungfuls. His big hands clutch at me, like he’s testing that I’m really there.

Then, suddenly, I’m picked up and my legs wrap around him.

“I can’t sleep without you.”

The cold soaks through my clothes, however in his embrace I’m warmer than I’ve ever been. I card my fingers through his lush deep brown locks, silky and strong and all mine to touch.

I never want to let go.

Lucero carries me back to the bed, laying me down.

“I want you rested and happy.”

His eyes, deeper than the Atlantic, wash over me, and I hear the unsaid word.

“But?”

“But…”

Lucero’s teeth run across my jaw.

“I love how much you need me.”

My fingers, still rooted in his hair, bring his face to mine and our lips meet in a rush of need and biting desire. His heavy weight anchors me to the mattress, his mouth demanding more, as his hands slip under my t-shirt, running calloused palms up my torso.

“You’re wet,”

I moan between kisses.

One of his thumbs rubs across my nipple, and I shiver.

“I had to wash off with a hose.”

“Apollo?”

I pull back.

“You found him?”

Lucero sits up. “Not yet.”

“What happened?”

I ask, pushing myself up on my forearms.

Lucero’s gaze sweeps over where I lay and I see myself reflected. Lips swollen, hair a mess, and shirt ridden up, exposing my hard nipples and dick straining against soft pyjama shorts.

The blue in his eyes melts into something darker, lust so stark I can’t help but cant my hips up for him.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Stop tempting me.”

“Ramy said I could look in your direction and you’d be seduced.”

His rumbling laughter waves across my chest.

“He isn’t wrong.”

No wonder there are so many songs and poems about sex and love when my mind is lost to it.

“I kinda get what Robert Herrick meant now, even if he was a huge perv.”

Lucero raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know, ‘And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying.’”

The corner of his lip quirks up.

“I’m afraid poetry was never my thing, beautiful.”

“He was an answer to a pub quiz, and I looked him up after.”

Sitting up, I straighten my clothes.

“Tell me what happened.”

Lucero stands from the bed and angles his body away from the moonlight, and tells me about the two blood mages, and Mickey killing them and…

“Summer told me you’d be disgusted if I allowed him to suffer.”

Lucero’s brow furrows.

“I’m old, Golden, but even when I was human I only cared about Cristóbal. Everyone else I felt indifferent towards.”

When he stares out the window, I wonder if he’s remembering his brother. Or the deaths of the mages. Maybe neither. It doesn’t matter, he’s far away from me and I need him back.

Slipping from the sheets, I go to him. Maybe he needs to hide in the dark to tell me these things, but I refuse to let him stand alone.

“You think I don’t see you?”

I take his hand and rest it to my chest.

“I know you, Lucero. Do you think I haven’t picked up that you don’t care about other people? That I don’t know you can be cruel?”

When I’m the centre of Lucero’s world his gaze turns soft, indulgent, but suffocating. Yet how fucked up that I’d live on the edge of a single breath for him.

“You thought I’d stop loving you because you aren’t a beacon of good?”

I tilt my chin up.

“Well, fuck that, my light. This world is harsh and sad and it hurts. You’ve been patient and regretful with Ramy. Hard, but supportive of Rurik. Disappointed but hopeful with Vidar. I see you, Lucero. All of you. And I only want you.”

Unmoving, chest not even rising, Lucero watches me.

“I would’ve let a blood mage die in agony today. A kid, really.”

“You didn’t.”

“I would’ve.”

I pause.

“I don’t care…”

I whisper, moving my body further away from the slip of moonlight and into his dark embrace.

“Oh, Golden.”

His forehead lays on mine, voice slinked low and somber.

“What have I created?”

In the shadows I hold him, and he holds me back.

Loved, and loving in return.

I don’t need the moon or sun, or any kind of artificial glow when it comes to Lucero—he is my light.

I never wanted a knight in shining armor.

And yeah, Lucero will always save my day, but more than that, I needed to feel safe and what better way than with a pair of fangs.

I yawn and Lucero chuckles, leading me back to bed.

“Sleep, my love. I’m going to have a bath, and I’ll be back soon enough.”

With one final long kiss, Lucero vanishes into the bathroom.

I stand by the bed, chewing on my lip and listening to water pouring and splashing in the other room.

Slowly, I find my own reflection in the full length mirror, the moonlight making me appear silver.

I care about how I look, who doesn’t. But I’ve never cared what another person thinks of me.

I want Lucero to want me as badly as I want him. Logically, I know he does. But, as I strip off, the small insecure part of myself can only see how skinny I am. How I wish I was a bit broader, a bit taller, jaw a bit stronger.

Freeing my bottom lip, I straighten my spine and force confidence up. Lucero has never seen me naked, but he wants to. Badly. And…I want him. I want Lucero to press so deeply into my skin he leaves scars where his body was, so no matter how far apart we are, I’ll always have pieces of him etched into me.

My hand digs into my discarded shorts, grabbing a wrinkled piece of paper and heading towards the bathroom.

I suck in a deep breath, and hover, should I knock? Should I not?

‘Confidence, Golden.’

I grit my teeth, exhale sharply, and step inside