Placing one of her arms around my shoulders, I slide my other arm around the middle of her back before scooping her up and begin trekking to the castle. I normally would have at least asked a lady if she was comfortable with me carrying her in such a manner, but it was clear she wouldn’t be able to walk, and I wasn’t in the mood to waste time getting her to the infirmary over niceties. You would think after being alive for a century, it would have made me more patient, but it seems to have done quite the opposite.
When I look up, I notice the castle is much further away from us. That icy current must have pulled us further away than I initially thought. As I trudge closer to the castle, I notice the lining of Hawthorn trees that circle the cut off of the castle grounds. I remember when my father had them planted, talking of the thorned branches acting as another barrier to keep people from trampling our grounds.
I’m standing on the other side of them, which can only mean one thing. I accidentally went outside the castle grounds, and I didn’t turn to dust.
49
Azalea
IswearI’vereadthrough more books in the last week or so than I’ve ever read before in my entire life. And I like reading.
I groan as I close another book about curses that left me with more questions than answers. So far, one of the main lessons I’m repeatedly learning with each book is that mages love to keep the nuances of their magic a secret.
Yes, these books talk about general knowledge and very special circumstances where curses can be broken, but it feels as though no one wanted to sit down and explain how they’re formed in the first place.
Every curse needs to have a method for breaking it. It’s part of the balance and rules to keep magical beings from harnessing more power than can be handled. Or, as some believe, to keep them from becoming so powerful that they could challenge the gods in the sky.
Regardless, there has to be a way for Braxton to be able to break his curse, just like there has to be a way for me to be able to break mine. If the witch that cursed us didn’t put something in place, then it would show in the imbalance of the world, thekingdom, the castle itself. It would be evident somehow, but there doesn’t seem to be anything pointing to this.
Unfortunately, the method of breaking the curse does not have to be disclosed directly by the mage, meaning they can tell it to you in a riddle or through a code that you have to solve without knowing how. She could have even done something as convoluted as providing a riddle that would then point to a book, that somewhere in the pages, would hold the answer. This train of thought is what brought me to laying out the four children’s books in front of me. They’re the only children’s books in the castle, and they all have to do with curses, so I thought perhaps one of them actually held the key to the truth.
I nibble my thumbnail trying to decide which of the four books I should start with, when I hear the library door open.
My head swivels around, but I already know who’s going to be standing there. I have my pointed glare in place, readying myself to tell Braxton to get out again. I feel as though I‘m being a bit harsh in making him leave earlier, but every time he looks at me all I can think about is his hard length pressed between my thighs. I know what happened in here was primal, but what happened in his study was dangerously close to being something more, and Great Celestials, I would be the biggest whore if I let it happen. Even with that thought plaguing my mind, my body didn’t want him any less.
When my eyes finally land on him, they narrow, scrutinizing how he’s leaving droplets of water in his steps as he walks closer to me. Every inch of him is soaked.
“Have a bath?” I inquire, walking toward and more rapidly closing the distance between us.
My mind seems incapable of dropping the heavy weight of guilt that lingers from how comfortable I’ve become in Braxton’s presence. I should be fantasizing about slitting his throat at the dinner table and planning to write a devoted love letter to myfiancé using his blood. Instead, I’m thinking about how I want to mold my body to his, even with him dripping wet, possibly especially with him dripping wet.
My mind is at war with itself, and I am exhausted. I can’t help but think that perhaps Rhoden was right, her words echoing in my mind.
“I always thought it was weird how a man who is as in love with you as you say Phillip is has just been idly sitting back and waiting for you to figure a way out of this.”
He gives me a wry smile, but shakes his head. “Not exactly,” he mutters, his words pulling me from my thoughts.
“Oh?” I let my clear confusion bleed into my tone.
The moment I’m close enough to him, his hand finds my hip and pulls me the rest of the way toward him. I should stop him, but I don’t. I can fight it until my dying breath, but I want this. I wanthim.
His hand stays locked on my hip, his fingers kneading and massaging the muscle there. It feels so perfectly natural, as if my hip was made for the sole reason to give him something to hold on to.
“A young handmaiden fell in the stream while I was out picking you flowers. I jumped in after her.”
I gasp, my body leaning away from Braxton to better see if he’s hiding any injuries. My mind goes to the stab wound on his side.
“What were you thinking?” I reprimand just as he tightens his hold on me and pulls me back into him.
“I was thinking I couldn’t let her go and drown.”
Embarrassment swallows me. Of course it was a good thing that he jumped in and saved her.
“Worried about me?” He teases, and I quickly move to change the subject, because I simply can’t admit to that.
“Is she okay?” I ask, knowing that should have been my first question.
“Yes, she’s fine. She hit her head and fell unconscious in the water, so who’s to say what could have happened, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is what did happen, and she’s okay. She’s in the infirmary now.”
