Final Call (An Avengers Soulmark Fanfic)

The Beautiful & The Damned

A/N: Here is the second chapter of Final Call- this story will feature alternating perspectives between Steve-Persephone-Bucky, with each chapter from purely one of their point of views. As such, I would really LOVE it if you tell me as you're reading how you like the POVs each chapter- do you think its an honest portrayal of Bucky or Steve? Do you like/hate/not care about the femOC? Please tell me if you have the time! Anyway, please enjoy :)

Persephone shut her apartment door with a sigh, hanging up her purse on the hook as she trudged hollowly into the living room to turn on the radio, her mind shaking under the weight of her worry.

She closed the blinds but left the curtains open to allow at least a hint of light to brighten the room.

She didn't need the light to see- nor were her movements as slow or as clopping as a human's would be in her position. No, even though she was brought down to earth by the weight of meeting her first mate, she would still be considered graceful.

Steve was sweet and she had no doubt Barnes was her second mate with how the two clung to one another.

She had watched them for several weeks before she let herself be discovered by the two of them, as if part of her sensed a growing need to meet them.

She had not been ordered nor asked to watch the two- she was technically on a vacation of sorts anyway- but she had found herself drawn to them for reasons she still could not guess. Neither seemed remarkable in any way, sure, they were alluring in their own ways- Steve with his unrelenting kindness and Barnes with a near unresistable charm (yes, even she had noticed it. It was part of why it was so fun to reject him in fact. It granted her immense satisfaction to know that she had been one of the apparent few to tell him 'no' and just thinking of it brought an wry grin to her face.)

She fingered the golden pendant that sat between her breasts, just out of view of leering eyes. Pure gold except for the small ruby that was encrusted into the pommel of the sword pendent, it would not mark her for what she was, but still managed to serve as a faithful reminder of where and who she had come from.

She had been yearning to return home to Atenda for close to a thousand years but had yet to decide upon when. Not that it mattered now- she couldn't leave her mates alone. Not when she had so little time with them already since they were human.

Humans were far too soft, far too breakable, far too short lived and she was not any of those things.

No, she was hard, unforgiving, bloodthirsty and most importantly- immortal.

Even now, a part of her clung to the memory of sitting next to Steve, of feeling his skin beneath her lips as she left him in the diner, his scent of warm apple pie and cinnamon still hung in the air around her.

A part of her was glad Barnes hadn't approached until she had left- she had no desire to feel the crushing weight of an emerging triad bond all in one day. But she had left Steve her address and her phone number and she had no doubt that Barnes would come calling soon as well, even if he had seemed broken at the news that she was their mate.

She wanted to rage at the thought of him rejecting her- of not wanting her- but Persephone shut that train of thought down thoroughly. She was not who she was back then. She was not going to throw a tantrum if a male turned her away- she was better than that.

But the idea that one of her destined mates doing that to her made her heart hang heavy in her chest, her hand stubbornly wiping away a rebellious tear at the thought.

It would not be as if she didn't deserve it- she had done awful things in her time and though she failed to feel guilty or any shame for her actions she balked at the idea of either of them discovering her bloody past.