A Cursed Kiss (Myths of Airren Book 1)

by Jenny Hickman

  The blue gown slipped like liquid against my overwarm skin. I had just finished tying the sash at my waist when there was a knock at the door.

  “Are you decent?”

  It was Rían again.

  I opened the door to find my former husband waiting outside. “What do you think? I was feeling nostalgic,” he said with a wicked grin.

  I knew it was Rían, but he now looked exactly like Edward, down to the slight curl in his brown hair. “That’s not funny,” I gasped, my throat suddenly dry. It was like coming face to face with a bloody ghost.

  “Oh, fine.” Rían flicked his wrist, and his face shifted back into the man I had met in the forest. “Shall we?” He offered his elbow, but I hesitated.

  I didn’t want to go to dinner with Rían, I wanted to go with Tadhg. “I think I should wait for your brother.” There was no sign of him in the hallway. Was he already downstairs?

  “Oh, he’s not coming.”

  My stomach sank. “Why not?”

  Rían shrugged. “I heard him mention something about a special guest for dinner.”

  A special guest? Who could that be?

  Instead of waiting around to see if Rían was lying, I laced my arm through his. Together we descended the stairs and walked through the hallway, past the great room where Tadhg had held court, and into a large dining room set with six place settings. A moment later, Tadhg and two short men with wiry red beards, dressed head to toe in tweed, entered through an adjoining door, deep in discussion. When Tadhg’s eyes met mine, his footsteps faltered.

  A heated blush crept up my neck as his gaze slowly moved from my unbound hair to the low sweetheart neckline on the dress, down the curves of my hips, all the way to the silver slippers on my feet. Fire collected in my belly, and my legs began to tremble.

  Then his gaze landed on Rían’s hand at my elbow and his expression darkened. “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” he said to the men, who continued on to their chairs. Tadhg walked stiffly toward us, his hands flexing at his sides.

  Rían grinned when Tadhg unhooked his hand from my arm and laced our fingers together. Instead of bringing me to the table, he tugged me to a secluded corner beside a pair of glass doors overlooking the garden.

  I could smell his magic, like he couldn’t contain it, and inhaled through my nose and mouth. I wanted to kiss him so badly, I thought I’d die from wanting—

  Tadhg dropped my hand and stepped away like I’d been about to slap him.

  “Where did you get that dress?” he snapped in a harsh whisper, pupils blown wide.

  My dress? I couldn’t even remember what I was wearing. Oh, right. Blue silk. “Rían gave it to me.”

  He blanched, but quickly schooled his features into a blank mask. “You are free to do as you please, of course. But I would appreciate it if you did not flaunt your relationship with my brother so blatantly in my face.”

  He thought I was flaunting my relationship? Rían and I didn’t have a relationship. I barely knew the man—and what I did know, I certainly didn’t like. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

  Tadhg turned on his heel and went to greet a stunning woman with short black hair and a beautiful, dark complexion waiting in the entrance.

  A special guest.

  The woman wore a dress made of tanned fur that hugged her shapely figure like a second skin. My stomach sank as she collected Tadhg in an enthusiastic embrace.

  A grogoch rang the dinner bell, and Tadhg settled into the chair at the head of the table, the two old men to his right, and the woman to his left. Rían sat beside her, leaving me at the end. No one bothered to introduce me, and apart from a few curious glances from the old men, everyone pretended I wasn’t there.

  Tadhg flicked his wrist, and our food magically appeared, cooked to perfection. A steaming turkey, skin crispy and brown, stuffed with fragrant sprigs of rosemary and sage, accompanied by roast potatoes and honey glazed carrots and parsnips.

  I waited until everyone had served themselves to get my own. I ate and drank without joining in their conversation, spiraling deeper and deeper into my own mind.

  Aveen had Rían.

  When she awoke, she wouldn’t need me.

  What reason had I to stay?

  Whatever misplaced love Tadhg may have felt for me had evaporated the moment he found out about Rían. Could I really remain in his castle and watch him fawn over women and pretend it didn’t crush my heart?

  What other choice did I have?

  With the Black Forest cutting Tearmann off from the rest of Airren, there was no way to return to my world without having Tadgh or another immortal accompany me and offer his life as a sacrifice for my own.

  I was trapped.

  I stole a look at Tadhg where he smiled and laughed with the woman in the fur.

  I do. I love you.

  Rían wasn’t the only liar in this dining room.

  The moment my stomach felt full, I excused myself from the table. Rían tossed his serviette beside his empty plate and followed me out the door like a lost puppy. Tadhg was too busy fawning over his special guest to notice.

  “Go back in,” I told Rían when we reached the stairs. “I can find my own way back.” My room was two stories up, the third door on the left.

  “I’d rather not,” he said, taking the steps two at a time. When we reached my door, he left me with a bow and returned to the staircase. Instead of going down, he continued upward. Was his own room upstairs, or was he going to visit Aveen?

