Page 114 of The Guardian's Curse

Rolling over, she found a glass of water on the nightstand. Her vision was still a bit blurred, but she could see the outlines of her fingers as they wrapped around the glass. It was a vast improvement over the last few days.

Maybe she’d done it.

She took a long drink of water, which tasted bitter and ever so slightly of dirty socks. It had to be one of Ruby’s concoctions, or something had gone terribly wrong in the house’s pipes. But she was grateful for the funky taste as a warm feeling spread down her shoulders and up the back of her neck, easing the wicked ache.

Magic had been one hell of a party drug. She’d had dreams of spider ladies and fate and magic glowing rings. On a whim, she lifted her right hand and gasped. While there was no ring, thin inked lines formed an intricate, spiraling web around her ring finger, with several delicate tendrils across the back of her hand.

It was real. And if she could trust her own memory, she’d gained a hint of favor with a creature that seemed to think it was responsible for weaving fate itself.

The light tinkle of the piano from upstairs broke through her spinning thoughts. There would be time to ponder exactly what she’d experienced. For now, she needed to see that Alistair was safe. After checking that she was sufficiently dressed in a loose nightgown, she trudged up the stairs. Reaching the ground floor felt like running a marathon.

A familiar hooded figure sat at the piano, hands flying across the keys. It was one of her favorites, a Schumann fantasy. She drew a breath to call his name, but he turned before she spoke.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his hands, splayed across the polished wood of the piano bench. She’d barely noticed while he played; the pale, unblemished skin had almost blended into the ivory keys at a distance. As he stood, he shook his head to let the hood fall back from the face she had seen only in her dreams.

Her eyes widened. “I know you,” she murmured. The man before her was impossibly beautiful, with thick, dark hair that fell in messy curls over his brow. Lovely blue-green eyes followed her, twinkling with mischief as she approached. A dusting of dark scruff clung to his broad jaw. His lips were flushed and full, as if he’d just fed.

He was the man she had seen in her dreams, the first night she was here. Despite his magnetic beauty, she felt the tiniest ache of regret that the other version of Alistair was no more. She had not hated it the way Alistair had, and had come to like him, rough gray hands and hoods and all.

“Excuse me, but what have you done with my soulmate?” she said, fighting back tears.

His brow furrowed. “Shoshanna, it’s me,” he said, clearly hurt. He cleared his throat. “Is my voice...is it different?”

She gasped and shook her head. “Oh, I was kidding. I’m sorry!”

His lips spread into a smile, and he darted for her, lifting her up by the waist. He gazed up at her. “I’m afraid I’ll have to do in his place.”

She laughed and ran her palms over his smooth cheeks. “How did this happen? I was focused on myself. I didn’t try to break your curse at all.”

“I think you said it yourself,” he replied. “Your curse was bound to mine. When you broke one, you broke the other.”

She touched his brow, where there had once been curled black horns. His brow was smooth, his skin cool to the touch. His eyes closed, his obvious satisfaction reminiscent of Magneto getting his ears scratched. “How do you feel?”

“I won’t lie to you,” he said. “I had a rather unpleasant evening. Imagine a snake peeling out of its old skin.”

“Gross,” she said.

He nodded. “Extraordinarily so. But now you have returned to me, and I have everything I could possibly want.” His head cocked, and a mischievous smile spread on his lips. “Almost everything.”

In a blur, he carried her downstairs and deposited her on the sumptuous expanse of his bed. She marveled at him as he knelt over her. The simple pleasure of seeing him in the light was incredible. “I need a shower,” she complained as he lavished her with kisses, awakening the heat of desire. “How long was I asleep?”

“Two days,” he said. “I don’t care. I need you.”

“Considering how good your senses are, I care,” she said. She pressed one finger to his lips to silence his protests. “You can shower with me.”

He tilted his head, considering her offer. “Fair enough.”

He could barely keep his hands off her as she stripped down, and he was still half-clothed when he stumbled into the shower with her. As the warm water burst from the shower, he pressed her to the cool tile and kissed her thoroughly, tongue claiming her mouth. She gave up and let him scrub her clean with a sweet, floral soap that made her think of springtime and flowers bursting open.

Warm water cascaded over her back as he scrubbed her, kissing her shoulders, then in a line down her spine. She shivered with anticipation as he rose again, his cock hard against her. She turned to him and stared in wonder at his face. For the first time, she saw the desperate hunger in his eyes as he gazed at her, finally unafraid to be seen.

“My brilliant, beautiful mate,” he murmured. He kissed her lips, sliding one hand down between them to stroke her. She rose on her toes, giggling against his lips as pleasure flickered through her.

“I like the sound of that,” she replied, tracing the broad expanse of his shoulders. He grinned and hiked her thighs up around his waist, then carried her out of the shower. She squealed with surprise at the cool air, but he snagged a towel and tossed it around her. “It’s cold!”

“I’ll warm you up,” he growled, kissing the side of her neck. He gently placed her on the bed and knelt so that he was on eye level. His blue-green eyes were utterly riveting. “What would you like from me? I am entirely yours.”

“I want to look at you,” she replied, pulling him to the bed with her. She gently pushed on his chest, guiding him to lie back. A gentle smile spread on his handsome face as she braced herself against his chest, undulating her hips back against his hard length.

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