Prologue
Sera had always known the exact day she would meet her soulmate. She did not know his name or his face; not his occupation or temperament. The fates were not kind enough to divulge that sort of information. She only knew that her heart was propelling her forward her whole life, toward a stranger that she would love immeasurably.
She’d had many men court her throughout the years, some higher quality than others. They were practice for when she met her true match—that was how she justified each tryst. She learned how to kiss, how to make love, how to handle frustrations and arguments and compromises. But these flings never lasted for more than a month or two before her guilt grew too overwhelming. After all, there could be no future with them, not while her soulmate awaited her.
Three days after the first full moon of spring, Sera awoke with a heat in her belly, an ineffable sort of knowing. Today was the day she would meet her destined. She threw on her favorite lilac dress, the one that matched her eyes. She brimmed with so much energy she practically vibrated, which made it difficult to work. How could she be expected to read palms or divine tea leaves when the love of her life would show up at any moment? She tried her best to remain professional with her morning clientele, but she found herself distracted and shooing them out the door the moment their reading was complete.
By afternoon, she was a wreck. She stole away to her bedroom between appointments and flopped onto her mattress. As she lay with her face stuffed into a pillow, she debated canceling her afternoon appointments. She was trying to urge herself to rise from the bed and endure the remainder of her workday when a noise caught her attention.
The beads that served as the door to her apartment clattered softly against the door frame, and a stranger’s voice called her name. She rose swiftly, scrambling out of the bed and onto her feet. She smoothed down her long black hair, checking her appearance in the mirror to ensure she was presentable. This is it, she told her reflection. The moment she’d waited a lifetime for. It was impossible not to smile at the thought.
She emerged from her bedroom, ready to confront her destiny, and found herself face to face with a man she’d never met before. She tried to maintain an air of indifference, even as her eyes roved over the man’s features. She stared at him, waiting for a magical feeling to overtake her, for that undeniable sense of belonging to sink in as her heart was claimed.
Yet she felt… nothing.
The man was handsome enough, with rich brown skin and a sharp jawline. He was lean and tall. A soldier, according to his uniform, which he filled out well. His golden eyes spoke of cunning and his movements were lithe. But he did not call to her soul. Her heart withered, and she was about to turn the man away altogether when a flutter of hope stirred in her chest.
Behind the stranger stood another man. He was several inches shorter than Sera, but he was broad shouldered. His blond hair was a mess, pulled back into a ragged bun, yet it suited him well. His aura teetered between mischief and sincerity, a devilry to his green eyes and yet a true kindness in his smile.
Sera’s heart sang. A knowing flooded her veins.
He was the man she was looking for. The one she’d waited her whole life for. She could see their future together as she smiled back at him. Adventure in the confident way he held his chin high. Laughter in the quirk of his lips. Safety in his sturdy, muscular build.
Her smile faltered. What, exactly, was she supposed to do? She couldn’t blurt out that they were meant to be together—could she? No. Of course not.
She’d fantasized about this moment hundreds of times. In each daydream, she and her beloved would lock eyes or brush hands. Then he would declare his attraction to her, and she would do the same, followed by an embrace. Then kissing. Then they walked hand-in-hand together toward a setting sun.
Now that all seemed strange. Too intense. Inorganic. A bit creepy. Not to mention, in her fantasies she had never expected an audience.
The taller man seemed to be in charge. He stepped into the room and explained the reason for their visit. Sera tried her best to focus, but her attention kept slipping back to the blond-haired man. Each time she glanced at him, she found his eyes glued to hers.
She invited them to sit at the table and coerced them into a reading. She wanted to know as much as she could—not just about her soulmate, but about the company he kept as well. From their body language, it was clear the two of them were more than colleagues. The energy between them was almost brotherly.
Trying her best to steel her nerves, Sera read their cards. The tall one—Lieutenant Southwick—went first. He pulled the Fool, frowning deeply as he took in the card with disdain. He relaxed some when Sera explained the Fool meant the beginning of a journey.
Then the blond-haired one chose a card. Sera held her breath as she waited for him to reveal his pick. It was the Queen of Swords, thank the gods. An excellent selection. Without even knowing what it meant, he held the card up proudly. He listened intently as Sera explained the card’s meaning, perhaps bestowing a bit too much praise.
