Dean Winchester didn’t believe in soulmates. Not really. He believed in destiny when it came to monsters, curses, and angels with wings made of fire—but the idea that someone was made for him? That was chick-flick nonsense.

That is, until the mark appeared.

It started as a burn on his chest, right over his heart. Angry, red, and shaped like a fingerprint—no, your fingerprint. The world had changed. Heaven and Hell weren’t the only ones playing fate now. Soulmarks were real. And Dean had one.

He could’ve dealt with it. Maybe. If the name burned into his skin wasn’t yours.

You. The girl who had been a thorn in his side since the first moment he met you. Too stubborn. Too smart. Too loud. You challenged him, called him out, never let him get away with his crap—and you sure as hell didn’t like him either.

Or so he thought.

Because now he can feel your emotions when they spike. Knows when you’re hurt, or scared, or laughing. And it’s driving him crazy. He wants to ignore it. Pretend it’s not happening.

But when you show up at the bunker with a mark matching his, fresh and glowing like fire under your collarbone—everything changes.

It was like the universe had made a very bad horrible joke.