Page 119 of The Prince's Curse

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. So, I thought I’d let Shoshanna get a head start on figuring this out.” She gently pushed at his shoulder, and he let her down, though he took her hand and followed her downstairs. As she went to pour a cup of coffee, Shoshanna’s cat crept out from under a table and hissed at her, his fur standing on end. “I know, I creep you out.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“Shoshanna thinks he can sense Armina’s magic on me,” she said, eyeing the little feline. When she moved toward him, he bolted. With a sigh, Scarlett opened the refrigerator and took out a bright green bottle of creamer, then pointed to the crisper drawer. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” he said.

She handed him a blood bag from the drawer, smiling faintly. “You want me to warm it up for you? I hate to break it to you, but even after being reincarnated six times, I still don’t know how to cook.”

He forced a laugh, though it felt more like the huff of being punched in the gut. Before he could say anything, she shook her head and said, “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke. Maybe someday it will be funny.”

“Maybe,” he said weakly, reaching over her to take a glass from the cabinet. After pouring the contents into a glass, he put it in the microwave. “Are you doing all right with Shoshanna’s work?”

Her smile faded. “It’s not fun. I keep having visions of dying. And they feel very real. Visions…maybe memories. I don’t know. But I’ll be fine. Better a couple nasty visions than dying for real, huh?”

She pawed through the fridge and took out a pitcher. Rising on her toes, she opened a nearby cabinet, then flinched as glasses clattered out. “Shit,” she swore, clapping one hand to her neck. The smell of blood pierced the air, and he watched in horror as red trickled through her fingers.

“Scarlett,” he muttered, grabbing the closest dishtowel and pressing it to her neck. His feet crunched over broken glass as he walked her to a barstool and sat her down. “Sit there.”

“That was weird,” she said.

“Everything okay down there?” Shoshanna called. “I thought I heard something break.”

“Just dropped some glasses. I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up,” Julian called back. He’d been here enough to know his way around, and he fetched a broom and dustpan to clean up the broken glass.

While he painstakingly swept every inch of the kitchen, fearing shards of glass in feline paws, Scarlett cleared her throat and said, “You should know that I called Armina.”

“You what?” he spluttered, lurching upright with a pan of glass shards.

“I hate sitting around here waiting for you all to solve my problems,” she said, peering at the red-soaked towel. “All I can do is let Shoshanna drug me and lay there while she digs around in my mind. In my soul, maybe. I hate this.”

“What did she say?” he asked. “Did she make you an offer?”

She shook her head. “I thought she might. Some stupid part of me thought if I was genuine, maybe she’d let it go. And she might as well have told me to fuck off. She told me I’d picked a side and now I was stuck with it.” Her breath caught, and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I am done crying over this.”

“It’s all right to be afraid,” he said.

“No,” she said sharply, shaking her head. “I’m done. Now I’m just angry. And I don’t want her to suffer, but I’m done standing up for her, too. I can’t forget that she cared for me, but I know now that it doesn’t matter, if that ever did. She doesn’t care who she hurts.”

He hated to see her in turmoil, but there was no denying the relief that swept over him. After disposing of the broken glass, he crept closer and gently moved the towel. The cut was already closing, but it was dangerously close to those fat veins in her throat. The sight of her blood frightened him, bringing back that rapid-fire slideshow of nightmares.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“It stings, but I’m fine,” she said.

He nodded, then placed one hand over her heart. Her steady, quick pulse reassured him.“I love you. And I will protect you with everything I have. I know that’s not the promise you want, but it’s one I know that I can keep.”

She nodded and covered his hand. “I know. And I appreciate it. And I—” Her brow furrowed, and he could see the curve of her tongue, as if she was trying to shape the word love. “I…”

“You don’t have to say it just because I said it,” he said gently. Brushing a kiss on her brow, he swallowed the ache, the yearning, and reminded himself that this, merely having her, touching her, having hope, was more than he’d had in nearly two hundred years.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” she said when he drew back. “And I trust you to keep your word.”

Even those words shocked him with their weight. His eyes stung, and he didn’t trust himself not to cry. Instead, he bent to kiss her, finding that sweet, familiar taste on her tongue again. Before he knew it, she was on the stone counter with her legs wrapped around his waist, and he had just enough presence of mind to notice the crunch of tires on gravel before he made a fool of himself.

“I just got to the house. I know. I love you, too,” a familiar male voice said, muffled slightly by the door. Then there was a firm knock at the door, followed by an automated robotic voice saying guest at the front door. From upstairs, Shoshanna called, “Let him in!”

Scarlett smirked as Julian pulled away, sliding off the counter and pinching his bottom as she passed. She slid past him to open the front door for Misha Volkov, who smiled in greeting. “You’ve been ignoring your phone,” Misha said.

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