by Eva Brandt
I’d have liked to believe that Prince Darius was just being paranoid, but I knew he was right. The Accursed Syndrome was usually the cause of death for most soulmates, but sometimes, the Anomaly kicked in, and when that happened, all bets were off.
“We have to assume that because of her having more than one soulmate, the one-month deadline no longer stands,” Prince Darius said. “However, the earliest I’ve heard of a soulmate dying is a week, and so far, it doesn’t seem like Lucienne will get sick or injured sooner. Until this week ends, we need to be absolutely certain we’ve covered all our bases. I will look into it from here, and while I do that, you must keep an eye on her.”
I could see where he was coming from. If we went through with the regular process, we’d have next to no guarantee that something would not happen even after our demise. We could ask our families and friends to look after her, but would they agree? Darius’s position made that very doubtful and the only other option was Declan’s pack, which was problematic for other reasons.
The thought made me realize something I shouldn’t have missed, to begin with. “And what about Declan? He should know about this too. You haven’t told him, have you?”
Prince Darius shook his head. “I didn’t mention any of it to him, no. I fully intend to include him, once he returns. He might not be very happy with me due to my past actions, but we’ll figure something out.
“This isn’t about us, Guardian Braun. If nothing else, we can all agree on that. You might dislike me for everything I have done and the mistakes I have made, but some things are more important than others.”
I couldn’t argue with that, and I knew Declan wouldn’t either. “I agree, Your Highness. You can rely on me to protect Lucienne.”
Prince Darius actually smiled, and I found it just as shocking as his confession regarding him being Lucienne’s soulmate. I hadn’t deemed him capable of such an expression. Clearly, I’d been mistaken, and the simple, almost fond curl of lips changed his demeanor entirely. “I have faith in your skills, Guardian Braun. No matter what others might say, you’ve more than proven yourself to be a great asset to the kingdom, and I am certain you will fight just as fiercely for Lucienne.”
That was the understatement of the century, but I did appreciate the vote of confidence. It wasn’t precisely shocking as Prince Darius had always made it clear that he deemed us an efficient fighting force. This was on an entirely different level, though, and we all knew it.
For that reason, I wasn’t surprised when Prince Darius’s smile disappeared, fading into his regular, blank expression. “Oh, and one more thing before you go, Guardian Braun. Make sure to feed before you take up your post. I wouldn’t want you to do anything foolish because you’ve been starving yourself, and you’ll have to be out in the sunlight throughout this mission.”
I suppressed a flinch. “Yes, Your Highness. I will go retrieve the serum promptly.”
“Excellent. Dismissed.”
The abruptness of that final statement should’ve taken me aback, but oddly, it comforted me. It was familiar when nothing else was, and it made sense when everything else had become so very confusing. “With honor, we move forward,” I replied since it was still expected of me.
As I left Darius’s office, I headed toward the Guardian Canteen. In truth, I had never much liked going there. I acknowledged the necessity and could appreciate the fact that the Alarians put in effort into feeding us, but that didn’t mean the serum I was provided with always agreed with me.
It did not help that, as soon as I entered the canteen, utter silence fell over the previously noisy hall. All gazes turned toward me, some filled with curiosity, others with appreciation, pity or disgust.
I ignored all of them. The rest of the members of the Guardian Corps undoubtedly had their own opinions about my actions, but I couldn’t have cared less about them. If they begrudged me for breaking the rules or admired me for defying them for Declan’s sake, it was all the same to me. Hopefully, nobody would approach to ask about it, because I didn’t want to stay here longer than I had to.
Fostress Smythe received me the same way she usually did, with a bland look, and inquiries into my well-being. “You’ve missed three feeding serums, Guardian Braun,” she said as she retrieved an already prepared tube. “I know there were certain delicate circumstances involved, but you cannot allow yourself to starve.”
I offered her my arm and waited patiently for her to inject the serum into my bloodstream. As the needle pierced my flesh, I answered, “It wasn’t something I did on purpose. It will not happen again.”
That much, I could guarantee, since I would probably not be alive long enough to start skipping meals again. Just a little less than a week. Could we find the answer to our dilemma until then? Could we figure out how in the world it had been possible for Lucienne to be the mate of three men who were so different, and could we protect her from it? Somehow, I doubted it.
Twelve
Temptation
Lucienne
“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll make us some tea.”
“Right. Thanks. I’ll just... wait here.”
I watched my soulmate take a seat on my small couch, and ached inside. I knew that what I had done earlier changed very little about our current situation. The voice had made that clear, and I believed it.
Just because the Alarians had released my soulmate did not mean that Declan was not still in imminent danger of dying, probably by his own hand.
I put the kettle on the stove, wondering how I was supposed to approach this. I did not want Declan to die, but I didn’t want to die either. According to the voice, there truly was no way around the curse. So where did we go from here?
Declan was waiting for me on the couch when I returned to the living room, carrying two mugs of tea. “You know,” I commented as I passed him the drink, “I’ve never considered myself the type of person who’d be a tragic heroine or a self-sacrificing romantic. The people I care about are very few, and they can take care of themselves. They don’t need me to do it. It certainly has never been necessary for me to talk someone I have a tentative relationship with out of committing suicide.”
