Gone again, too quick to make sense of, but the afterimage hooks into me like claws. They’re not random images, are they? They felt more like memories or a warning. Maybe both?
Declan squeezes my side, his touch bringing me back to myself. “You all right?”
I shove my arm under the sheet and tilt my head back, forcing a smile. “I’m fantastic.”
Best sex ever.
Thankfully, I keep that last part to myself. It’s too soon to say something so embarrassing.
But that’s not the only reason.
I curl closer to him, pretending it’s afterglow stealing my words.
The mark on my arm moved closer to my heart. Just like he warned me it might. The curse is moving. But did it alsotry to show me something? If I don’t figure out what it means, embarrassing myself will be the least of my concerns.
Tomorrow, I need to return to the cemetery. Alone. I need to see the Widow. The flashes hint that the answer lies withher, not the Rider.
Satisfied I have a plan, I snuggle closer to Declan. He might be the best sex of my life, but if I don’t figure out how to help him break this curse, he might be my last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Declan
The weightof guilt that should be pressing down on me is absent.
Not the right kind of guilt, anyway.
I shouldn’t have brought Emery deeper into my world. Not when I know what the curse does to anyone who gets too close. I should be more worried about the mark climbing her arm.
Instead, all I can focus on is how warm she feels curled against my side.
How soft and sleepy she is, trusting me to keep her safe.
How fast I’m falling for a woman I shouldn’t have touched.
I should’ve gotten her out of Crowsbridge Hollow sooner. Now, letting her go feels impossible.
A slow, warm slide down my thigh snaps me out of my brooding.
I bolt upright, jostling Emery to the side. She murmurs unintelligible words and lazily strokes her fingers over my hip.
“Ah, fuck,” I groan as I stare at the split condom, fluids leaking everywhere. A string of curses ricochet inside my skull. “Em.” I reach back, nudging her shoulder. “Baby, the condom broke. I’m so?—”
“What?” She jolts upright, fully awake now.
Gingerly, I roll out of bed. “Give me a second.”
Instead of waiting, she follows me to the bathroom. Beautifully naked, she laces her fingers behind her back and leans on the doorway, completely unaware she looks like a centerfold teenage me would’ve torn from a magazine and worshipped in secret.
Watching her in the mirror, I clean up, then grab a dry washcloth, wet it and approach her.
She stares up at me with big eyes, glossy like she’s about to cry.
“I’m sorry.” I kneel in front of her and push one hand between her thighs, silently asking her to open for me. “There’s a pharmacy right over in Arrow I can take?—”
“It’s fine,” she whispers, tipping her head down to watch as I swipe the cloth against her sticky thighs.
“I test regularly,” I say. “Since I work with needles. They’ve always been negative. But like I said, I…” How could I be so careless? More worried about the stupid curse and marking her permanently when I should’ve asked if she’s on birth control. Having kids has never ever been in my plans.
