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My core pinched a little, not quite ready—despite my erotic dream—to fully welcome such an invasion.
Faint echoes of what my body had endured hinted maybe Henri was right, and I shouldn’t do this. The needling in my ribs was back. My bruises growing hot. But then his cock twitched inside me, and…I stopped thinking.
Folding onto his chest, I found his mouth blindly in the dark.
And I kissed him.
Rode him.
He snapped.
I moaned as he surged upward. Seated himself deep, deep, deep.
Pain transformed into fire.
I became that fire.
He was fire.
We transformed into twin flames as he pierced my body and claimed me.
Twin flames.
Twin flames…
Those two words pushed over a domino of memories—
“He’s a mystic as well as a Vedic astrologer, Khushi. Be prepared for him to scare you as well as enlighten you.”
My heart fluttered as my darling brother called me by my nickname.
Khushi …it meant happiness. He’d named me Ily thanks to a mistake when he was six years old. My mother and father had extended that name by googling what Ily could be short for and had chosen a pretty Arabic one for sunshine, which matched my eyes. I loved my name, but I loved it more when he called me Khushi.
“I’ll be fine.” I wanted to hug him, but that would be too much. He’d come into society despite all its noisy smells, sounds, and people. He’d come to support me. He’d come because today, I’d find out my destiny thanks to the stars.
“Ilyana Sharma?” An old Indian woman with white hair and a hundred beautiful bangles on her wrists beckoned us from her desk. “He’s ready for you now.”
Krish sucked in a breath, fortifying himself to step into a room with a stranger.
I knew better than to offer comfort or touch him. Instead, I let him sink into his way of coping.
Opening the door to a small office with heavy scents of sage and bright yellow calendula flowers hanging in a drying bunch by the window, my eyes fell onto an elderly Indian man sitting primly at a desk scattered with astrological charts, notebooks, and Post-its.
The moment our gazes met, he shot to his feet and frowned.
Krish stiffened. I went to ask if he was okay, but my fear for my brother’s wellbeing was utterly overshadowed as the Vedic astrologer, who was said to converse with celestial energies and far off planets, planted his weathered hands on his desk and said, “You are blessed with soulmates, child. In fact, you have one standing beside you. He found you in this life and recognised you as kin.”
My heart warmed.
I’d heard this tale before. My mother often told Krish and me that we all had multiple soulmates. A clan of them. An astral tribe that could manifest as our siblings, parents, and friends throughout our lifetime.
I smiled but then that smile fell away as the astrologer sat back down and studied my star charts that couldn’t be completely accurate, seeing as I couldn’t provide him with my exact date or time of birth.
Scowling, he said, “You are blessed, but it seems as if you requested to endure adversity. Your karma is worthy of an abundant life, but you will soon have a choice to make.”
I glanced at Krish as we each took a seat on the opposite side of the mystic.
“A choice?”