Declan fumbled with his mug and for a few seconds, I thought he was going to drop it in his lap. That would’ve been unfortunate, considering the contents were steaming hot and would have caused a pretty painful burn on sensitive parts of Declan’s body.
Thankfully, werewolf biology prevailed and Declan managed to avoid disaster. He still put the mug away before he could even take a sip of tea. “Is that why you invited me over? To talk me out of something we both know needs to happen?”
“I don’t know.” I plopped down on the couch, keeping some distance between Declan and me. It might not make much of a difference, but I wanted to respect Declan’s feelings in the matter, insofar as it was possible at least. “Listen, I don’t believe that giving up so quickly is a good idea. I was lying through my teeth when I spoke to your superiors, and I don’t know what I actually am. Until two hours ago, I was completely convinced that I was human. But here’s the thing. As strange as it all is, I refuse to believe it’s pointless. I can understand you being upset and discombobulated about this whole curse business, but maybe our meeting happened for a reason. Maybe we can still do something about it, something that can help us fix this mess.”
Declan stared at me as if I’d just sprouted a second head. “I don’t even know where to begin to address all that. How did you figure out how to help me if you weren’t aware of your heritage?”
“Well, a voice popped up in my head and pretty much told me what to do.” I paused, realized what I’d just said, and took a big gulp of tea just because my own nonsensical words pissed me off. “And I can’t believe I’ve reached a point where I can say that and know it’s true. A few days ago, I was convinced werewolves, vampires and the like were only myths turned into cute pop culture references.”
“Right,” Declan said, a li
ttle weakly. “A voice in your head is actually not as unusual as you might think in our world. It’s more the identity of the voice that is the problem.”
“Can’t help you there.” I shrugged. “It refuses to introduce itself, or tell me much of anything except, ‘you need to do this to keep your soulmate from total annihilation’. I can’t even tell if its owner is male or female.” Not that I didn’t appreciate the help and all, but I would’ve appreciated it even more if it had come with a fucking explanation.
“I’m assuming this voice was also the one who told you what to say and do during the meeting with King Sterling and his family.”
“Yep.” My new friend had also said that it would be a bad idea if I allowed the Pures to analyze me too closely, although it had not elaborated on that either. “You look upset. Do I need to worry about being mind controlled on top of having a suicidal soulmate?”
“Certain types of mind magic sometimes have detrimental side-effects if they clash with others,” Declan answered. “It might not be an outside force at all, although I cannot imagine how another part of yourself would know things you do not.”
Great. Now I was supposedly going crazy. This just kept getting better and better.
“Maybe we can just set aside my mental health for now,” I offered. I had no idea how to address the problem I had just mentioned in any other way except through the age-old method of avoidance. I was far too tired to think about an alternative right now. “I think that as long as the voice isn’t telling me to kill myself, it’s not a priority. Handling the curse in a rational and non-lethal manner is far more important.”
“I hate to tell you, angel, but there isn’t another solution than the one you just shot down,” Declan said slowly. “I understand why you hate it and believe me, it’s not something that I actually want to do. But if the alternative is letting you die from the curse, I’d rather—”
“Ugh, fine!” I snapped, cutting my soulmate off. I placed my mug down on the coffee table since at this rate, I might lose my temper and do something regrettable with the liquid just out of spite. “We’re going around in circles. I’m realistic enough to realize we’re not going to reach any satisfying conclusion right this instant. Tell you what. Give me a month.”
“A month?” Declan repeated. “Anything can happen during a month. That’s completely irresponsible.”
“I think it’s a fair deadline. I’m told the curse doesn’t start to manifest immediately, and since I’m not human, a little extra time shouldn’t be too much of a risk. If I don’t figure something out within a month, you’re in your right to go through with whatever solution you decide. But give me the chance to at least try. Don’t take the choice out of my hands. Please.”
It was unfair of me to put Declan in this position. Even as I spoke, I could acknowledge that. But I’d never been a particularly fair person, and I knew that if I didn’t give it my all to find an answer to this dilemma, I’d always ask myself “what if?”
Yes, it was dangerous. There was no reason whatsoever why someone like me would be able to track down a method to break the curse when everybody else had failed and had resorted to such drastic methods to mitigate its consequences. Maybe Prince Darius and the voice were right. Maybe a solution didn’t exist, and the idea of breaking the curse was only a dream, a fairytale. Even so, accepting that fate without bothering to question it was not only lazy but also cowardly. I didn’t think I could live with myself if I did that.
“I’m a selfish person, Declan,” I added, willing my mate to understand. “I don’t even know... I don’t even know to what extent this is really about you. Maybe it’s terrible of me to say that, but I can’t accept being told things like ‘that’s just the way it is’. I just can’t be that person. So, please... Even if it’s not for your sake, or for the sake of this thing between us that we don’t understand, give me a chance.”