  Too tired to change but too agitated to sleep, I curled onto the window seat and stared into the dark garden. A sliver of moon highlighted the high boxwood hedges and manicured laurels creating a maze around a central fountain.

  A tall figure emerged from the castle and made his way toward the maze’s entrance. I held my breath, waiting for the woman from dinner to follow Tadhg, but there was no one else. From this vantage point, I watched him navigate to the center and drop onto the edge of the fountain.

  I thought back to what he’d said before dinner, about flaunting my relationship with his brother in front of him. I’d spent more time with Tadhg in the last few weeks than I had with Rían for the entire four months we were married.

  But how was Tadhg supposed to know any of that?

  He didn’t know I hadn’t loved Edward. Could he possibly think I would want to be with Rían instead? That sounded as appealing as a hole in the head.

  I could be wrong, but if I was right . . .

  I ran to the door, wrenched it aside, and hurtled down the stairs. No one was in the entry hall, and the dining room was blessedly empty. A cool breeze twisted through the open glass doors as I escaped into the garden.

  The hedges were too high to see over and too thick to see through. I followed the gravel path, not knowing which way to go when it split into two. Right or left? I tried to picture it in my mind, but my view from the bedroom had been from a different angle. Right. I could feel the small stones crunching beneath my thin slippers as I rounded the corner and came to another split.

  Whoever had invented the maze deserved to be run through. I took another right, but it led to a dead end, and when I got back to the break, I couldn’t remember which way I’d come and which way I wanted to go and I was exhausted and my heart hurt and I just wanted, “Tadhg!”

  There was a crunch behind me. “What is it? Is something wrong?” Warm hands settled on my upper arms and spun me to face him.

  “Yes, something is terribly wrong,” I said, tugging on his black waistcoat, drawing his warmth to me.

  “Tell me. Was it Rían? I swear, if he did anything to harm you, I’ll run him through and lock his corpse in an iron casket for all of eternity.”

  Tadhg was jealous. I almost smiled but managed to keep a straight face when I told him, “I haven’t seen Rían since dinner. In all honesty, I’d be happy never seeing him again.”

  He pulled away to look down at me, searching my face, his brow becoming more furrowed.
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br />   “Nothing happened, Tadhg. Between your brother and me, I mean.” I could almost feel his relief as some of the tension in his body uncoiled. “Yes, I kissed him to make Robert jealous, but we didn’t have a real marriage. He was barely around, and when he was around, we didn’t see each other. And he insisted on sleeping in his own chambers.”

  “The two of you didn’t . . . ?”

  My hair tickled my back when I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not.”

  The smile on his face was short-lived. He let me go and stepped back, like he wanted to sink into the night and hide. “You may not care for him, but that doesn’t mean you care for me.”

  “That’s just it. I do care for you.” Even now, knowing he was here and safe, the memory of that dagger stealing his life still haunted me. “When the Queen killed you, I couldn’t stop crying. It was like she’d stabbed me in the heart as well.”

  “You cried? Over me?” He looked so confused, I wanted to kiss away the wrinkles on his brow. “But you knew I’d be back.”

  I collected his hand and touched the spot where our marriage bond had been. “But you wouldn’t be my husband.”

  Clutching my fingers in his, he lifted my chin with his free hand. “Are you saying you wanted to stay married?” Starlight reflected in his hopeful green eyes.

  “Yes.”

  He toyed with the emerald ring, and his face fell. “I know you’re lying. You saw the curse and now you pity me. That’s what this is, right?” He began pacing back and forth, boots crunching in the gravel. “You think I’m some sort of charity case? Well, I’m not, you know. I may want to be free, but I’ll not accept your life as payment for my sins. It was wrong to have asked you to keep our vows in the first place.”

  How could I make him see that I was telling the truth? That it wasn’t pity I felt but respect. That in saving him, I was also saving myself.

  I dragged the ring from my finger and dropped it into the gravel between us. Tadhg stopped his pacing, his gaze falling to the green stone, then rising to meet mine.

  “I want to be bound to you,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you mean, why?”

  “Why would someone like you want to be with something like me?” he asked, his voice desperate as he raked his fingers through his hair, dragging on the ends. “Is it all of this?” He waved toward the castle. “Is this what you’re after? Because it sure as hell isn’t my winning personality or impeccable style or flawless manners.”

  Why did I want to be with Tadhg?

  I thought of the night I’d listed what I liked about Robert and had struggled to find more than two things. For Tadhg, I had the opposite problem. There were so many reasons, I didn’t know where to start.

  “I want to be with you because you make me laugh.”

  His mouth opened, then closed. “I make you laugh?”

