And now, here she is, my mate, standing before me in all her ethereal, heart-stopping glory. I always prayed I would get my own angel one day, and damn, the universe did not disappoint. I can feel it in my gut, a thread pulling me towards her like a magnet, an all-consuming need to claim her, make her mine in every sense of the word.
She has to be Dani's guardian angel, the one and only—Seraphina. I mean, who else would swoop in like a divine fucking intervention to save Dani from my dumbass, memory-challenged self? It's not like we've got a rolodex of angels on speed dial.
I remember how Rhyland described what he felt when he first saw Dani—that aching feeling in his chest, that soul-deep need to claim, couldn't thinkstraight—She's real, and she's the one who can keep me from falling into darkness, and despair, the light to my eternal fucking night.
And the physical effects? Holy shit, it's like I've been hit by a truck loaded with emotions and sensations. My heart hasn't beat in centuries and is now pounding like a drum solo at a metal concert. Emotions I thought were long dead and buried are rising like zombies on a mission. And the world around me? It's like someone cranked up the resolution to ultra-fucking-HD. Colors are brighter, scents are more potent, and every inch of my body hums with newfound energy.
Speaking of scents—Oh, sweet chimichanga-scented heaven! I'm getting a nose full of her like a bloodhound on steroids. Dani's scent is like a watered-down version of this angelic confection standing in front of me. It's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to start drooling like a goddamn Pavlovian dog—the urge to taste her is so fucking intense that I can practically feel my taste buds doing a happy dance in anticipation.
This angel's fragrance is like a vanilla-spice smoothie with a shot of her own secret sauce. It's making my brain do the cha-cha slide, and my fangs practically scream, "Feed me, Seymour!" I want to faceplant into that neck like it's an all-you-can-eat taco buffet and just huff until my lungs file for divorce.
And her face? Sweet mother of all that's holy and unholy! It's like someone cranked the resolution to "You can see into the future" mode. I can spot every freckle, every microscopic hair. Hell, I could probably read her thoughts if I squint hard enough! She's the Mona Lisa in a world of crayon drawings, people!
Picture this: long, golden blonde hair that glows like a halo, framing a face so perfect it could make grown men weep. Smooth, sunkissed skin that begs to be touched, eyes like golden pools of caramel with lashes longer than the list of people who want to kick my ass (and trust me, that's one loooong list). And those lips? Plump, kissable pillows that could make you forget your own damn name. But that's not even the best part...
Those breasts? They're playing peek-a-boo with that dress, and let me tell you, I've never wanted to play a children's game so badly in my life. They're like two perfect scoops of ice cream trying to escape their cone, and I'm all about that jailbreak.
And she's fun-sized! I'm talking, 'gotta stand on her tippy-toes to reach my chin' kinda small. Plus, it means I can scoop her up easily. Manhandling made easy—now that's what I call ergonomic!
Those hips? Sweet, merciful mayhem! They've got more curves than a racetrack, and I'm ready to take them for a spin. I could get lost exploring those curves for days. Hell, send out a search party 'cause I'm going on an expedition, and I might never return.
In short, she's the kind of woman that makes you believe in intelligent design. Because only a higher power with a wicked sense of humor could create something this perfect and then let me anywhere near it.
I can feel the beast inside me rattling its cage, howling for me to take what's mine, to claim her in every way possible.
But I know I can't just pounce on her like a rabid animal. I've got to play this cool. Take it slow. Woo her with my charm and wit, make her fall for me as hard as I've fallen for her.
It's a fucking test of my self-control, but I'll be damned if I let my baser instincts turn me into a drooling moron in front of my mate.
She's my salvation and future—all wrapped up in one mind-blowingly perfect package.
Shit is about to get real, folks. Lucian's found his mate, and the world better buckle up 'cause this love story's gonna be one for the ages.
"Lucian?" Dani's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay?"
I don't know how long I've been standing here gawking like an idiot at my mate, so I flash Dani my signature panty-dropping grin. "Never better, Princess. Miss me?" I glance over at Rhyland, who looks like he's about two seconds away from strangling me again. "Hey, Rhy-Rhy—No need to get your panties in a twist. I'm all good, bro."
Dani, being the brains of this operation, lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. His memories are back." She hunches over, hands on her knees, catching her breath.
I stride up to the angelic bombshell, a grin spreading. "Well, hello there, gorgeous. Seraphina, right? The name's Lucian—your one and only mate, at your service." I say it like I'm commenting on the weather, like finding my soulmate is just another day in the life of yours truly.
Great job breaking the ice, dumbass.
I take her hand in mine, my skin buzzing at the contact. Bringing her hand to my lips, I place a gentlemanly kiss on her soft, delicate skin, my eyes never leaving hers. It's like staring into twin pools of molten gold, and I can feel myself getting lost in their depths.
Seraphina gasps a little at the contact.
"I must say, the universe certainly has a sense of humor, pairing a devilishly handsome rogue like myself with an angel straight from the pages of a Victoria's Secret catalog. But who am I to question fate?" I flash her my most charming grin, the one that's been known to make ladies weak in the knees and men question their sexuality.
Beside me, Dani makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a cough and a cat hacking up a hairball. Seraphina yanks her hand away from me like I've got the plague, her eyes wide. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, what she said," Dani chimes in, her voice hitting a pitch that could shatter glass. " Lucian, did you hit your head harder than we thought when you went airborne?"
I smirk, my eyes never leaving Seraphina's. "Hit my head? Oh, please, Princess. If anything, that cosmic bitch slap knocked my noggin back into place. Now, I'm seeing clearer than a hawk on Adderall."
Seraphina looks at me like I've grown a second head, but I wink at her, undeterred. "Now, now, my angelic cupcake, no need to play coy. I know it's a lot to take in, being mated to a specimen like myself, but I promise you, it will be one hell of a ride."
Dani groans, facepalming so hard I swear I hear her brain rattle. "Lucian, I don't think—"
