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Summary
James’s fingers suddenly brush against his skin, touching the very top of Regulus’s spine.
“This,” James says, his touch featherlight as it ghosts over Regulus’s skin, making it tingle in the most peculiar way. “It’s a lovely tattoo. Almost like antlers. When did you get it?”
Regulus can’t speak.
This can’t be possible.
Of all people—why James Potter?
Still, his mother’s words echo in his head. Every member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has a soul mark. A tattoo that appears at birth and can only be seen by their soulmate.