“Why are you giving this to me?” I need to know before I let him clasp it around my neck.
Braxton sighs. “Can’t you just accept a gift?”
I snort. “Not from you.”
“What if I told you there truly isn’t a motive on my end. I just thought you would get more use out of it than I would.”
I search his expression, looking for any hint of deception, but I come up empty.
“Fine,” I give in, and slowly push myself to sit up.
Braxton props himself up to better reach me before unclasping the hook on the back of the necklace, and it isn’t long before I feel the weight of the cool metal pressing against my skin.
The pads of my fingers slide up and down the necklace, running over the smooth stones which harshly contrast the jagged chain. I slowly lay back down and face Braxton again.
I can see his eyes growing heavy, and I decide to ask him one of the questions that has been eating at me since I first found out he was cursed.
“Why would you invite the witch’s magic into your home? What could have possibly been so bad?”
“Who said I—”
“I read about it.” I cut him off, stopping him from being able to deflect. “In order to create a magical deal, both participants need to willingly invite the magic in. It keeps mages from being able to just throw a curse upon people.”
I’ve been thinking about this a lot and how whatever his curse is, it has to be closely tied to me, because I never invited any magic in. Meaning whatever his deal was, it somehow roped me in with it, and it was able to do so without my consent.
From my readings and understandings, that has only been possible when any participant has been brought in who is unable to give consent, like a small child who can’t speak for themselves yet, or if someone were near death and unconscious. Neither of those options make sense for me. I was healthy and vibrant when Braxton came and snatched me from my home. At least, I think I was. The more I try to remember that day the fuzzier it seems to become.
Braxton releases a strangled sigh, and I already know his answer.
“You can’t tell me, can you?”
“Not yet.” He pauses, and I know he has more to say, so I wait patiently as he turns his head away from me to look at the ceiling. “But I can tell you it was worth it. Every stab wound. Every day, stuck in this castle. Every ‘I hate you’ was worth it.”
I brand his words into my mind. I can’t explain it, but I know they would mean more to me if I had the full context of what’s happening to us. When I finally uncover the answers to all of these secrets, I want to remember these exact words he said because maybe then I won’t hate him for keeping things from me. In my heart of hearts, I don’t want to hate Braxton anymore. I’m starting to understand that no matter how twisted things are for me, they’ve been worse for him.
Regardless of these discoveries, my objective has not faltered. I plan to break this skyforsaken curse and find out every truth he’s kept from me, if it’s the last thing that I do.
46
Braxton
Itrytomemorizeevery bit of what it feels like to be holding Azalea right now. Unfortunately, the reason I’m holding her is not because she’s still in my bed. No. Instead, I’m cradling her in my arms as I carry her out of my room.
She heard too much today. Gravesley revealed too much, and even though he mostly seemed to be talking in riddles, I could still see her starting to fit pieces of the truth together. Right before she fell asleep she complained of having a headache, and I knew I’d failed. I lost my last chance to win her back. It was over.
This curse has already stolen so much from me, so I decided I wouldn’t let it take the moment Azalea and I shared in my study as well. That kiss was filled with emotions she hadn’t expressed to me in far too long. It’s a cruel game this curse is playing, letting me get excruciatingly close to her while keeping her painfully far away from me.
She nuzzles closer to me and lets out a contented sigh. Sky’s Divine I could listen to that sound all day and never get sick of it. She seems so… peaceful. Something I haven’t seen her experience in a long time.
My side burns as I continue to carry her up another flight of stairs. I decided I couldn’t bring her back to her own room because of what happened in there, so I’m bringing her to the guest bedroom in the north wing of the castle. Even if Azalea were to wake up not remembering anything from the attack tonight, I couldn’t bear to put her back in that room. To have her so far away from me now that the fear of her safety is ever-present in my mind.
Truth be told, I don’t know if I’m ready to face her room again. Although I will need to get someone over there tomorrow to clean up the mess. That’s going to be hard to explain. It’s going to be even harder to weed out if there are any more of Dianthus’ spies lingering in the castle.
I slowly push the door to the guest bedroom open, making sure not to jostle Azalea too much in the process. As I gingerly lay her down on the bed, I go to pull away and realize her tiny fists are clenched in my shirt.
Deciding it’s better not to wake her, and happily using this as an excuse to not have to leave her yet, I smoothly climb into bed beside her. My fingers find themselves stroking through her silky curls, and it feels too natural not to be right. After so many centuries apart, I’m amazed to find there are still things I forgot that I missed. Watching her sleep and hearing her steady, peaceful exhales as she dreams is definitely moving to the top of my list.
She’s still clutching me as if I’m her only lifeline in this world, and the fact that she’s doing it subconsciously makes my heart and mind fill with something more dangerous and cruel than any curse this world has to offer—hope.