Declan’s expression softened at my confession. His hand twitched, just like it had before, in the courtroom, in an aborted motion meant to reach out to me. He picked up a cushion instead, possibly out of the desire to keep his hands busy. “All right, angel,” he said. “I get it. One month is too long, but I’ll agree to two weeks.”
“Really?” After all that, I had expected to have more of a fight on my hands. “You’ll agree to it?”
“Yeah. I mean... I’ve been doing stupid things in the name of something I believe in for as long as I can remember. It makes sense that my soulmate would be the same. Granted, you braving the curse is not quite like my decision to join the Guardian Corps, but still, I think I can understand. And to tell you the truth...” He shot me a quick, sad smile, still hugging the cushion. “I would like to talk to you more before I die. Just for a bit. I guess I’m a selfish creature too, at heart.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I certainly don’t mind it.”
“We’ll text. I’m still not sure it’s very wise to spend too much time in each other’s presence, but texting should be fine.” He set the cushion aside and took a deep breath as if bracing himself to say something difficult. “But, Lucienne... I know you’ll probably be mad at me for saying this, but I do want something in exchange.”
I narrowed my eyes at my soulmate. I had known the stubborn werewolf had agreed to my suggestions a little too quickly. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
“It’s actually two things. The first is to deal with that voice in your head. I know you don’t like the Alarians. Right now, I don’t like them much either, and it might be their fault you’re in this situation, to begin with. However, you do need to see a healer about it. I can figure something out or maybe find an alternative to Alarian healthcare, as long as you agree. You can’t set this aside like you said.”
I grimaced. I couldn’t blame my soulmate for making that suggestion. If I had been in his shoes, I’d have probably done something similar. “That’s reasonable, although I’d rather not go back there if I can help it. If you can come up with another option, I’d rather do that. What’s the second thing?”
“Well, this approach you’re taking... It’s not that unusual.” A shadow crossed Declan’s face, but he kept talking regardless. “There are still plenty of Accursed who believe it’s worth it to try to fight the curse or to pursue a soulmate bond regardless of the consequences.”
After everything I’d learned, I’d thought nothing could surprise me about this strange world I’d landed in, but with one simple sentence, Declan had managed to tear that asunder. This was the first time I’d heard that being mentioned. Not even the mysterious voice had said anything about it. “Seriously? I thought it was just you guys and those... scavengers.”
“There are also the Banished. Instead of rejecting the soulmate bond, they always embrace it. Once their soulmates die, they keep on fighting and dedicate their lives to finding a way to undo the curse. Most werewolves, my former pack included, are like that.”
Right, Prince Darius had said something about Declan’s pack having other ways, but I hadn’t paid attention to it at the time. Come to think of it, the approach reminded me a little of Darius’s story about Dahud. I wasn’t sure which option I preferred, but I did appreciate the fact that the Banished had not given up on fixing this apparently unfixable situation.
“Anyway, I obviously no longer believe that’s the right route to take,” Declan admitted, “but I respect the fact that you do. If you want, I can speak with my brother, and he’ll help you a bit, give you a starting point. To tell you the truth, it would make me feel better if you had someone who understands the risks watching your back while we do this.”
My heart clenched as Declan finished speaking. I had obviously underestimated my soulmate. Just the fact that Declan was willing to make this compromise, even if it went against what he believed in, was huge. Declan really was a very special person.
All of a sudden, the myriad of confusing emotions that I had been trying to suppress returned with a vengeance. The memory of what I h
ad seen in my vision flashed through my mind, and it seemed unbearable that we’d never get to have that, never touch properly, and never have a real home that we could share. It was wrong, unfair, and we should not be sitting here discussing alternatives to suicide. It was not what soulmates did, not really.
Before I could stop myself, I reached for Declan, shoved the cushion in his arms aside and pressed our mouths together. Declan was so taken aback by my sudden actions that he didn’t push me away. For a few seconds, it felt like he might do it, but I held onto him, pouring all of my need into this one kiss, into the simple lip-lock that shouldn’t have meant as much as it did.
It worked better than I had intended or expected. The amount of sexual and romantic experience I had was next to non-existent, but it did not matter. My desire flipped some kind of switch inside Declan, and his tensions and doubts seemed to fade away. He stabbed his hands through my hair and flipped me onto the couch, covering my body with his and turning what had been a tentative meeting of lips into an actual making-out session. I happily parted my lips for Declan’s invasion, moaning when he thrust his tongue into my mouth.
We didn’t have too much room to maneuver, but at that moment, I preferred it that way. The weight of Declan’s larger form shielded me from the world and cut me off from everything outside our little bubble of passion and togetherness. Just the feel of his kiss had my body practically aflame with lust. I clawed at his shoulders, pressing my breasts against his chest, desperate for more.
Why hadn’t we done this before? I couldn’t remember, but whatever reason we might’ve had must’ve been very stupid. Nothing was more important than getting Declan naked and inside me, as soon as possible. I was already so wet, my pussy pulsing with the need to be filled. When Declan ground his erection against me, I couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan.