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Hell, I need a whole bunch of distractions.
I snuggle Bobble closer, breathing in his clean scent.
If Tim can get over me so easily, why can’t I get over him?
Maybe I need my own Hannah. Not Hannah, I think to myself.
But just like him, maybe the best way to get over one man is to get under another one.
Chapter Four
Sunder
It’s her. The woman from the dream. I’m certain of it. She looks the same, sounds the same… the only thing that’s different is he smell.
Her scent of mulled wine is heavily doused in vodka and lemon.
I watch, dumbfounded, as my fated mate stumbles away, muttering to herself about wedding registries. Once she’s already across the street, my feet act before my brain. I’m following with some distance between us, taking advantage of her terrible human senses to go undetected.
She stops at the door to a building, flinging the door wide open so it bounces back and hits her arm, causing her to stumble back as she tries to get inside.
Gods help me.
I stand in the street, watching her as she struggles simply to enter a building. Once inside, she leans back out, waving a childish goodbye to me that leaves me stunned. I sneak in behind her, just to make sure she gets to her apartment safely. She trips more than once walking up the stairs to the third floor, and I watch from the end of the darkened hallway as she finally gets into a door labeled 3h.
When she shuts the door, there’s a noise that sounds somewhat choked, like she’s stifling some kind of reaction. At first, I think it’s laughter but soon recognize the distinct pattern of sobs.
I want to go to her. The urge to comfort her pulses through me, and my hands clench against the impulse to shove open the door and follow her.
I creep over, putting my ear near the door. Her hiccups have gotten louder, but I only hear one pair of human footsteps. That’s good. She doesn’t have another one there with her. I don’t think she’d like me very much if I killed her partner here on Earth before taking her back to Illuemera with me.
A strange vibration hums through the door, padded steps on tile. An animal.
Sounds of her voice float through the door now, unsteady. Unsure of herself. Her voice turns shaky and hollow. The pit of my stomach drops as the soft sobs of my fated mate float through the hallway.
I start as her visceral scream echoes through the night air, flooded with deep emotion. The crashing thump from the other side of the room tells me she’s thrown something. Before I realize it, my hand is on the doorknob, but I stop myself. I can’t go to her, not like this. Not tonight.
I pinch the bridge of my nose before forcing my hand to release the handle to her domicile. This is going to be much more complex than I ever realized.
A door next door opens, a wide-eyed old lady gives me an accusatory glare. The last thing I need is trouble. I raise my hands and shake my head as I stalk to the stairwell. Thoughts swirl and twist in my head. Is this really happening? Can I be sure?
The stories of fated mates always spoke of an instant spark and mutual pull, if not recognition of their connection. For a moment on the street, when she turned around, I thought maybe she felt something. When she met my eyes, she stood a little straighter, eyes clear.
For me, it stirred something inside my chest. I didn’t imagine that part. Like something or someone pumped my body full of life for a brief second. The most beautiful creature in the world pulled me to her like a magnet, demanding my soul. Pulling her beneath my skin as I embed myself under hers, entwined for eternity to ride the Great River together.
But then nothing happened, and her eyes went glassy again. I’m not crazy. There was something there. A spark of connection. Maybe the bond didn’t snap into place because she’s drunk. Or maybe… it’s as I feared.
On the street, my stomach rumbles, aching for a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. I check my phone for a spot nearby, preferably where I can monitor her building. But it’ll be hours yet for anything to open. I shake my head, not for the first time since getting to Earth wishing for a Waffle House.
A gust of wind brings in a slight chill as I pull the air deep into my lungs, eyes closed. I picture home. The cliff-side palace with crystal clear water turning the mills and flowing into the waterfall. And I feel… nothing.
I know where she is. I found her. Now I just need to… what? All the planning in the world couldn’t have prepared me for that mess of a woman upstairs. Beautiful, fiery, alluring, belligerent, so incredibly sexy, unstable, and sad. So deeply sad. The hollow in my chest throbbed at the thought, prompting a wave of nausea.
Enough of that.
I sigh, sliding my hands in my pockets to take a brisk walk around the block, scouting each exit of her building. Although I doubt she’ll use any of the emergency fire exits.
How can I convince her to mate with me, much less that we’re mates? Humans know nothing of magic and bonds. The females I bedded in the past were always effortless ventures. I’ve never courted one or had to win one over. Who didn’t want a prince? Now… well, at least she’s just a human. Even as a fragment of a soul, I still am far above her in every way. She gets knowledge and access to Chroma. At least, that’s the theory.
