Page 3 of A Cruel Kindness

Fuck.

Ignoring the pain in my arm, I opened the file.

My heart stopped dead in my chest.

It was a photograph of a woman’s back, completely bare and covered in the exact same tattoo that was inked into my own. I knew that Mark better than I knew myself.

And there wasn’t a leaf out of place on the massive tree on her back.

She had dark hair, near black, that was pushed in front of her, contrasting sharply to the pale expanse of her skin. Even through the tattoo’s ink, I could spy a few dark freckles scattered over her spine and shoulders.

Her arms were splayed wide, showing branches and leaves curling over her shoulders. As if in answer, those very same twists and turns started to buzz on my own skin.

She looked strong enough, her skin stretching over lean muscle. At least capable of growing stronger if needed. That was good, she could protect herself. Limit the chance of her getting hurt.

I blew out a heavy breath at the sheer weight of relief I felt at that thought.

“When?” I bit out, hardly able to push any words past the tightness in my throat. I felt like there was a hand at my neck, squeezing my windpipe.

“She arrives later today,” Peter said. My shoulders pinched at his use of she, despite the soft line of her midriff, dipping and curving from her waist to her hip, staring back at me.

God help me, I was already losing it.

That was the thing with paranimas. If you were paired with a gender you weren’t attracted to, it formed a sibling-like bond, not unlike twins. That’s how it had been with Carson, though we were simply paranovs—blessed with a ninety-nine percent Match. Now that I had a fucking Soul Mate to replace him, our Match would be no more than a distant memory of friendship.

But in the other instance … well, there was only one example of paranimas with the possibility for romantic compatibility that had escaped the inevitable pull towards one another.

I didn’t like those odds.

“I’m sorry, son,” Peter said, his deep brown eyes growing as soft as they could under his stern brow. “I know this isn’t ideal.”

That was the understatement of the fucking century.

I managed to wrangle my tone at the last minute. He didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of my fury. “I knew I was never getting out,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Even with…” I swallowed the words. Peter knew what I was talking about. I didn’t need to talk about Carson’s disappearance any more than I already had. Than had already been forced out of me through hours of brutal interrogation, ensuring I wasn’t a traitor like he was. “I knew it wasn’t happening.”

Peter nodded, but there was something more behind his eyes. Something he wasn’t telling me.

I secured my hand over the file, fully planning to memorize it and prepare myself for the arrival of my … well, my Soul Mate.

God, that sounded fucking awful.

With the towel still wrapped around my waist, I headed out of the baths and into the main hall of this outpost, fully descended into its war-torn glory.

The architecture and interior was designed with cost and functionality in mind, selecting things based on durability rather than appearance, which resulted in a lot of drab gray stone and pale beige paint to cover up the remnants of the temple that once stood here, lest you be reminded that the Emperor valued winning this war over preserving our history.

Technology was the only thing the Royals invested in out here, and even that was far below what was standard for Vir. And even further below that of the people we were fighting against.

I stomped through the stone halls with Peter in tow, uncaring that people were staring at me a little more wide-eyed than normal. It could have been due to the fact that I was shirtless, wet, or any of the other reasons they normally stared.

My height, standing at a solid five inches over six feet.

The fact that my previous Match disappeared with a spectacularly fucked-up flourish, right into the enemy’s hands.

My lineage, upsettingly full of stuffy, Royal blood that most people in here had never been so close to before.

All of which resulted in a fair share of gawking, none of which I cared to address right now.

Though as I weaved toward the main hall, the large, open area that served as a dining space, meeting room, and entrance all at once, the stares were growing panicked.