The witching hour was long gone. The sun would soon rise. While the pre-morning dark was on, I needed to be with her in the way the sun longed to be with the moon.
Fallon watched me watching her undress.
Shame, guilt, fear, none of that lived here with us. Only something else. Something immortal. Some ferocious thing that tasted like deathless devotion on the tip of my tongue.
She peeled off my shirt from her body, and my gaze followed the way her stomach slightly rose when she stole a breath. Her pants were next. I watched her white hair fall around her shoulders as she slipped out of them. Her spine erected, facing me again. My mouth parted behind my mask as my eyes followed her curves in slow motion, her dips and valleys and uncharted places my mouth hadn’t traveled.
Under the necklace I’d gifted her, her breasts rose and fell when her eyes locked on mine. I tore my gaze away and dropped them down her body, settling them on the dip of her hip bone. I closed my eyes. Opened them again. My vision was now blurry but still burned by the patch on her hip.
And what laid behind it.
I blinked them back in front of me, took a step forward, and stood before her. Then I dropped to my knees. Fallon tensed when I peeled off the patch. And under it, the dark shape of a crescent moon marked her pale skin.
The truth slammed into me all over again, a reminder that everything I’d done tonight was for her. I could never tell her. I could never tell anyone.
Breaking the curse did not come first. Fallon came first. And they would kill me for what I’d done if they ever found out what I knew. Over and over, I’d do it again and again. I wanted to rip the scar from my palm, replace it with a new one. One that would never heal, so I would always feel this suffering.
That way, I could remember how she made me feel like a man and not a monster.
Fallon fell back and sat over the edge of the bed, took my head into her lap, and pushed her fingers through my hair. I kissed her birthmark, both hating and loving it. Wanting to rid her of it, and wanting to cherish it. It was a peculiar feeling. One that was inescapable. It was the very thing that made me see so clearly. Made everything hurt like hell.
My thoughts tortured me. I’d blurted out words, moved fast and slow. My mind was everywhere, digging fingers into Fallon’s pale skin, kissing her softly before sinking my teeth into her. I couldn’t make sense of anything. She gripped my hair as I fought with myself.
Fallon told me she was here with me. She spoke words, something about me being good. She trusted me. She believed in me. She loved me. We were both unhinged for different reasons, and she had no idea.
“Julian,” she whispered, unbuttoning my dress shirt, her voice brushing my skin. Then I was out of it, kneeling between her legs and looking up at her. My gaze moved back and forth between hers, my palms sliding up her back. “Julian,” Fallon insisted, studying me, soothing me. “I’m right here. What’s wrong––”
I grabbed the back of her neck, pulled her close until her eyes fluttered closed. Then I lifted my mask, slipped my tongue inside her mouth. I tasted something that felt like a combination of running and screaming and letting go. A moan rattled in my throat. I pulled back, my thumbs brushing her closed lashes as I admired her parted lips. My tongue darted out to stroke the delicate things, to meet hers before it filled her mouth again. My cock swelled inside my pants from her taste. Everything was sensitive, like an open wound.
Rising to my feet, I leaned over her. She undid my button and my zipper and slid my pants off my hips, and I wanted her to. Her fingers brushed over the lesions that were slowly healing, and she pulled away, but I grabbed her face.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, shaking my head, keeping her in this kiss.
Fallon pulled away. “No, Julian, it’s not okay. Who did this to you?”
I hung my head, drew in a breath. “My coven needed me.”
“Your coven did this to you? Why? Tell me, Julian. Tell me or I’ll … Just tell me!”
I tried to hold off for as long as possible. I didn’t want to tell her what they did to me. What they always did to me. What I’d let them do to me. Fallon rose from the bed to get closer. I brought her flush against me, leaving no space between us, searching for the right words to help her understand.
“Because a fourteen-year-old girl was dying, and they needed our magic to save her. You have to understand that I wanted to save her. This is what I am. A host for magic.”
“No, Julian,” Fallon shook her head, her fingers drifting over old scars and new wounds. “You’re so much more than that.”
Silencing her, I turned her around and nailed her back to my chest. Her throat was a fragile thing in my palm, her collarbone carved and delicate. I kissed her shoulder and neck. Both of her hands squeezed my naked thighs before she found my hands. She guided them, dragging one across her stomach, the other over her breast. She wanted me now. Her arms lifted, wrapped around my neck, giving me access to touch her freely.
White hair covered my vision when her head fell back against me. I hung my head and watched my hands slide over her shuddering skin. These same hands I’d used to murder were capable of holding her together in my arms. But that was never me. This was me. This was real.
My palm glided up to her breasts and cupped them, a gentle squeeze. The other dipped down and covered her sex, and I swiped a finger through her heated slit. Fallon moaned so lightly. I watched her pull her bottom lip between her teeth.
The small gesture was enough to provoke all five senses. An eagerness spurred my movements. I held my breath, dipped down, and plunged my cock inside her. The instant and electric connection almost took me off my feet, and I choked on my words as her tight warm pussy clenched around me. “Fallon—I’m—fuck…”
She was on her toes now, digging her fingers into my neck for leverage. I wrapped my arm around the front of her and palmed her pussy, slamming my cock deeper, feeling her ridges grip everywhere from my tip to the base. I felt it throughout my entire body. Fallon whimpered, and I cursed, and this was us.
Connected, I held her close, crossed my hand against her chest, the other stroking her clit as I lost myself in the grind. The friction made me dizzy, made me gone. Made me crazy, made me calm. It felt so right to be wrong. My god, her fairytale scent was swelling the room, soaking into my skin.
My moans were broken. Her whimpers were shattered. I tilted her head until my mouth crushed hers, and my tongue swept between her sweet lips before we both fell forward onto the bed.
