Marked for One: My Vampire Fated Mate

Mara

“Mara?”

I blink, forcing myself to look away from his bulging bicep as he moves away from the espresso machine.

Tom Hollis is a hunk. Easy on the eyes, six foot two and made out of a girl’s wet dream. With green eyes like the sea in a painting and the tattoos that cover his arms, it’s no wonder I can’t pay attention to half of what he says.

Not to mention that he owns a coffee shop and he gives me my caffeine fix every day. Like a plug for my addiction.

He looks up from behind the counter and tilts his head.

I press my lips together. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

He gives a sad smile and my stomach twists. Suddenly, I know exactly what he was talking about. “Just trying to figure out what I have to do to finally get you to go out with me.”

I can feel my cheeks heat. Tom is someone I like looking at, but beyond that, I find that our conversations fall flat. Part of me wants to feel more, but the spark just isn’t there. I might sound like a naive girl in her mid twenties, but I believe in true love.

Tom is not my true love.

I hold onto my mug and look down at the last sip of dark coffee I have left. “Tom, it’s not going to happen.”

He wipes the counter with his rag and leans on his hands as he looks at me. The feeling of his eyes on me, forces me to lift my eyes to his. I trace the scar on his cheek and shift in my stool.

Despite how beautiful he is, he is also rough around the edges. I don’t know where he’s from and he doesn’t speak much about his life before he arrived to Ravenbrooke.

He narrows his eyes. “Is there someone else?”

I roll my eyes and push my mug toward him. “No. It just wouldn’t work between us.”

He frowns. “How do you know?”

“I just do. Thank you for lunch!” I grab my coat and button it up as I walk outside.

The walk to my book shop, The Enchanted Page, is just two minutes. The bell rings as I push the door open and Salvador stickes his head out from behind a shelf.

He smiles at me, waving me over. “Hey, boss. How waas lunch?”

I shrug off my coat, throwing it behind the counter and sigh as I wave to some customers. “Good.”

He sets a book onto a shelf and lifts and eyebrow. “Did Tom ask you out again?”

I groan, grabbing a book from the box on the floor and handing it to him so he can shelve it. “Yes.”

He chuckles as he pushes the book into its place. “Just save the poor man from his misery and go out with him!”

I shake my head, my lip lifting in a slight scowl. “I don’t give guys pity dates.”

“Listen, I’m straight, so straight that I’m basically 2 dimensional, but if a man like that was asking me out, I might cave.”

I chuckle. “Well, I’m not caving. He doesn’t do it for me, doesn’t matter how pretty he is.”

He chews on his lips. “You know those fireworks people feel when they meet their love for the first time? It only happens in books, Mara. You have to be realistic. You’re too beautiful to be single.”

“I’d go out with you before going out with Tom.”

Salvador grimaces in disgust.

“Exactly,” I say between a chuckle.

The laughter fades quickly though, and I find myself fiddling with the flap of the empty box. “I don’t know what it is. Tom’s nice. Perfect on paper. Polite, successful, symmetrical face, decent taste in music. But something about him feels off.”

He eyes me sideways, curious. “Off how?”

I shake my head, frustrated that I can’t pin it down. “I don’t know.”

Sal hums thoughtfully and reaches for another book. “Who am I to question a woman’s intuition?”

I snort. “Thank you.”

Once he’s don’t setting the last of the books he clocks off from his shift. I stay alone for the last few hours the shop is open. It’s slow enough now that the tourist season is coming to an end that I can stand behind the counter and catch up on some reading.

“The moment she touched the ancient stone, everything would change, and her life would no longer be her own to control-”

The door from the front door rings and I quickly place the bookmark on the page I’m reading and look up with a smile.

A couple walks in, the woman shaking off her raincoat.

“Welcome in!” I say, trying to sound sweet and I look to the window.

I take in the light sprinkle of rain and the dark gray clouds, a smile breaking out on my face. I love this weather.

“What a cozy little place!” The woman comments to the man beside her. I assume their married based on their rings.

My heart warms at the words. It always fills me with a certain sense of pride when people like it here. I had sworn to myself when my parents died that I would keep this place afloat in their honor.

For us, this little store was a amagical escape from the real world. It is where I learned my love for books, where I would lose myself in pages of stories.

The customer’s husband barely acknowledges her, grunting his agreement before taking a left into the section where I have a little couch and a coffee table.

The woman rolls her eyes and makes her way toward me. “Men.”

I chuckle. “Well, I agree with you. It feels extra warm in here, like getting a hug from pixie dust.”

She smiles widely at me. “That’s exactly what it feels like!”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” I ask, setting my book aside on the counter.

She shakes her head. “I’m honestly just looking for refuge from the rain. Which is sad, considering what a cute little town this is.”

I look out the window again. “Ravenbrooke is definitely that.”

It’s a small town nestled in the mountains. It’s beautiful, quiet and the ultimate magnet for tourists. The downside is that it’s hard to get away from the gossiping. News travels fast and nothing stays a secret.

When my parents were killed in our house fire seven years ago, I was the talk of the town. It was terrible. The good part was that everyone banded together and made sure I was taken care of.

I might have been an adult at the time, nineteen years old, but I had no real world experience without the protection of my parents.

Small towns have their downsides and their upsides.

The woman walks away after that, looking through the books on the shelves. I smile to myself, having to stop from reaching over and picking up my book.

I decide to walk around and tidy up instead. I run my fingers through the wooden shelves, straightening the books. Something about a clean store and clean lines always makes me feel accomplished.

As I walk in front of a bookshelf I had looked at a thousand times today, I stop in my tracks. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, tightening to the point where I might faint.

There’s a ringing in my ear, sharp and tense. It aches all the way down to my jaw and I look to the man sitting on the couch. He looks completely normal, on his phone like his brain isn’t being ripped in two.

The pain from the ringing lessens as I turn to face the bookshelf fully.

This book hadn’t been here earlier, of that I am a hundred percent sure.

It’s enormous, thick like a brick, bound in dark, cracked leather that looks older than the store itself. Than even the town itself.

I look over my shoulder to make sure the woman is still looking around and then reach for it. I grunt when the full weight of it falls on my hands and I nearly drop it.

The cover has no title, just a raised sigil pressed into the leather. It’s a perfect circle surrounded by twelve eyes and then flanked by four ancient looking runes, their edges shimmering faintly from silver to violet as I tilt it in the light.

What. The. Fuck?

My hands trembles, my ears rang, and the world blurs at the edges.

I run my finger across the sigil and a sharp pain radiateds down my spine.

Okay, that’s creepy.

I walk it over to the counter and stretch out my fingers like I should be disgusted from touching it. On a sticky note, I write out:

Sal, can you please take a look at this book? Where did it come from?

I stick the note on the cover and go about my business.

After closing, I get into my car, ready to get home to sleep and eat. Except I almost swerve off the road when I look into the passenger seat and see the book right there.