Page 73 of Once Charmed, Twice Cursed
Weston guides me through the door of the inn, his hand resting against the small of my waist. Inside, a rush of warmth and laughter envelops me. I take in the cozy common room, then move to unlace my cloak. And gasp.
Mud cakes my simple dress, the ugly brown standing out against the pale violet fabric. My gaze darts to Weston’s black boots and pants, which are in a similar state.
“We’re filthy,” I say. “How’d we get so filthy?”
He studied me, quizzical. “By walking here? Why do you look like you’ve never stepped in a dirty puddle before?”
I blink at him. “Well. Probably because I haven’t.”
His brows lift, but a moment later, understanding smooths his features. “Ah. Right.”
I inspect my dress again. I don’t mind, really, it’s just that I’m still adjusting to losing the litany of domestic conveniences I once took for granted. Some, I didn’t even realize came down to luck. I never knew that clothes don’t always stay perfectly folded when you dig for something at the bottom of the drawer, or that the oatmeal doesn’t always run out just as your belly reaches its limit. Sometimes, you only get two spoonfuls, then have to hunt through the pantry for something more.
“Things are different for you, now,” Weston says quietly.
I don’t miss the hitch in his tone. I step in and brush my fingers against his jaw, coaxing his face down toward mine. “Not in any way that’s important. I’d give my luck up all over again to marry you. A thousand times.”
His mouth quirks, as if he doesn’t quite believe me.
But I rise on tiptoes and capture his mouth with mine. He gathers me close, and I melt into him, letting the rest of the world fall away. When I finally pull back, he looks slightly more convinced.
“How is it for you now?” I say. “Not being a Null?”
He ponders. “Different. I can do all sorts of things I couldn’t before. Build fires. Chop wood. The last time I triedto dothat, when I was still Marked... A nail had grown into the tree, and a piece of metal flew off and got stuck in my eye. I had to come here to Ravenfell to get it taken out. Which was...not pleasant. But now...”
He trails off, his gaze going distant. “I can do things. I canbreathe. It’s peaceful. Easy. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
My chest lightens. Briefly, I remember the conversation I had with his alter-ego at the cabin, when he opened up about the challenges of being a Null.
“You should’ve let me kiss you ten years ago,” I murmur.
His mouth tilts downward. “No, I should’ve been a gentleman and let you keep your triquetra.”
I open my mouth to argue, but his tone has shifted into teasing territory.
“But lucky for me, I’m not a gentleman at all. I’m just a pugilist. And an accountant.”
My eyes slide over him. In honor of our wedding, he’s donned the black garb I’ve become so familiar with, sans mask. “And a highwayman. A very sexy highwayman. One I’d like to get kidnapped by again.”
“Hmm.” His eyes heat. “I think I’d like to take you upstairs, now.”
I laugh. “I think I’d like that, too.”
The innkeeper ushers us to our room. Once there, the man lingers, delivering a rambling speech about dinner hours and what to expect from this evening’s entertainment.
I don’t listen to any of it. I don’t plan on leaving this room until morning.
When the door finally shuts, Weston makes for thebathroom. “I thought he’d never leave. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up, will you?”
I nod, my heart already spinning a hectic dance. Fortuna help me, the things I’m going to do to this man.
He shuts himself into the bathroom. I kick off my shoes and shuck my dirtied dress. Then I spread out on my back in the feather-down bed, waiting for my husband.
Goddess, my husband.
The word makes me so giddy that I swear a glow dances across the walls. I’m a lit ember, illuminating the room.
I close my eyes and smile.
