The Wicked

Cyrus caressed Serenity’s cheek, as he groped for the right words to explain what he’d known all his life.

She pushed his hand from her face. “Kindred?” Her eyes flared. “What are you talking about? How is it possible for us to have the same birthmark?”

All of his plans, even the way he wanted to explain everything, had disintegrated to ashes. “The bond we share goes beyond the constraints of time, space…the shell of our bodies.”

He stroked her jaw down to her neck. Lush heat stirred his flesh. “Our souls are one.”

“Please, say something that makes sense. Those men told me…you aren’t human.”

“We aren’t human. We’re Kindred.”

“You’re definitely not like everyone else, but if you expect me to believe that you’re…”

Her head shook, curly chocolate wisps of hair accentuating the loveliness of her face. He slipped off the band restraining her hair in a ponytail. The wildness of her tresses quickened his pulse. He twined a lock around his finger, petal-soft.

“That I’m…” Her lips, rose-colored and full, moved but no sound came from her mouth.

“You and I are kabashem, two halves of one soul.” He lifted her fingers to the mark on his chest. “We’re meant for each other.”

“What? Soul mates?” she scoffed, skimming the birthmark.

“Not in the distorted way you think of today. Our affinity is far more complex.” He struggled to clarify. The feel of her fingertips gliding across his chest brought him peace of mind, even though he could practically taste her fear and confusion. They were together. The rest would fall into place. “We’re one soul, split into two different bodies. Our kind—”

“Our kind?” She pulled away, brushing his hand from her hair, and pressed against the car door. “I asked you to tell me something that made sense.”

Coldness seeped into his skin down to his blood, penetrating bone. He needed her touch and the warmth of her body.

He gripped her hands, determined not to let her go. Heat cascaded through his flesh, sparking his arousal. He needed to taste her. To have her open for him so he could bury himself deep inside.

Desire whipped at his mind, urging his body to action. He strained to focus on her questions to help her understand.

“You’ve suffered from violent outbursts or depression since you hit puberty,” he said, not knowing exactly how severe things must have been for her, separated from the collective. “You’ve never been sick and if you’ve had an injury like a broken bone, you healed faster than others, than humans. You feel like you’re waiting for something, and once you find it your life will make sense.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. He could sense her fear draining, but some other emotion was building. Her chest no longer rose and fell. She was holding her breath. She was in shock.

“Breathe.” He cupped her face. “I know this is sudden and overwhelming, but I’ll help you through it.” He wanted far more than to help her. He wanted to feel her hot body writhing with the need to have his. Above all, he wanted to protect her from every awful thing in the world.



Serenity clutched the car seat, fingers biting into the buttery leather as Cyrus’s words resonated within. She had experienced episodes of depression for as long as she could remember, but what child who had their parents ripped out of their lives wouldn’t? She must’ve had strep throat or the flu at least once. She combed her memories, but couldn’t recall a single instance when she’d been sick. Yet what he said couldn’t be right.

“This isn’t possible,” she said. “Energy weapons, instant healing, Kindred aliens—”

“We’re not human, but we’re not aliens. You and I are halves of the same soul, meant for each other.”

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