Summary: Mika just wants to know, but Drake’s stubborn nature gets in the way. A soulmates AU (with a happy ending), with some scenes from Book 1 reimagined. This is based on an idea from Misha, about how the nobility and Liam’s potential suitors would wear gloves, because soulmarks form when you touch your soulmate’s hand.
The gloves Maxwell hands her on the plane are made from a soft, black material. They’re pretty, and look like they’ll fit, but she’s confused as to why he’s looking at her so expectantly.
“…thank you?” Mika says.
She hears Drake grumble something under his breath, right as Maxwell says, “Oh! You wouldn’t know. All of the nobility wear gloves.”
Suddenly it makes more sense.
“Because of the soulmarks?” Mika asks.
Maxwell nods. “As a potential suitor, you’ll be required to wear them too.”
It’s definitely not a familiar concept, though Mika can somewhat understand why. If Prince Liam chooses someone who isn’t his soulmate, or his soulmate isn’t deemed suitable to become queen, well…she can see why the gloves are required. Mostly. Partly she wonders why they don’t just use the soulmarks as a way to exclude people from the social season, but before she can ask Maxwell about that, he starts filling her in on what to expect.
Drake is skeptical and suspicious of her abilities to survive court and her motivation for coming to Cordonia. It annoys her, but mostly it fuels her determination to figure him out. The pleasant lilt of his accent, even when he’s being gruff and snarky, and the fact that she finds him attractive, make her even more intrigued.
She throws Drake’s sarcasm back in his face on the flight, and catches a faintly surprised look on his face, followed by a hint of a smile. It’s gone before she can give him a hard time about it.
As stubborn and thick-skinned as she is, court is a draining experience. Liam is nice, a genuinely good man, but Mika doesn’t feel particularly drawn to him. Sometimes she wishes she could just rip both of their gloves off and touch his hand and see if their soulmarks appear.
She does find herself drawn to Drake, wondering if he ever lets anyone in. His cynicism towards her slowly starts to melt away, and sometimes she catches him looking at her for a second too long. Sometimes, she wants to touch his hand too, to see if matching intricate designs will decorate their skin. But he keeps her at arm’s length, they’re never alone, and she’d never be able to get her gloves off long enough to find out without someone noticing.
When Drake walks out at Olivia’s, it doesn’t even cross Mika’s mind not to go after him. He’s hurting and there’s a storm coming, and while she can’t protect him from the weather, she can at least be there for him. Drake is obviously surprised to see her and attempts to send her back.
She stubbornly refuses, and eventually he relents. It’s cold, and even with her heavy winter coat and the heavier winter gloves she’s switched her usual ones out for, she shivers. Drake sits next to her, staring up at the night sky, and she leans against him, seeking his warmth.
Drake stiffens a little. “Kelemen…”
“It’s cold,” she protests.
Drake sighs and shakes his head. “You should go back.”
She doesn’t move, and Drake mutters, “You’re stubborn.”
Mika smirks, pulling the hood on her coat closer around her neck. “You’re one to talk.”
He grumbles something, but he lets her keep leaning on him.
“Don’t you ever wonder?” Mika asks after a few minutes.
“Wonder what?”
She holds up a gloved hand in answer, carefully watching him for his reaction. He stays facing forward, but she sees his eyes close, just for a moment.
“No,” he finally says when he opens his eyes again, but she doesn’t quite believe him. “I grew up around nobles, Kelemen. Trust me, none of them want to find out a commoner is their soulmate.”
“I’m not noble,” she points out.
Drake sighs heavily. “No. But you’re here for Liam.”
“Liam might be what brought me here. But that doesn’t mean he’s what’s keeping me here,” she says quietly.
Drake finally turns to look at her, looking startled and a little panicked.
“Kelemen. Don’t…you can’t say that,” he manages to get out.
“Why? What if I’m not his soulmate, Drake?”
“That doesn’t matter here. You know that.”
Before Mika can say anything else, something, anything, to convince him to just let her touch his hand and know, the wind picks up.
“We need to get back,” Drake says, and as stubborn as she is, she’s not stubborn enough to risk getting caught in this storm.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next time she brings it up is the night Tariq shows up in her room. He’s gone now, thanks in part to Drake, but Drake is injured and stubbornly insisting he’s not. He finally lets her check his ribs and the red mark that she knows will bloom into a bruise, though he carefully keeps his hands away from hers until she’s done.
She thanks him, and he waves it off as nothing.
Mika is surprised when it’s Drake, and not her, who brings up what would have happened if they’d met at another time, in another place, if Liam wasn’t in the picture.
“Do you think…” he begins, then stops, stubborn resolve returning back to his face.
It’s a look she’s started to know well. He pulls his shirt back on, and she grabs the back of it when he turns to go.
“Drake.”
She can visibly see his resolve start to crumble, just a little, when he turns back around. Her gloves are tossed haphazardly on the desk across the room. Mika keeps her hands down, even though she wants nothing more than to lace his fingers with hers.
“Don’t you want to know?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says, a hint of sadness bleeding into his words.
“Yes, it does. I want to know, Drake. I need to know. Please.” Her voice is a near whisper, pleading with him.
“Please,” she says again.
She sees the second he gives in, the stiffness in his muscles relaxing, the torn look on his face. Mika steps closer, their fingers nearly touching. She’s oddly nervous all of a sudden. If he is her soulmate, she knows she won’t be able to just pretend he’s not. But if he isn’t…her heart feels heavy at that thought.
As gruff as he can be, as much as he tries to push her away, she knows he cares about her. He might not say it in so many words, but his actions and the way he looks at her speak louder than anything. Mika slowly turns her palm up, his hand just above hers.
His eyes lock on hers, for an intense moment that makes her breath catch in her throat, and then he looks down as their hands slowly, so slowly, come together.
It’s instantaneous, the warmth that flows through her veins, the deep blue and hunter green lines that slowly twine their way around her wrist. She glances up at Drake, and finds him staring at the identical lines making their way around his wrist.
“Oh,” Mika breathes.
Watching their soulmarks form is breathtaking. Drake squeezes her hand once, a barely perceptible pressure. When the lines stop, she doesn’t want to let go of him. Mika watches him carefully, half-afraid of his reaction.
She knows soulmates don’t matter much when it comes to Liam choosing a future wife, the future queen of Cordonia, but it matters to her. This matters to her. Drake matters to her.
“Drake?” she says.
He looks a little startled when he lifts his head up. He looks like he’s searching for the words to say, his mouth opening, then closing, before he finally shakes his head and says, “Dammit, Kelemen”.
She frowns, about to protest, but then she sees the slightest glimmer of happiness in his eyes that she hasn’t seen there before.
“This isn’t entirely my fault,” she says instead. “You’re not actually mad about this, are you?”
Drake lets go of her hand, making her heart drop, then beat fast once again when he gently, almost hesitantly, wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.
“No, Kele-Mika,” he corrects himself. “I’m not mad.”
She sighs when he tilts his head down, and she tilts hers up, her lips finding his in a barely there kiss.
“Good,” she murmurs, and kisses him again, looping her arms around his neck. “You’re stuck with me now.”
Drake snorts out a laugh. “I guess I am. Thank god you like whiskey.”