Page 40 of Cursed Lifeline

Bracing my hand against the tree behind her head, I force her stare to meet mine. Searching her eyes, I ask, “And what do you see?”

“The answer to my heart’s dreams,” her eyes plead.

My forehead falls against hers. My heart breaks. “How can I be your answer, Esme, when we’ve both been created to destroy one another?”

Her eyes hold mine as she wets her lips, and the air between us sizzles, snaps, and becomes electric. I wait with bated breath for her to tell me what I already know—what her mind whispered to me in that magnolia-petaled garden.

“Because I chose you,” she smiles, and my heart stops. “We’d never destroy each other, Felix, because, beyond our control, we’ve already chosen to love.”

My gaze falls to her lips as I hang on to her last word.

Love?

Swallowing hard, I lean closer and say, “That’s where you’re wrong. In choosing you, protecting you, the only way to truly love you, and keep you safe is if I stay away.”

My words hold more weight than she knows.

If the curse is real, choosing each other like this will prove fatal in the end.

But instead of listening to myself, I let the sudden, panicked thought of never holding her in my arms like this again get the better of me. My right hand fists her blond locks, my left possessively grips her hip, and I drive her body back against the tree.

She releases a startled gasp as my fingers lace desperately through her champagne tresses. As I twist her strands around my fist, I subconsciously make a dangerous choice to listen to want, need, and carnal instinct, if only for one night. Closing the distance between us, my lips brush lightly against hers, teasing the point of no return.

“If I kiss you,” I warn, “it’ll change everything.”

She holds my stare as our chests heave and an understanding is bridged between us.

“Do you understand?” I demand, needing to know she’s fully aware of what she’s getting herself into. “The rules are simple: I’m jealous and possessive. If we cross this line, you’re mine.”

My hand, coated in our blood, drifts to the back of her neck. The burning heart my fingertips seared into her flesh minutes ago starts to ignite. Her eyes widen. I try to pull away, but she leans her head back. Crushing my hand between her neck and the wood of the oak tree, she anchors me to her.

The connection. The promise. The commitment. The pledge we’re silently making swirls around us in an electric haze pulling us deeper into its thrilling trance. Her neck heats to an unbearable high and she lets out a light scream. I try to pull away, but again, she denies me the space to do so.

My hand shakes as I hold her eyes and the searing pain from my touch sears into the back of her neck. A lonely tear falls from her eyes, but I’m too paralyzed by what’s happening between us to do anything but watch it drift sadly down her blushed cheek.

Eventually, she whispers, “And you’re mine, too.”

Suddenly, the electric thread tying us together snaps into an irreversible tie. Instantly, her skin cools. I release her neck and this time she allows me the space I need to pull away. As my burning hand falls to my side, I quickly gather her into my arms.Speechless, I hold her under the moonlight and try to calm the rhythm of my thundering heart.

Taking a deep breath, she whispers, “My father says I’m to marry Lord Laurent.”

“Won’t happen,” I grit out.

My hands trail back to her neck.

“Felix,” she purrs as my fingertips gently caress the heart-shaped spot. “If I don’t marry him, my father will...”

Her words fall short as I pull back and another tear rolls down her cheek. Without thinking, I lean forward and kiss it away, then tenderly cradle her face.

“Trust me when I say, you won’t be married to a Lord you don’t love just to save your father’s estate.”

She stares up at me adoringly as I hand over the last piece of my heart and hope it isn’t a mistake.

My mind brings to remembrance a quote from her book.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

Hamlet was a fool. Sure, some believe he feigned madness. But anyone in their right mind knows that prolonged torment tricks the mind into self-inflicted, convincing insanity. In the end, he manipulated himself into a deranged frenzy that brought about his demise.

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