I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life. Why would such a powerful being have the slightest interest in an apparently cursed one like me? The idea is a ridiculous one in itself. I’m sure he has women everywhere, willingly throwing themselves at his feet. I know I would.
“Sit down, Little Tempest. You don’t want to leave me yet. Your curiosity has not been saturated.”
His authoritative voice makes me obey and sit back down despite the humiliation flooding my system. My whole face is burning from the discomfort. He crosses his long legs in a fluid motion and sits back.
“I know you have a twin brother because that is a depraved part of the curse.”
My eyes snap back to him as he speaks.
“That piece of Aurum your mother wears protects her offspring until her offspring get their own set of twins. Except there’s one small rule to all of this. Only one twin and their little family can enjoy the protection the Aurum offers. If I remember correctly, you will find your cursed soulmate between the delicate ages of eighteen and twenty. It’s inevitable, a cruel outcome of the curse. The sole purpose of that soulmate is to either impregnate you or to carry the children in her womb. One of you has to die; the longer you stay alive, the more the curse will drive you toward it. It will make you slowly go insane, eat up your rational thoughts, and replace them with murderous fantasies until you are on the verge of executing them. Until only one of you survives. Being able to use magic is a privilege, Harlot, but privileges can become unbreakable chains, shackles if you let them.”
“I’m surprised your mother withholds this information from both of you. She should be carrying a book with her that tells you more.”
I clench my fists in my lap to the point that it hurts; that’s how angry I am. I fucking knew it. I knew those books held vital information.
“Why are you telling me all this, Emrys? What’s in it for you?” I snap, irritated that he knows more about me than I know myself.
He raises his hands in defense. Even his hands are beautiful, adorned with silver rings set with stones and marked by thick veins.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Little Tempest.”
Then he shrugs as he explains how he was bored out of his mind traveling once more through the shadows when he smelled my scent, along with the cursed Aurum. Although he was not wholly confident, he needed to be near me. He sensed my need for danger and my thirst for knowledge, although it was unclear to him what I was after. He decided in a split second to invite me over, saying that my scent beneath the Aurum pulled him in, my soul calling out to his, and that enthralled him. I smelled of plums and rain.
“I should go home,” I say, feeling slightly nauseous from digesting what I just heard about a curse lingering inside me that wants either me or my brother dead.
I now understand our constant running. We aren’t running from anyone but ourselves. Mother wants to ensure that we will never meet any humans who can be our potential soulmates, thereby worsening the curse, feeding mine and Fynn’s violent thoughts. She probably believes she’s buying us time, while instead she’s slowly killing us.
Emrys pulls the table between his legs and wraps my limbs over his. I hold my breath as he comes closer. He leans into me, resting his hands on my thighs as his surprisingly warm breath caresses the skin on my neck. Would I let him bite me? I lean my head to the side as he nuzzles my neck, answering my own question.
“Will I see you again?” he says, his breath fanning across my skin.
I let out a deep sigh. I feel drawn to him. Am I allowing him to compel me? His soft touch along my neck makes my body react.
“Yes. I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”
I’m begging him in my thoughts to tell me to stay, not to leave. I can’t explain why, but I want to stay with him, but I don’t dare express that.
“Why don’t you stay? I can tell you more if you’d like. I want you to stay,Lucem Mei.”
He moves his hand over my leg, stroking me softly. I feel my skin pucker underneath the fabric of my pants as he continues his caress without my protest.
“My brother is probably worried sick about me.”
My protest is weak, as my fluttering heart has already decided I’m staying, never wanting to leave in the first place.
“Do you really believe that?” he counters.
He slides his fangs softly against my neck, eliciting a moan from me, which I swallow quickly, feeling ashamed of myself.
“Don’t do that, don’t contain yourself. I enjoy those moans. Now, do you believe your brother is sick with worry, Harlot? Don’t lie to me.”
I shake my head. No. No, I don’t. I’m sure the asshole is probably thrilled I left by myself this morning. He probably hopes I get killed in the process of walking away from him and Mother. A part of me wonders if Mother is happy, too. Would she stop worrying about the curse, feeling relief that she no longer had to commit her life to saving her children? If I stay hidden here, what will happen to Fynn? Will he succumb to the madness? Will I?
“I’ll stay the night.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, his lips find mine in a hungry and needy kiss. I’ve never kissed someone in my life, and I let his experience guide me. His tongue explores minewith a feral gentleness as if he’s holding back. I break the kiss. A strange sense of belonging comes over me—a familiarity, as if we had known each other in a past life. I want to be with him.
“Don’t hold back, Emrys; take everything and more from me. Please.”
