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Chapter One
Itake a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of the warm sun on my skin instead of the cold void of the dream I just awoke from. My heart races in my chest as concern filters through from somewhere else.
From them.
“I’m fine!” I yell, knowing they’ll hear me from the front of the house. A wide smile breaks out across my face as a deep feeling of adoration washes through the bond, filling my stomach with butterflies I’ve grown accustomed to since everything in my life changed, since I met the Voclain twins.
Well, minus those hairy first few weeks, anyway.
The sound of their argument picks back up, making me roll my eyes as I stand from the reclined lounge chair on the back balcony. It’s been three months since my initiation not only have the nightmarish visions become a constant, but I’ve also gotten no closer to learning how to regulate the emotions they get from me. Unsurprisingly, the creepy as hell library contains no reference material for now to not share emotions in a soul bond. Not really something you can Google either. Milo threw a grown man sized tantrum when I asked them to teach me how to shut it off from my end, not that I expected any less. The marble floor feels cold on my feet compared to the sun-soaked wood of the balcony as I step back inside heading towards my widely unused bedroom.
I shift through my clothes, settling on a white crop top with a high wasted denim shorts, forgoing a jacket, knowing damn well I’ll probably get cold later. It’s strange, something that would’ve annoyed me so deeply before my time with them seems trivial now. How could I possibly be bothered by the temperature outside? A shiver running along my spine in the face of everything? I take in my flushed state in the mirror, gently running my fingers over the brand on my chest. Reveling in the way it tingles when they’re close to me. My azure eyes flutter to the hickeys I pretend to hate that adorn the pale sensitive skin of my neck. Something the twins insist upon. I couldn’t bring myself to hate anything they do, not really. I run my fingers through my hair, wincing as they catch in tangles. I could’ve laid out there all day, pretending the world outside of this house didn’t exist. That there wasn’t an impending doomsday resting on our shoulders. That I didn’t drop out of college. That my whole life wasn’t turned upside down. Pretending I wasn’t the janky science experiment of a bunch of bored goddesses. Even now I feel her lingering beneath my skin. It’s been that way since my initiation, a line of thought...of an existence that wasn’t entirely my own. Something I’ve negated to mention to my twins. The last thing they need is to worry more about me on top of everything else. They smile those heart stopping smiles; they laugh and hold me the way they always have. The warmth in their touch is unlike anything I have ever or will ever experience again, but I see it. The nagging truth of our situation that torments them as much as it does me. Hell,morethan it does me. I feel it at all times, the crack. The way it warps and rages, teeming to be unleashed.
Our divine purpose. To burn and cease to exist for a cause none of us would opt to fight for had we known the cost. We aren’t the noble heroes from the stories I grew up reading. Fate doesn’t care.
I slowly make my way down the stairs, stopping at the line of pictures on the walls, our predecessors. I don’t know why I always get stuck here staring at their faces. Wondering if they had accepted their fate better than us. What it would be like if Everett had been here? The twins refuse to give up, the bags under their eyes and the desperation in their touch all attest to the countless hours they spend in The Orders archives searching for a subtle glimmer of hope.
It makes me feel all the more guilty that it’s been so easy for me to accept. The fact that we’ll die.
It’s hard not to when you’re shown your own death every time you close your eyes. Different perspectives, but always the same scene. I hate it, I hate every excruciating second of it. I want them by my side forever.
I want to live.
But there’s no escaping fate. I think what I hate more than this predestined bullshit ending to an already fucked story, is watching them grappling to change it. Searching endlessly for a loophole where there are none. There is no escape, no plan B, no way out. Regardless of all that...
I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
****
Fitzpleasure By alt-J on Spotify
“Fuck that! You get up there!” Milo shouts as I walk out of the front door, both of them stopping to stare at me for a moment.
So easily distracted.
Not that I mind, having all of their attention on me feels natural. They certainly have all of mine. Their bodies glisten as the afternoon sun beats down on their alabaster colored skin. Skin I could map every inch of from memory. Milo smirks as I cross my arms, leaning back against one of the cool faded white pillars on the front porch. His chestnut hair sticking to his face from where they’ve been working on the house. Why they insisted on patching the hole Milo blew in the roof themselves, I have no idea.
“Enjoying the view, kitten?” Tate asks as he wipes at his forehead with his shirt, shoving it into his back pocket.
“Perhaps.” I toe at the aged concrete steps with my shoe, feigning indifference. How could anyone be indifferent around them? “Where are one of you supposed to be going?” Milo gives Tate a warning look, their eyes glossing over the way they do when they share emotions. I wait for something to hit the bond, my annoyance peeking when it doesn’t.
They cut me out. Again.
Tate’s smile widens. “Big bad Milo here is-” He’s suddenly cut off as his brother lashes out with air, kicking Tate back several feet onto his ass with a loud thud, the vibrant fall leaves scattering and twirling through the air around him. I giggle struggling to hold onto my annoyance before turning my attention back to Milo.
“Big bad Milo is what?” I ask softly, looking up from underneath my lashes the way he likes. Stepping towards him, watching as his eyes dip to my exposed stomach. The wind picks up, blowing my straight coal colored hair back as I get closer. He looks down. I almost see the faintest shade of pink fill his cheeks. Only making me a thousand times more curious. Energy swirls only seconds before I lurch backwards, almost in time to miss the splash of icy water that comes from Tate.
Almost.
“Milo-” He starts.
“Tate.”
“Why can’t I tell her? We share everything else?” Tate tilts his head, only half taunting his brother now.
Okay, now I’m annoyed and nervous.
“Tell me what?” I make my voice as hard and chipped as I can, despite my nervousness. I know it won’t fool them, but at least Ifeeltougher. Milo groans, running his hands through his dark messed hair before turning his back to us. My heart aches when I see the jagged scarring that decorates his skin. Having seen the horrific moment, they formed there more times than I can count. I try to cling to that annoyance, but it quickly fizzles out. Even after all these months together, I still haven’t gotten used to them. They’re beautiful in the same damaged and corrupt way that Milo is. It makes me love him so much more
