Page 116 of The Prince's Curse

The sex was wonderful, but she was quite enjoying being close to him. Simply being touched and treasured… She could barely remember the last time she’d been touched, other than Armina patching up her cuts and bruises from hunting.

His lips curved in a smile, though he still looked sad, as he always did. Her memories held that lovely image of him truly happy, without the weight of the world dimming his light.

Her throat tightened as the echoes of those memories rang out. His heart was heavy because he had lost his lover.

In some way that defied all logic and reason, he had lost her.

Before she could speak and say something foolish, he cupped her cheek. “Sometimes I wish I was just a normal, human man. Without all this trouble to drop at your feet.”

She smiled, and he stroked her cheek as it curved into his grasp, as if he was shaped just for her. “And when were you born?”

“Sixteen o’five, I believe,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “So you’d have lived and died long before Brigitte was born.”

He leaned in to kiss her brow. “Well, given that we’re talking about something that is impossible, it follows the rules of a fantasy. Meaning I’d have met you, charmed you, and ravished you in a hay bale that smelled of horses and mildew.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s terribly romantic.”

“Isn’t it? We’d have had horrific teeth,” he said drily. Then his smile faded, though its ghost lingered on his lips. “Are you all right? All of this must be overwhelming.”

Her heart kicked in her chest. “Well, at least if I die, I’ve checked this off my list.”

His face fell. “Please don’t joke about it,” he said.

She shook her head. “I told you, my choices are to laugh or to start screaming and never stop.”

“Those are your only choices?” he asked, sliding one hand over her hip. “Are you certain?”

A thrill of pleasure ran through her. “Perhaps you have a suggestion to occupy my mind?”

“I have an idea,” he said, grabbing her hips and situating her atop him. “You focus on me for a while.”

Strange dreams plagued Scarlett’s sleep. When she woke, she was not certain if the images that had kaleidoscoped through her mind were memories, premonitions, or the nonsense her mind spit out after days of stress and turmoil.

Julian was fast asleep, lying on his side with one hand grazing her waist. A contorted reach for her phone showed it was nine in the morning, well after sunrise. She hesitated, then stroked his cheek.

It was difficult to wrap her brain around the fact that she’d wanted nothing more than this man’s head on a platter for ten years, and now she wanted only to protect him from further suffering. A man who had given up everything to hold onto the tiniest hope of saving her… He deserved that.

She kissed his brow, then slid out of bed. A wave of dizziness swept over her as she went vertical, and she was struck with the thought, I’m a sitting duck.

Her heart thumped as she looked around, as if Mina would spring from the closet. Creeping across the room, she peered through the UV-film covered window. Just a view of the sprawling land behind the pretty house.

How would it happen? Would she see it coming? What if Mina could throw a blood clot into her veins, and she just dropped dead? Or a brain-eating parasite or a heart attack or?—

“Stop,” she said, her voice ringing out louder than she realized. With a guilty start, she glanced back at Julian, who still slept, a faint smile on his face.

She’d had her meltdown last night, and the grim reality was that she had no control over Armina Voss or her magic. Unless…

She grabbed her phone and crept into the guest bathroom. With her heart pounding, she dialed Mina’s number. This was a new phone courtesy of the Durendal vampires, but she’d memorized her aunt’s and Lux’s numbers long ago. In case she was ever hunting and got in trouble, it was good to have. Hell, the first time she’d met Kristina Arensberg, she’d left behind her bag in her hurry to get out, then used a cheap burner from a drugstore to call her aunt.

Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number. She wouldn’t answer. Not to a strange?—

“Hello?” The other woman’s voice was raspy, as if she’d been shouting. Quiet for a moment. “Scarlett?”

Her heart crawled into her throat. “Armina.”

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

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