Second Chance Soulmate: Engaged (Marked By Fate Series #1)

If zebra stripes, giraffe spots, and thumbmarks are one among their kinds and can never be similar to another, humans and their birthmarks are crafted more special by the gods. Instead of only one, there are two. Two people can possess the same birthmark, in the same position, with the same size and shape, with the same color and appearance. And that's how a pair knows they are soulmates, that's how people know they are destined, that's how people know who their other half is. Everyone is made for someone. Everyone is marked for their destined half. Everyone is born for a certain person they are yet to meet, or has already met down the streets of town while walking, in a school hallway or library, inside the office, in a park, even inside an elevator, somewhere unexpected, or literally anywhere. Cases say that it wasn't automatic that two soulmates would end up together and be happy forever, though. Destiny still acts and plays when it's bored. Fate is mostly bitter and let sh*ts happen. The heaven is too busy to bring a pair together and work hard for a long time so they would last. It is still a matter of decision. Humans are born with destined mates, but they are also born with free will. If they cheat, it's up to them. If they choose to stay single forever and leave their mates, it's up to them. If they choose to be with somebody else and not with their soulmate, it's up to them to ruin the world's balance. If they choose not to find their soulmate, it's up to them. While most birthmarks are luckily hidden from sight under modest clothing, some can easily be seen and figured out on skin. Some wanted to exploit their marks in hopes to meet someone who will claim to have the same birthmark, by then, they will find their soulmate. While some wanted to hide it and let their hearts and the fate work in bringing them to their pair instead. In whichever people are comfortable with, it is a given fact that birthmarks are sacred and plays a vital role in their society. But, for certain unknown reasons only they would know, there are a few people who doesn't believe in love, or refuses to believe that birthmarks will bring them to their soulmates. Some just simply hate the fact that their birthmarks exist and everyone has a destined pair. In a world where being soulmates is decided by destiny, fate, and heaven the moment two people are born, there should always be a conflict. Count Lucien Valdemor is one of those few people who doesn't believe in love and refuses to be happy about the fact that destiny is the one to assign them a soulmate. Since twelve, he has always hated his lip-shaped birthmark on the left wrist for it reminds him of his deceased soulmate, Kiara Nichole Chavez, and the incident where he lost his other half, where his soulmate died at such a young age. He is traumatized and could never get the picture of the young girl's lifeless body out of his memory, even if he tries. Every time he sees his mark, he remembers how Kiara fell in his arms and lost her life in an instant. His mark makes him sick instead of joyful like anybody else. It gives him unbearable pain and uncontrollable reminiscence. Everyone treats their birthmark with care in fear of losing the chance to find their pair, especially in a world that relies in destiny and fate, but what would be the point of keeping his mark visible if he already lost his soulmate and he is destined to grow up alone now, right? When he lost Kiara, he also lost hope and the other side of his heart became cold and lifeless. He loved his mark because it brought him closer to Kiara, but when he lost the girl, it started to bring him agony instead. So, Count did everything to refrain himself from seeing his birthmark from time to time, including but not limited to getting wrist watches and cloth covers... and ending up in a tattoo house to get his left arm inked with a full sleeve tattoo to cover his birthmadk in the most artistic way possible. ~ Nevertheless, until it's satisfied and entertained enough, the destiny loves to play, has made it a hobby to toy a people— let's say, human feelings, hearts. And in fate's game, the most unexpected tangling threads always get in the way to bring an element of surprise in a straight road, making the perfectly carved path curve and circle and break. Count, despite considering himself and his failed love story a lost case, has found himself included, not an exception, from being a little piece standing in a chessboard managed by destiny. And, soon enough, although the thought never really crossed his mind, hw regrets having his sacred birthmark hidden under skin art. Upon meeting Maxien Alforque, an engaged woman with the exact same birthmark as him and Kiara, Count wishes he never loathed the tattoo on his wrist. Fifteen years ago... Count shivered in the cold ground. His senses slowly awakened and he felt his arms and legs tied behind him, with his sense of sight covered with cloth. And then, he remembered what just happened. A few hours ago, they were playing at the park. A man gave them ice pops. They talked to him and enjoyed his jokes. He felt dizzy. He saw how the man lifted Kiara up and proceeded to take him, too. And before everything went black, he heard the kidnapper mumble, “I'm sorry, kids.” “Count?” He heard a familiar voice from a few meters away. “Count, are you... out there?” “Kiara? Kiara, is that you? Where... are you— where are we?” Count panicked and tried to get off his bounds, but to no avail. It was so tight and there wasn't any way that a twelve year-old kid will be strong enough to loosen the knot. “I... don't know. Count, I'm... scared,” the girl's voice was trembling in horror. “Kiara... Kiara... I... also am—” “Oh, you guys are awake,” a deep voice echoed in the empty room before Count felt his blindfold being pulled, allowing him to see his surroundings. By then, he learned how dark it was in the empty room. He saw the unfamiliar face of their kidnapper. And he also saw a small frame lying down the ground, weak, and looking so fragile. “Kiara...” He cried. Count felt his heart clench upon witnessing how bad Kiara's condition was. She was beaten, badly, her arms and legs were bruised, her