Strings of Fate

Strings of Fate

2- Shifters and Scribbles

Trying to distract myself from the mysterious blue thread, I work harder than I ever have in my life. Sadly, my tips don’t show it. The customers who come here really do tend to be rather snobby. I am watching the clock as 1 work.

About an hour has passed when I finally allow myself to glance at my blue thread again. I gasp as I realise that the person it is connected to is in the restaurant right now. It leads to a woman sitting at table thirteen.

She looks to be in her early twenties like me and has pitch black hair with a slight wave to it cascading down her back. It is only a couple inches shorter than mine. Her skin is tan and. even from over here I can see she is absolutely stunning.

Trying to keep my nervousness from my face, I approach the table to take her order. As I come close, she looks up and meets my eyes and Lam surprised to see they are a golden. yellow colour. I glance down at her arm. She is wearing a gorgeous black dress that is probably worth more than I make in an entire month.

Thankfully, it is a halter neck which leaves her arms totally clear so I can see her mark. Her marks are black and the design wrapping around her arm is striking, I notice there are slashes through it that look like they might be meant to look like claw marks. Combining that with her golden eyes, it is pretty clear that she is a Shifter.

This concerns me a little, as Shifters don’t tend to befriend people who aren’t also Shifters. In fact, even amongst themselves, Shifters are picky about who they associate with.

You would rarely see a feline Shifter befriending a canine, rodent or reptile Shifter for example. I start to feel disheartened when I remind myself of the blue thread which is already solidifying and becoming more stable after this slight interaction.

Our friendship is already certain. I need to have faith in that.

I am about to ask for her order when a not–very–subtle cough from the man seated across

from her draws my attention. I had been so caught up in the Shifter woman, my friend–to–be, that I hadn’t even noticed she was with someone.

1/4

LIIILI

2- Shifters and Scribbles

am first struck by how classically handsome he is. Or at least how handsome he would be if he dropped the stuck–up expression that he is directing at me. He has hair that was somewhere between blonde and bronze and, like

and flee to deliver their slip to the kitchen. I fetch the bottle of wine the man requested and

the two of them at all. I can’t see any threads coming from the woman apart from the blue one linking her to me. The man also has a thread. It is solid and red and leads out towards the door and out of sight. He has already met his soul mate. I guess that the

more difficult than usual as I am completely distracted watching table thirteen out of the corner of my eye. It

their meal and I

of his seat and onto his

What on Earth is happening

of his pocket. My eyes widen, the woman gasps and pulls a hand up to cover her mouth. I am so caught

on her finger. A round of applause goes around the restaurant as everyone begins to congratulate the

entirely wrong. He is not her soul mate, he has another soul mate. He has already met his soul mate, so

2- Shifters and Scribbles

are fates, so they don’t need my assistance. But if this woman really is fated to be my close friend, can I really let her marry someone

to talk myself out of it, I scribble a note to her

you is not the right man for you and while it may be unpleasant to hear, I thought I should tell you now in an attempt to spare you more pain in the future. One day I hope to explain myself properly but for now this

I am truly sorry.

should sign the note. I have no idea how this woman is going to react. I know she will be my friend eventually, but she isn’t yet and I don’t want to push my

name and sign the note properly, but I can’t bring myself to make the note entirely anonymous either. I quickly scribble

slip her the note in a way that won’t alert the man.

I make sure to accidentally slip and drop it on the floor. I bend to pick it up and quickly slip my note in the woman’s

it makes sense for me to pay. Besides. once we marry, what’s mine will be yours. So, it doesn’t really matter

home. I release the breath as she pulls a purse from her bag, not noticing the

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