Praise for A Cursed Kiss
“This whimsical and enchanting tale, filled with poisonous injustice and seductively forbidden romance, will sink its claws into you and have you falling for the monsters.”
—Nicole Fiorina, Author, The Stay With Me Series
“. . . a fast-paced adventure story about prejudice and its consequences, the beauty of trust, and forbidden love.”
—Natalie Murray, Author, Emmie & the Tudor King
“A dash of darkness, a seductive romance, and a quest that promises death. A Cursed Kiss is a one-of-a-kind adventure in a mystical world you won’t want to come back from.”
—Goodreads Starred Review
Copyright © 2021 by Jennifer Fyfe
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblances to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Published by Midnight Tide Publishing.
www.midnighttidepublishing.com
Book Title/ Jenny Hickman- 1st ed.
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-953238-49-8
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-953238-48-1
Cover design by Cover Dungeon
Author’s Note
This book has scenes depicting grief and loss, violence, sexual assault, and contains some sexual content. I have done my best to handle these elements sensitively, but if these issues could be considered triggering for you, please take note.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jenny
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1
My dying heart ached inside my chest, shrinking and withering until only an empty husk remained.
My hands shook as I clutched my skirts. It was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees in the secluded alcove and begging my sister to call off her betrothal. “You said you weren’t going to marry him. You swore you’d fix this.”
“Keelynn, please keep your voice down.” Aveen huffed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Exasperation left her shoulders slumping inside her sparkling blue ballgown. “I will fix it, but you have to be patient.”
If we didn’t act now, it’d be too late. “Father announced your betrothal two weeks ago, and you’ve done nothing.” Nothing except pick out dresses for her trousseau, flowers for the ceremony, and a destination for the honeymoon.
A wrinkle formed between her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Delicate matters take time to resolve,” she insisted, slapping me with the exasperated tone she typically reserved for our father.
Time had run out.
It was now or never.
“I’m the one who loves Robert.” The harsh whisper tore through my chapped lips. Licking them did little to relieve the dryness. “I’ve always loved him.” Ever since he had rescued me from that rogue wave when I was fourteen, he’d been my courageous Prince Charming, saving me from the monotony of life on this cursed island.
Not anymore.
Now he was to be my sister’s husband.
I dashed my hands against the traitorous tears tumbling through my lashes. Crying wasn’t going to help. “Why didn’t you tell Father to pair him with me?”
Aveen hated Robert almost as much as Robert hated her. And I was helpless, destined to watch as the two people I loved most in this world wedded each other.
What about me? Where was my happily-ever-after?
Aveen had suitors calling at the door every day. Why couldn’t our father have chosen one of them as her husband and left Robert for me? As the eldest, she was expected to wed first, but that didn’t mean she had to marry him.
Aveen rested her cold hands on the tufted pink sleeves of my lace and chiffon gown. “You have to trust me,” she said, giving my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Have I ever let you down?”
The loose curls framing my face tickled my cheeks when I shook my head. “Not yet.”
Aveen had been the steady shore to my shifting sea since our mother had passed away eight years earlier. She never failed to put my needs above hers.
Until she agreed to marry Robert.
“Lady Aveen?” a nasally voice called. It sounded like Sir Henry Withel, a knight from the neighboring island of Vellana. “I believe I have the next dance.”
Aveen scanned the full dance card dangling from her wrist and swore. When she looked back at me, her blue eyes glistened. “I love you, Keelynn. No matter what happens, please remember that.”
I couldn’t find it in my hollow heart to return the sentiment. I did love her. But at the moment, I wanted to lock her away until after the wedding. I wanted to wear the ivory wedding gown that had arrived this morning. I wanted to walk down the aisle in the parish church and exchange vows with the man I loved.
She left me behind the thick velvet drapes and crossed the glossy parquet floor of our ballroom to offer a gloved hand to Sir Henry. Together, the two of them made their way to the dance floor.
I could do this. I could survive. I could plaster on a smile and feign happiness for a few more hours.
My mother’s pearl necklace felt heavy against my throat as I took a deep breath, brushed my dark curls behind my rigid shoulders, and emerged into the ballroom.
Hundreds of candles cast the space in a rich, amber glow. The three-tiered chandeliers hanging from the vaulted coffered ceiling shimmered like moonlight on the sea.