lips were swollen, and her face has open wounds, too. All while he was left untouched, with only the tight knot forbidding his arms and legs in his back as his problem. “You, boy, isn't she your soulmate?” The kidnapper asked. “She is! Kiara is!” Count was quick to respond in fear that the man might do something if he takes time. “Please, let us go!” The young boy cried. “I will, don't worry,” the man smiled sadly. “Do you want to hold her close? What's her name?” “She is Kiara, Mister. And yes, I want to hold her close. Mister, I know you are not a bad guy.” Count badly wanted to run out and have Kiara near him to make the scared girl will feel safe and secured in his presence, but with his arms tied in his back, he just wasn't able to do so. “Count? Is that your name, boy?” “Yes! Yes, Mister.” “And you have a birthmark on your left wrist? Lip-shaped?” “Yes!” “And this girl also has it because she is your soulmate, right?” “Yes!” The kidnapper pulled the little girl up and looked down Kiara's wrist. There, a lip-shaped birthmark was placed. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest that made him look away in a haste. Why did he even have to see it again when he has been so sure of their birthmarks' place, position, and appearance for years now? “Lip-shaped... birthmarks... soulmates... like hers...” the kidnapper mumbled to himself and giggled sarcastically. “F*ck this.” “Mister... what is happening?” Count asked innocently. “Nothing. Count... Count, please grow up and be a great man. I'm sorry, but this has to be done. I'm very sorry, kid. I'm so sorry,” Count saw how the kidnapper's eyes became teary after saying those words, but he wiped it right away then proceeded to walk near Count and leave Kiara a few meters away. “After this, run away, find a safe place, and seek for help. Okay, good boy?” “I understand, Mister!” Count agreed eagerly. The man untied Count and told him to stay in his place. Count obliged and just watched as he went back to Kiara to also let loose of the girl's legs and arms. “Count...” Kiara mumbled lowly before weakly smiling and thanking the man for letting them go. “Kiara... is that your name, yes?” Kiara nodded and tried to regain her balance despite the ache in her muscles and limbs. “Kiara. I'm so sorry, hmm?” The kidnapper apologized and cried to suddenly. “Now, get to him.” With a rush of adrenaline to reach Count's side as soon as she can, Kiara ran using the bit left of her strength. Count opened his arms wide to welcome Kiara in his embrace, but before the girl even managed to reach his spot, Count heard a sudden echo of an ear-scraping bang. With a loud shot that rang in his ears, he felt a heavy figure fall in his front. Kiara did manage to reach him and tangle arms around his neck, but instead of feeling gleeful, the boy felt like a bucket of cold water just poured on him when he realized that the girl's breathing went off. He was left stunned and frozen on his spot, still kneeling on the ground with Kiara on his previously waiting arms. The bang wasn't a simple sound. He knew for sure that it was a gunshot. And when Count looked up at their kidnapper, he furtherly confirmed his hunch. He was holding a gun and it was pointed at their direction. Count trembled and he felt his tears suddenly cascading once more. There were fresh blood scattered on the floor and he can feel a warm and thick liquid in his face down his arms. “Kiara?” He called, but Kiara never moved again. He pulled the girl's body the closest he can, choosing to ignore his reality. “Kiara? Kiara? Hey, don't sleep on me.” “Count, run right now. Little boy, I am... very sorry. I know that a sorry won't right this wrong, still, I'm so sorry,” the man cried with trembling lips. His hand's tight grip on the gun let loose and the heavy metal dropped down the floor with a loud thud alongside their kidnapper's shaking body. The voice was seemingly regretful, but Count can't find himself sympathizing with the man's immediate dread. Instead, he was raging and fuming mad, he wanted to just pick the gun up and shot the man, like he did to Kiara. If only he wasn't too young, too weak, and too shocked, he could have avenged his girl right there and then. But the only thing he was able to do was look down and focus on Kiara, continuously call the girl's name, and pretend like the girl was just fast asleep due to exhaustion. “Kiara? Kiara?” Count cried with a miserable smile in his lips. There wasn't any response. “Hey, Kiara, wake up,” he tried to shake the body off him and laid the small figure on her back. “Kiara,” he tapped the girl's face while weeping uncontrollably, “we have to go home now. Auntie must be looking for us.” Kiara never answered and that was when Count has let the sight of Kiara's state sink in. Her angelic and soft face was now covered with blood stains, the left side of her head has a hole from the bullet that pierced through her skull, her blood kept on dripping and covering the ground, and her eyes were left open, but they were lifeless; she already seemed unrecognizable from the little girl Count remembers. “Kiara...” Count saw it all and he badly wanted to refuse to believe that it happened, that Kiara was dead. He saw how the man shot Kiara's head, how the little girl helplessly lost her breath, how her head blew off, how Kiara's usually calm eyes lost its soul, and how her inhales halted in a snap. Count saw how it ended for his other half, how he lost his heart's pair, how his soulmate was snatched by heaven at such a young age. He saw it all and he can remember how his chest suddenly felt like it was missing a piece. He saw it all. The next thing he remembered was waking up above a soft and comfortable bed, inside a white room that smelt like alcohol. He then heard a few steps nearing his spot, until he saw sight of two familiar and worried faces. “Mom... Dad...” “Count? How are you feeling, honey?” “Mom, where is Kiara?” He asked with hopeful but teary eyes. The woman shook his head. “Mom?” “Count, Kiara is... gone.” From that day, the life and hope in Count's eyes faded. The memories from the day Kiara died kept on flashing in his mind every time he remembers her... and every time he sees the birthmark on his left wrist.