Now that I'm not incredibly distracted, my stomach is turning, and my nerves tighten in apprehension. I'm still getting over the overwhelming orgasm, so I feel torn between two extremes and glance down when I realize I'm unconsciously scrubbing my arm hard enough to scratch the skin.
Baelfire notices, too, and catches my hand, pressing it to his lips. "Nope. No more."
"But I enjoyed all of that," I huff. "A lot. I want more. Ignore my stupid body. If we go again, I just need to be distracted?—"
He cups my jaw, his gaze like warm honey. "I'm not fucking you when the only way you can enjoy it is by not thinking about it. What we just did was perfect and the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me, and we're not going to push it any further today. Okay?"
I sigh, petulant despite myself. "Fine. Enjoy blue balls."
Baelfire throws his head back in a sharp laugh. "You're so fucking cute. And not to ruin this moment by bringing up the elephant in the room, but…" He ducks his head and shoots me a surprisingly bashful look. "You...called me your mate."
Now, outside the heat of the moment, knowing I said that makes my neck heat. It just sounds so official andintimate.
I just shrug, pretending it's nothing. "I thought it might turn you on."
His smile is blinding. "Fuck yes, it does. You have no idea."
Actually, I do, I almost say.
Because the idea of him being mine is a siren call, something I know I should tune out…but I'm not going to anymore. As I said, I'm done resisting. The gods tempted me too far, and now these legacies will get a front-row seat to my bleak ending.
But I'm going to give them my everything right up until the end. I'll fight for them every fucking way I can.
Speaking of fighting…
"So, where exactly did you hide Pierce?"
21
SILAS
When I come to,I stare down at a bloodied knife clutched in my right hand. I'm standing in my private dorm, and for a moment, unadulterated panic swirls in my gut because the only person I have ever let in here is Maven. So if I stabbed someone in here?—
But then I feel the pain scorching through me, emanating from my right upper thigh. Swearing, I drop onto the seat beside the fire, clutching at the wound to keep the blood from gushing while simultaneously drawing on it to send healing magic deep into my leg.
Stabbing myself is a new and rather unpleasant development to my curse.
He snapped out of it,one of the voices in my head complains.
Finish the job,my father's voice hisses.
Another one of them cackles at my pain.
My head throbs, my ears ring, and for a moment, I can barely focus on healing my own leg as an overwhelming wave of paranoia has my gaze darting about my dorm in alarm.
"Who's there?" I snap when I hear a sound come from my kitchenette.
It's the one who stabbed you.
Here they come.
Ignoring the laughing voices in my head becomes impossible. Finally, I limp into the kitchenette, still clutching the bloodied knife, my breathing quick and labored. But all I find is a pot boiling over from when I started on the concealment potion for Maven…which, according to the clock on the stove, was hours ago.
I swear again. Slumping to the floor, I set down the blade and cover my face with trembling, bloodied hands.
I'm losing it.
How much longer do I have before my curse takes hold entirely? It can't be long. At this point, I likely have days or weeks left. Perhaps this could have been avoided had I come to Everbound immediately after my twentieth or twenty-first birthday, as is standard…