All too soon, they were leaving. They had asked a few questions about Elyse’s whereabouts, and Sera had pretended that Elyse had been with her, as any good friend would do. And then the men were disappearing through the curtain of beads in her doorway, and Sera was left wondering what had happened. How could it have gone so wrong?
She hadn’t even gotten his name.
Her next client showed up a few minutes later, pulling Sera from her spiral. Distracted, she conducted a crystal ball reading for the young lady. Yet in the haze of the crystal, all she saw was him. At her next appointment, she was so frazzled that she dropped a teacup, completely ruining the reading.
By the time evening was upon her, she was very tired—and very confused. She kicked herself for not talking to the man more. She ran through their interaction again and again. Had she said something wrong? Perhaps her magic was off—she’d been mistaken about the day. Could it have been that the lieutenant was actually her intended? No, that wasn’t right. He was far too serious for her—a bit of a downer. He’d be an excellent match for Elyse, though, she noted.
No, it was definitely the blond man. She had felt it, an unmistakable pull. She thought he had felt it too, from the way he looked at her and smiled so truly. Yet he had left her with hardly a goodbye.
Sera let out a long sigh. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she willed them to go away. She had never cried over a man before, and she wasn’t about to start today. She tilted her chin up as if she could force the tears back down into her body.
Damn her pride. She had tried to seem coy, to be alluring, and it very well could have broken her fate. She hadn’t even gotten the man’s name—how was she supposed to run into him again? She could go to the palace, demand entry. If they turned her away, she’d ask for Lieutenant Southwick—tell him she had more information for him. Maybe she could make up some vague premonition.
Yes—yes that could work! She was already hurling herself toward the door, her skirt flowing behind her. She crashed through the curtain of beads and headed for the stairs. She tried to invent some fabrication to tell the Lieutenant, but her mind was filled with thoughts of him—his smile, his muscular shoulders, his wit. Oh, she could just picture him like he was standing before her—
She nearly crashed into someone on the stairs.
“Oh,” she muttered. She took a step back, then froze.
It was him. He was standing on the top stair, looking up at her. His hair was even messier than before, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. His forehead gleamed, even in the modest candlelight.
“You’re very sweaty,” Sera remarked.
What a horrid thing to say. The words had sort of tumbled out.
“You noticed,” the soldier panted. He tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
Sera let out a laugh. Actually, a guffaw was more like it. And then she laughed again, and she wasn’t sure if she was laughing because of her ridiculous comment or his silly response, or at the strange noises she was making. And then he was laughing too, and she laughed harder. The tears came again, but this time she welcomed them as they blurred her vision.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’ve been called a lot worse,” he answered. His breathing was more regular now, his smile so endearing as he stared up at her. “I’ll forgive you if you offer me some water.”
“Yes—oh, of course!”
Sera pivoted and hurried back to her apartment. The soldier followed her into the room but stayed near the door, respecting her space. As she poured him a cup of water, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.
When she handed him the cup, he reached for it with both hands. Rough calluses scraped the back of her hand, and she shivered, but she took her time relinquishing her hold on the cup.
“Thank you,” he rasped.
He clasped the cup with both hands but did not move.
Sera cocked her head to the side. “Aren’t you going to drink it?”
The soldier cracked a half smile. His eyes bored into her—those mischievous green eyes. This must be how her clients felt as she gazed into their souls. Except, she had never looked at anyone with such admiration as the soldier gave her.
“I’m all right,” he said, still holding the cup in front of him. His gaze softened as he added, “In fact, I think I have everything I need.”
Sera held his stare, even as she felt the blood rushing to her head. Oh, she could melt beneath his stare. Without realizing it, she stepped toward him. Her hands bumped into the cup, and she grasped onto it. The man let her take it from him easily, and she set it on the counter beside her.
“What is your name?” she asked. It was hardly more than a whisper, yet it felt like the most powerful thing she had ever said as she grabbed hold of her fate.
The soldier inched toward her. “Manny,” he answered, his voice low and gravelly. “But you can call me anything you’d like.”
She moved closer again, and their bodies were nearly touching. She swore their hearts were beating in sync, but that seemed impossible. Her gaze flitted down to his lips.
As Manny closed the distance between them and wrapped those calloused hands around her waist, she decided that she only wanted to call him one thing.
Hers.
