Magnus never shook anyone’s hand. Not when he first met them, not until after he’d managed a nudge with a shoulder or an elbow, a tap from his left hand, some innocent contact somewhere safe. Not since he’d realized what the mark on his palm meant. Not once had he faltered, not since the first time someone he’d loved had left him. It hurt enough when it had been a love he’d chosen; he hated to imagine how much worse it would be when destiny itself broke around him.
At first Alec thought he didn’t have a soulmark. Not everyone did. Sometimes they disappeared, or changed, and sometimes they showed up later in life, signifying some twist of fate passed, some important choice resolved that you hadn’t even realized you’d made. But Alec doubted he’d be one of those, didn’t think he’d ever be able to want someone, be wanted back.
Bookmarked by Reacher712
06 Aug 2018