A servant dressed in black swept past carrying fluted glasses of golden champagne. I snagged one and brought it to the line of chairs along the paneled wall. The only free seat was between Lady Gore, an elderly Marchioness who suffered from gout, and Miss Gina Fahey, the milliner’s eldest daughter who was pushing thirty and had yet to secure a husband.
Music from the stringed quartet harmonized with the murmuring crowd, clinking glasses, and stomping heels. Skirts and coattails spun as couples danced in dizzying circles. Around and around and around, mimicking the dark thoughts spinning through my mind.
Aveen’s golden hair flew across her flushed cheeks as Sir Henry spun her in a reel. Her betrothed watched from the fireplace with an impassive expression, surrounded by his three older brothers and a few other lads from our town.
I twisted the delicate stem between my fingers before lifting
the fluted glass to my lips. Champagne bubbles tickled my tongue. In three swallows, the drink was gone. If I was to survive this night, I would need more. A lot more.
Glass after glass, I drowned my sorrow, waiting for the alcohol to douse the fire of betrayal blazing beneath my skin. Searching for the blessed numbness hiding at the bottom of each glass.
A pair of polished black boots stopped in front of me. The boots led to a pair of muscular thighs encased in fine black breeches belonging to a man wearing a cocky smile.
Edward DeWarn, the new Vellanian Ambassador, was conventionally attractive, with a square chin and sharp cheekbones. His expensive black coat had been tailored to his thin frame. But what most caught my attention was the thin golden ring around his cerulean blue eyes.
“What are you doing tucked away in a corner all by yourself?” he asked, the light from a chandelier illuminating his brown curls like a halo.
“All this excitement is overwhelming.” I fanned my face to make the lie more believable. “It’s not every day one’s only sister gets engaged.”
Arching his eyebrows, he gestured toward the dancing couples. “Which means you should be on the floor, celebrating.”
“Tonight, I prefer drinking to dancing,” I said, my nail clinking against the glass in time with the waltz.
One-two-three
Clink-clink-clink
“That’s brilliant news for me.” He leaned forward to whisper, “I’m a terrible dancer,” as if we were old friends. We’d only spoken a handful of times since he’d moved to Airren two months earlier. “Would you like some company?”
I glanced around at the now-empty chairs. When had Lady Gore and Miss Fahey left? No matter. They were dullards anyway. The ambassador didn’t look like a dullard. He looked dark and distracting. “These seats are reserved, I’m afraid.”
Edward straightened and made a point of sweeping the busy crowd paying us no attention whatsoever. “Reserved for whom?”
Shaking my empty glass, I let slip a conspiratorial smile. “The next man to bring me champagne.”
The ambassador whirled and dashed around Regina Stapelton and her twin sister Brida, whose matching purple gowns reminded me of plump grapes. A moment later, he returned with two glasses, handed one to me, and sank onto the chair to my right.
“To betrothals,” he said, holding his drink aloft.
My smile faltered, but only for a split second. “To drinking.”
Our glasses met with a delicate tink.
Robert glowered at us from between jovial guests. I could almost hear his teeth grinding when Edward’s hand fell to my knee.
Robert had no right to be jealous.
He could have stopped this.
All he had to do was call off this sham.
“Do you know what?” I set my glass on the windowsill. I had lost count of how many I’d finished, but from the fuzziness clouding my vision, it had likely been too many. “I think I do want to dance.”
The ambassador shot to his feet and extended his hand. “If you care not for your toes, then I would be honored to be your partner.”
I didn’t care about my toes. At the moment, I didn’t care about anything.
My hand slipped into his, and he took most of my weight as he helped me to my feet. It took a moment for the world to stop swaying, but when it did, I found myself in Edward’s steady embrace.
A giggle escaped as we crossed to the dance floor and wedged ourselves between two couples. The musicians began a slow, whimsical waltz, and Edward’s hand slid to the small of my back.
The dark look on Robert’s face left me closing the gap between us until Edward’s chest brushed mine and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
One-two-three
Two-two-three
Had waltzing always taken this much concentration? Edward didn’t seem to be having any trouble.
“I don’t care for liars,” I said with a laugh.
Edward drew back a fraction, his eyebrows pulling together as he searched my face. “And what do you mean by that?”
“You claimed to be a terrible dancer and yet you haven’t stepped on my toes once.”
He grinned and went out of his way to give me a light kick on the shin. “Better?”
“Much.”
When the music ended, the ambassador asked for a second dance. I agreed. If he wanted to dance every last song with me, I’d let him. What was a party without a good scandal? It wasn’t as if I had any other partners waiting in the wings.
