Page 15 of The Prince's Curse

Had the court brought in another Russian? A wry smile tugged at his lips. Well, he’d left. After all these years, Sasha needed someone to talk to.

“I know I got to her,” Shoshanna insisted. “She heard me.”

“And Armina got to you,” Alistair fretted. “I’m not like Julian. If I lose you, I won’t survive it. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Kova’s heart ached, and he realized that whatever had once bonded him and Lucia also bonded Alistair and the witch. And?—

No!

He shoved her name out of his mind, refusing to entertain her as a human being.

But what if she could stop Armina once and for all? He might be able to help her, giving insight into Armina’s tricks and ways. And maybe the evil bitch would finally fall.

But his Lucia… If they failed, then Lucia was doomed forever. Could he put her fate in those fragile human hands?

Eventually the conversation turned to Julian. Alistair tried to reassure her that it was not her fault if they failed to save Scarlett. His lovely paramour insisted that she knew that, but that wouldn’t make it any easier.

Of all of them, Kova understood Julian the best. He’d never had a chance to put a ring on Lucia’s finger and swear before everyone he loved that he would take care of her forever. But his love was etched in stone, shouted to the heavens all the same.

Perhaps uncharitably, he sometimes thought that Julian had it easier; at least Brigitte had died. She suffered only briefly before that cruel, ever-turning wheel caught her again.

But Lucia…

Foolish and vain, Kova had promised to rescue her as she went colder each day, her breathing shallow and fast with her bones fused and lungs freezing. No more graceful steps, no more delicate laughter.

I will fix this, he said over and over again, as if repeating the magic words would make it so.

He failed.

He watched her eyes dim to cold gray stone in those final moments. She went silent and still, and the world was empty.

For weeks at a time, he couldn’t sleep, unable to bear the thought of her suffocating, screaming silently for help, for Kova to save her like he said he would.

It was too little too late, but he would keep his word.

Soon, the conversation quieted into the murmurs of hungry kisses, broken here and there with sultry laughter. There was a little whoop of surprise, and the sound of doors closing as Alistair took his paramour inside.

His compass flared with a little spark, and he briefly saw a shimmering aura around the house. Something had sealed when they went inside. Good to know.

Kova noted the time. Five fifteen in the morning. Alistair was probably taking her to bed for a good tumble in the sheets before he had to go to sleep with the sunrise. Lucky bastard.

He considered moving now. They’d be unprepared, thoroughly distracted with each other. But some sentimental part of him still remained, and he thought, Let them have one last night.

There in the trees, he waited until a silent alarm alerted him that sunrise was imminent. He darted through the back of the property and out to the road, running another mile to his parked car.

Sliding into the UV-tinted protection of his car, he drove back into town to the chain hotel where he’d rented a room for a few days.

Tomorrow night, he’d take her out. Before sleeping, he checked the windows and hung out the do not disturb sign. After stripping down to his boxers, he took out the delicate little cross that had belonged to Lucia. He didn’t dare wear it, though he had carried it for over a hundred and fifty years.

Clasping the little pendant in one hand, he knelt on the carpet and prostrated himself, as if he could somehow earn divine favor if he just humbled himself enough.

His voice trembled as he spoke in Czech, wishing she could hear how much he had improved over the years. His accent was flawless, as he’d deluded himself into thinking that someday he would have the chance to talk to her again.

“Lucia, I am coming for you,” he murmured. “I know that I have no right to ask your forgiveness for what I must do, but I ask it anyway. I made you a promise, and I will make good even if it is too late. This is for you, my love.”

And despite the turmoil in his mind, he crawled into bed. His preemptive guilt faded with the grim satisfaction of knowing that Lucia’s suffering would finally end. For once, sleep came swift and gentle, and he suffered no nightmares.

When Kova woke at sunset, he responded to Armina’s request for a status update with a simple, terse message:

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