Page 9 of Worse Fates (Soulmates Suck #1)

“Cradle robber.”

Chuckling, I nuzzle into Golden’s soft hair, a lightness I haven’t felt in years clearing away my cobwebs.

Even under his combat jacket, and the one I gave him, his precious warmth emanates.

The few tears Golden shed have ceased, but I will never allow him to become that desperate for my touch again.

“Do you wish to hear my story, or make snide comments?”

I tease, tugging him closer.

“I can do both.”

He’s made himself smaller in my arms. Head tucked under my chin, hands laid on my chest.

Heart breaking at the thought of his life before me—each day a struggle for Golden to survive—I tighten my embrace. I have no doubt conflict fights within him, but for now he simply surrenders; air leaving him in a whoosh as his body softens.

“I was turned six hundred years ago with my brother. However, he did not live through the change. Becoming a vampire is no gentle process. You must die, then be reborn. I lived, he did not.”

“I’m sorry.”

Golden feels deeply for others, that much is obvious. But I won’t allow my burdens to become his.

“I know, sweet boy, but don’t worry, it was a long time ago. Anyway, Vidar turned me. I was a nobody then, but a handsome nobody, and took advantage of that. Rich women enjoyed my company, gave me their trust, and I stole their money. I had little education or money of my own, so it became my way to survive.”

“I guess we’ve both done things we regret.”

Golden looks up; I seem to be a puzzle he’s trying to solve. This makes me smile, and the need to take his lips is a hard one to shake. Instead, I hold his cheek.

“I’m not deserving of your compassion, Golden. All my sins I’ve earned.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but I run my thumb across his velvet soft lips. Eyelids dropping to half mask, Golden tentatively, so very sweetly, parts his sumptuous lips a hair's breadth wider, and I sneak my thumb inside.

The heat of him could cripple me, then the tip of his tongue runs along the edge of my thumb. Suddenly, my lungs have no need for air. Only him.

Our eyes lock. His breathing is the only sound I care for, the terrible music in the background forgotten. I have longed for this, for him. My soulmate. The closeness of lovers, and I have it back within my grasp. Francisco, Tristan, Samuel.

Now Golden.

Maybe this time I will be selfish.

“I’ve never had sex.”

His confession rushes out, words jumbled tightly together. It’s the bucket of cold water I needed.

His brow furrows, as if he’s also confused by his own confession.

“I’ve wanted to. But ya know…there was never a good time?”

There’s more to this, and I’ll learn his secrets soon enough. For now, I remove my thumb from his devastating heat and cup his face. Smiling to reassure him.

“We don’t need to worry about that right now.”

His relief is obvious, but I smirk when I see his disappointment, too.

“Who wants to have sex in an ugly café anyway? Not that…”

Red blooming in his cheeks, Golden waves a hand as if to encapsulate the point, and distracting away from his adorable blushing.

“Ya know, not that we are going to…for fuck sakes. Stop bloody looking at me,”

he grumbles.

I laugh, loud and full.

“And why would I ever do that?”

“To be nice?”

He offers, blush deepening.

Bowing, I press my nose into his hair, filling my lungs with cherries and sea breeze.

“Who said I was nice?”

I purr, my tone dripping with seduction.

His innocence is rivaled only by his lust, and Golden splutters.

My plans to tease further halts, as a thought hits me.

“How old are you?”

This is what gets his gaze back on me, but instead of desire I only find annoyance.

“It's completely fine to be an older virgin, ya know.”

“I am well aware. But, as you’ve learnt, I’m also very old. So, while it might be surprising, some morals have lasted the years. That is one I’m particular in keeping.”

Golden tilts back and rests his forearms on the table, eyebrow raised.

“But murder is totally fine then?”

“Who said I’ve ever taken a life?”

My lips twitch up devilishly, to which Golden rolls his eyes.

“I’m twenty-five.”

“You look…young.”

“And you don’t look six hundred, now tell me the rest of your oldass story.”

I tip my head as if I wore a hat.

“As you wish.”

Golden chucks a fry in his mouth.

“I thought you were such a gentleman, but I’m starting to rethink that.”

“Oh, my beautiful Golden, you have not been the first to realise this.”

His laugh fills my heart.

“But yes, back to my, as you so eloquently called it, oldass story.

“After Vidar turned me we travelled. We attended parties, drank like gluttons, and experienced things I could’ve never imagined. It was glorious.”

For a moment I return to those early years, when Vidar lived like every day was his last. His love was never a question I’d waste time on. How things have changed.

“I will never take those memories for granted. But immortality is a long time to be alone, even with friends by your side, and there is a story that every vampire learns at one point. Our soulmates.”

Golden’s breath hitches, forgetting the fries he’s been munching on and easing back into my chest.

“There are many versions of why we have them. Life, and even death, is a shared experience with fate, they say. Without us she is immobile. But immortals get to experience everything, so fate owes us a debt. Paid to us in the form of a connection to see us through the ages. A perfect match. And when you meet them for the first time, it will be as if you’ve already met.”

Golden’s nails dig into my shirt, fisting the material. Eyes so wide they could hurt, he nods, excited, scared.

“Okay, this shit is weird. But tell me all of it, Lucero.”

Finally, he will understand our connection and our love will be made real—again.

“I met Francisco in 1801.”

Golden frowns, his grip loosening, but I hold his hands to my chest.

“I knew him the second I found his scent. Golden hair and crystal blue eyes. I took him home with plans to turn him but…turning someone into a vampire is dangerous, as I said and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I lived a mortal life with him, and when he passed I planned to follow. But Vidar sought the counsel of his Maker, who told us our soulmates are reborn. So, I waited.

“Then in 1890 I found my soulmate again. I thought I’d gone insane when I saw Tristan, a new face but with eyes so golden they must’ve been magic. Again, I lived as a mortal, and mourned his passing as an immortal. In 1935, I met Samuel, this time he loved a golden crucifix. And now, you, Golden. I have found you.”

Golden is quiet in my arms, shock written all over his face.

“...I need a piss.”

He climbs off me. Golden’s boots hit the floor with a slap as he makes his way to the bathroom, the door swinging close behind him.

It’s time for my foot to bounce. I hope this wasn’t too much.

But I have faith. I’ve told this story twice now, once to Tristan and then to Samuel, shock always comes and then…love, pure love.

Tristan would tease and ask about my sex life with Francisco, touching himself until he climbed on top of me and rode me with all his strength.

Sometimes with others watching.

Samuel had been curious about the others who he shared a soul with, asking about them as if they were characters in a play. He has written a letter to Golden, that I will share with him one day.

Even with my impatience, I waited longer than I expected. Standing, I make my way over to the door he slipped through.

“Golden, I know this is a lot to take in.”

I don’t find my love. Instead, I find something else.

‘FUCK YOU! I’m no replacement!’ His message is written in jam on the mirror, the words dripping together.

Panic seizes me.

Frantically, I search the small area until I find an open window. Small, but big enough for Golden to crawl out and vanish into the night.