By the end of the sweeping tune, his hand had drifted below my hip, and the gap between us was almost nothing.
Robert slammed his glass onto the mantle, his neck red beneath the collar.
“This ballroom is rather stuffy, wouldn’t you agree?” Edward whispered against the shell of my ear. Delicious longing pooled in the pit of my stomach.
“It is rather stuffy,” I said, my tone matching his. My coy smile felt as false as the words.
“Perhaps there is somewhere more private where we could retire for another drink.” He slid one of the dark curls framing my face through his fingers and let it fall against my collarbone.
A chill of anticipation slithered up my spine. Distracting myself with him was exactly what I needed to turn this night around. “Go into the hallway and wait for me.” The last thing we needed was for someone to see us leaving together.
He caught my gloved hand and lifted it to his lips, and I felt . . . nothing. Why couldn’t I love someone like Edward? He was handsome, he was well off, he wasn’t engaged to my bloody sister. If only I hadn’t given my heart to a faithless lout.
Edward let me go and strolled confidently toward the arched doorway leading to the hall, nodding to couples as he passed.
I swayed slightly, floating on a sea of champagne as I meandered around the perimeter.
“Did you hear about Samuel Quinton?” Lady Gore asked in her haughty voice, layers of jewels decorating her ample chest. The cane in her gnarled right hand wobbled under the strain of her considerable weight.
“No, I didn’t.” Miss Fahey clutched the single strand of pearls at her throat as she stepped closer. “Do tell.”
As anxious as I was to escape, I paused and pretended to retie the ribbon across my waist. Samuel Quinton had used to leave bouquets of wildflowers for me in the stables when we were children. He’d moved away a few years earlier, and I hadn’t heard from him since.
Lady Gore crooked her finger, and Miss Fahey leaned in. My curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself drifting closer.
“I heard from a reliable source that he was murdered by a pooka this Tuesday just gone.” She sniffed. Beads of perspiration rolled down her cheeks, leaving streaks in her white makeup. “All that was left of him was his coat and purse.”
Miss Fahey sucked in a breath. “So tragic.” Her hand shook as she sipped her wine.
“So tragic,” Lady Gore agreed.
Neither of them sounded the least bit affected. Rumors of attacks were becoming more widespread. Only last month, a faerie had disguised himself as Lady Stapleton’s husband and tricked her into bed with him.
The creatures plaguing this island were getting out of control.
A hand clamped around my elbow and dragged me toward the open balcony doors. “What the hell has gotten into you?” a familiar voice snarled.
My breathing hitched and all thoughts of the vile creatures scattered.
Robert.
“Unless you want a scandal, I suggest you let me go,” I hissed, smacking his fingers where they dug into my skin. Couldn’t he see the couples beside the dessert table staring at us?
His grip tightened. “So you can continue making a fool of yourself?”
Chilly night air hit my cheeks as we slipped onto the balcony. The moon watched like a silvery eye peering through a hole in the heavens. I jerked free and whirled. What was he thinking, bringing me out here like this where everyone could see?
“Worry about yo
ur fiancée, not me.”
Robert stalked away from the door, tucking himself into the shadows. “My fiancée isn’t letting men paw at her in the middle of a bloody crowd!”
“You have a point. Perhaps I should have asked Edward to meet me in the gardens and let him paw at me there. You know how much I love a good romp in the gardens, don’t you Robert?”
The moon reflected in Robert’s blazing eyes. “You will not let him touch you again. You’re mine.”
My skirts swished as I stomped after him. I had been his, body and soul. Clinging to him like the ivy climbing these old stone walls. “Not. Anymore.”
He lunged. My back slammed against the gritty stones. Familiar lips crashed against mine. Bruising. Conquering. Tasting like mead and desire.
Damn the consequences of getting caught. It’d be worth it. He was worth it.
I poured myself into the kiss. Perhaps he’d forgotten what we’d had. Perhaps I could make him remember. If only these infernal garments separating us would disappear and I could show him again how much I loved him.
He consumed my senses, stole my rational mind. I loved him with every fiber of my being.
And yet I hadn’t been enough.
“No,” I gasped, turning my face away. “I won’t do this to Aveen.” He had chosen a side, and it hadn’t been mine.
“What would you have me do?” Robert groaned. His hands tangled in my curls, tugging my head back, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth. “If I don’t marry her, my father will cut me off.”
A Cursed Kiss (Myths of Airren Book 1) Page 1