Page 83 of The Immortal’s Mark

When the mugs are set before us, I notice Darcie doesn’t touch hers. Her hands remain clasped tightly in her lap.

I lower my cup. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” She smiles, but her unease lingers between, thick and palpable.

“Are you wondering why you agreed to have a drink with a total stranger?”

Her eyes widen, then she lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Maybe?”

I nod, understanding. Then, reluctantly, I ask, “Do you wish to leave?”

“No!” The answer is immediate, almost panicked.

I can’t stop the grin that pulls at my lips.

“Good.”

She hesitates, biting her lower lip. “Can I ask something, though?”

I gesture for her to continue. “Please.”

“Are you absolutely sure we haven’t met? I…I have the weirdest feeling about you. It’s driving me crazy.”

A familiar ache presses into my chest. I don’t want to lie to her, not completely. “I feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I confirm. “It’s why I approached you in the National Garden. I thought you might be someone I’d known.”

“That’s so weird,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

“Yes,” I agree softly. “Very strange indeed.”

Her blue eyes study me again, searching, always searching.

“Well… I’m glad I met you. It was nice to have a local tour guide.”

I lift my mug toward her. She mirrors the motion. “To meeting strangers,” I say.

“To new friends,” she replies, clinking her cup gently against mine before taking a cautious sip.

The conversation that follows is easy after that.

Darcie seems to set aside her confusion, choosing instead to enjoy the moment. And I allow myself to do the same.

I shouldn’t.

But I do.

And I learn Darcie is everything I could have imagined my One to be.

Warm. Clever. Kind. Entirely her own person.

There are echoes of the past in her, familiarities that tug at my memories, but none of them compare to the woman sitting across from me now.

It would be so easy to fall in love with her.

Dangerously easy.