Page 104 of Cursed Lifeline

By design, I should want nothing more than to eliminate any threat to my kind.

The trouble is, doing so would leave me in ruin.

With that devastation in mind, I stash my dagger at my hip, tighten my grip around her neck, and growl, “Stop. Fucking. Bleeding.”

Instantly, her wound heals.

She sucks in a sharp breath just as I tighten my hand around her throat and cut off her air supply. “Tempt me like that again, kitten, and I won’t be so kind.”

Easing us back down to the gravel as the scent of her blood is washed away on a conjured breeze, I demand, “Take us to Ember, or I’ll fly her away and send a letter to your mistress telling her we were denied entrance.” They eye me curiously, debating the outcome of my threat. “I doubt she’ll show you mercy when she discovers you turned the key to her happiness away.”

Celeste stiffens in my arms, unsure of my words' meaning. The guards eye me curiously.

“Happiness?” one of the guards questions.

“Felix recently discovered there was more to the curse,” I reveal, remembering what was written on the letter on his desk. “Esme is a living sacrifice. Under the right ritual, her death holds the power to bring Draven back from the dead.”

“Impossible,” the guards say in unison.

I grin.

“Like I said, tell Ember I brought her a present. If that doesn’t work, give her a name I have a feeling she knows well. Evangeline.”

Thirty Five

Felix

songs: Secrets & lies | Ruelle

“Why areyou just now telling me this?” Alfred demands.

Arms crossed over his chest, he stares down at me with contempt as I sit behind my desk and toy with a piece of paper in one hand.

The letter that Talon read and can now use to his advantage.

If I know my brother, he’ll run his mouth just like the slayer we sent him off to Ember’s with. Why we ever trusted the volatile pair is beyond me. As I glance up at Alfred, and then catch the eye of Silas over his shoulder, I’m reminded why.

Because Celeste’s watcher has the final say.

Because Silas thought she was ready, or worse, has a hidden motive to erase Celeste from the present, and the future, since Esme has made her return, and this served as the perfect opportunity to do so. As I hold Silas’s silent stare, I’m inclined to think his intent leans towards the latter than my first, hopeful inclination.

Silas cocks a threatening eyebrow my way, and I release a menacing growl.

Gaze drifting back to Alfred, I say, “Rumor has it, a pair of star-gazing souls found their way to the highest hill of my estate last night. Care to tell me what you and Evangeline were doing while you thought the rest of the world was sleeping?”

It’s been clear to me since day one that Alfred has an uncontainable attraction to the fae. I wasn’t going to crush his spirits until I sensed it was time he knew all the facts. His desire for her was good fuel to get him to put down the bottle and focus on more pressing matters. Until I got the inkling that she might feel the same, I vowed to let him keep his daydreams and fantasies at night as he lay awake hungrily obsessing over claiming her.

The other night, when the pair lay under the stars, the truth traveled to me on a predestined breeze. Evangeline now toes the same line the hopeful fool in front of me has been dancing around for nearly a hundred years. A piece of her guarded heart fell for him against her better judgment. Sudden changes like that tend to make even the most level-headed individuals impulsive. We’ve come too far to be ruled by repressed emotions now. Which means it’s time I reveal a truth only myself, my mother, Dimitri, and Talon now know, and I hope Alfred won’t tell Esme before I get a chance to explain.

“Esme’s a sacrifice,” Alfred chuckles sarcastically. “Damn it, Felix, she’s been a sacrifice since day one. Her passing a century ago didn’t bring your father, Draven, back from the dead. I get that you think that’s to do with some ritual that hasn’t been performed properly yet, but I fail to see how that changes things. As long as we keep Esme safe, we have no problem.”

Letting go of the letter, biting my tongue, and watching as the truth flutters despairingly to my desk, I say, “What do you know of your little pixie, Alfred?”

His stance stiffens. Eyes fixed on the letter and the inescapable horror that could be rapidly approaching all of us, Alfred fidgets on his feet in front of my desk and growls, “Enough. What do you know about the fae princess you’re not telling me, Felix?”

A light chuckle leaves my lips. Picking up the letter, I reach across my desk and grab a zippo lighter. Flipping the top, I hold the truth above the blaze and grin as the tip of the paper singes and starts to go up in flames.

“Enough,” I smile as my gaze rises and meets Alfred’s over the fire engulfing the knowledge he seeks. “Enough to understand she’s more of a threat than you think.”

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