Page 37 of Lucien

Mates.

Often over the years, Luc had wished they’d never run into Soren that night.

It had lit a fire in Luc he’d never been able to extinguish. Why it would, when he’d just been discussing a possible way out of immortality not ten minutes before, he couldn’t have said at the time.

But he knew it wasn’t just the assurance of extended sanity, an escape from a potential feral state. It was the idea that there was someone out there just for him. Someone who was bound to love him—who was boundtohim. Someone who would never leave.

He’d had Roman by his side, yes, but that was different. That was brotherhood. This would be a marriage, of sorts. An eternal promise.

And then Luc would have both brother and spouse. A family.

Luc had ignored so much with Victoria because of that hope. He’d ignored the way she delayed every discussion of turning. He’d ignored the way his monster remained unmoved, no matter how much the man inside him loved her.

And then he’d lost it all in one night, from one silly car accident, of all the fucking things. He’d lost his brother. He’d lost his future mate.

Or so he’d thought at the time.

Did that excuse Luc’s tormenting Roman for decades after? Probably not. But how terrifying it had been to face the rest of his life—however long or short that may end up being—all alone. How maddening to be left behind by the one person who’d promised to stay. How fucking disappointing for Luc to always be so easy to leave.

It was part of why he’d never turned anyone else. What would be the point? They wouldn’t stick around. They never did.

Luc slumped over his whiskey, absolutely hating himself for how maudlin his thoughts had become. He was turning into a caricature of Roman, brooding about morality over cocktails.

As they approached two in the morning, Monique started flickering the lights, kicking the remaining customers out of the bar with a surprisingly booming shout of, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay the fuck here!”

Luc downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass, watching the last of the patrons trickle out. He’d finished the bottle Monique had been offering him throughout the night and then some. Possibly unwise, to reveal the extent of alcohol he could consume, but whatever Jamie’s friend thought of his unnatural tolerance, she was keeping it to herself.

How many bars had Luc been to over the centuries? How many mortals who had sat beside him for the night were already dead and gone?

“What’s wrong?”

Luc opened his eyes—when had he shut them?—to find Jamie standing beside him, finally on the right side of the bar.

“Come here,” Luc murmured, tugging him in for a kiss.

He’d intended for something chaste and devotional. But Jamie quickly turned it dirty, slipping his tongue into Luc’s mouth and stepping between Luc’s legs to press his entire body against him. Luc’s cock hardened in an instant, his mate’s scent enveloping him in a wonderful cinnamon fog.

They broke their kiss at Monique’s whistle. “This is when I tell the two of you to get a room.”

“I have a room,” Jamie quipped, giving Luc a pat on the cheek. “I pay you rent for it.”

Monique threw up her middle finger before heading out the back door, trash bags in hand.

Luc leaned in to claim Jamie’s lips again, but Jamie was already heaving his upper body over the bar, his feet lifting off the ground, searching for something on the other side. The position placed his surprisingly round ass on display right at eye level for Luc to ogle.

Jamie rummaged around with something on the counter under the bar, then tilted back onto his feet before Luc could decide whether to give the temptation in front of him a smack, triumphantly holding up a pack of cigarettes. “Aha! I knew I left these here.”

Luc’s hand shot out before he could stop himself, grabbing the pack and tossing it across the room.

Jamie stared at him, stunned. “Um…”

“Those are bad for you,” Luc declared lamely in the ensuing silence.

“Uh…”

“Your mortal life is precious,” Luc explained. “Those could shorten it.”

Jamie cocked his head, blinking rapidly. “But I’m not exactly staying human until old age, am I now?”

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