  “Yes. Even when I know I shouldn’t,” I added, stepping closer. “You left food for Padraig and gave an apple to the boy in the market. And you saved that grogoch in Kinnock. You stole a pig and kidnapped those children.” Another step. “You have taken care of me and kept me safe even when I was rude and condescending and horrible.” Another step.

  I was close enough to feel the heat from his skin. To touch his stubbled cheek. Tadhg’s throat bobbed when he swallowed, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Depthless green eyes swirled with shadows.

  I slid my hands up his torso, and he made a strangled sound when I pressed a kiss to his pounding heart. “Today, you died for me.”

  His hands slipped around my waist, drawing me closer, molding our bodies together.

  “So the real question isn’t why someone like me would want to be with someone like you,” I whispered against his jaw, the taste of candied almonds tickling my tongue. “It’s whether or not someone like you would want to be with someone like me.”

  Tadhg’s chest rose and fell as he took ragged breaths. His forehead came to rest against mine, and he said, “There will never be a time or place when I won’t want to be with you.”

  It meant the world knowing he could only say those words because they were true.

  I leaned forward and—

  Tadhg vanished.

  Then he was kneeling beside me, collecting something from the stones. The ring. How could I have forgotten the ring? If I’d kissed him without it, I’d be dead.

  “Since I’m already down here,” he said, smiling up at me with the emerald pinched between his fingers, “I may as well ask you to marry me.”

  32

  Marry me.

  “Don’t feel like you have to say yes,” Tadhg rushed, shooting to his feet and taking my hand. “It’s just that it’ll be impossible to make you fall madly in love with me if I’m forced to go off with every woman who invites me to her bed.”

  Marry me.

  He was leaving it up to me. This was my choice.

  And I wanted to marry the enemy who had become my friend. My friend who had become my lover. My lover who could be so much more.

  Still, he’d had so many women falling at his feet, I couldn’t make it too easy on him.

  “Is that the best you can do? ‘I may as well ask you to marry me,’” I teased, bracing my hand against my hip. I’d been married twice now and had yet to receive a proper proposal.

  Frowning down at the ring, he chuckled and said, “No. I can do better.” His grip on my hand tightened, and he dragged me deeper into the maze. The sound of trickling water grew louder as we ran hand-in-hand toward the central fountain. And then he stopped.

  “Wait here,” he said with a cheeky grin that made my stomach drop.

  It was impossible not to smile back at him as he backed toward the corner, keeping his eyes on me like I was the one who could vanish. When he ducked around the hedge, I waited in the still night air, a bundle of fluttering nerves and excitement.

  A few moments later, he returned, laced our fingers together, and brought me into the center of the maze. White light twinkled from the hedges like Tadhg had stolen the stars from the sky and brought them here for me.

  He flicked his wrist, and a bouquet of colorful hydrangeas appeared in my hands, wrapped with lace.

  “Lady Keelynn Bannon,” he said, going down on one knee, “I’d given up hope of ever finding someone I loved. And then you waltzed into a pub and threatened to kill me.”

  The flowers in my hand began to tremble. Was this really happening? This was really happening.

  “I am wrecked by you,” he said, “completely undone. I would trade my soul for a smile. My kingdom for a kiss. My world to call you my wife. Will you give me the honor of a second chance to be your husband?”

  He extended his hand. In his palm was a length of silver ribbon.

  The wisp of a memory from when we’d first wed came flying back. “You want to get married now?”

  A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with now?”

  When I was small and imagined myself marrying a prince, I had wanted fanfare and white dresses and loads of people gathered to watch me walk down an aisle laden with flowers and candles to exchange vows with the man I loved.

  But for some reason, the idea of marrying Tadhg in his silent castle gardens with only the stars for witnesses sounded like a dream come true.

  “Nothing is wrong with now. Now is perfect.” With my heart battering my breastbone, I stretched my hand toward him. He stood and clasped my fingers, wrapping the ribbon over and around until only the ends dangled between us.

  “To you I pledge my body and soul.” Tadhg’s lilting accent caressed the night as he slipped the emerald ring onto my finger. “All that I am and all that I have is yours. I bind myself to you and you alone, forsaking all others. In giving you my hands, I give you my life, to have and to cherish until death do us part.”

  I repeated the vows in a steady voice, pledging myself to this cursed prince. Before the final word left my lips, Tadhg’s cold mouth crashed against mine. H
is unbound hand slipped into my hair, drawing me closer and closer as his tongue devastated my senses, tasting of magic and madness.

  The bouquet tumbled to the ground, and I caught his neck with my free hand, pulling until our bodies melted together. Shaking free of our binding, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the biggest bed I had ever seen, with a heavy green canopy and white silk sheets, planted right in the middle of the garden.

  Tadhg kissed me again, more insistent, every flick of his tongue a silent promise of what was to come. “What would you say to a wedding night, Maiden Death?” he whispered.

  I caught his lower lip between my teeth, and he moaned into my mouth.

  “I’m taking that as a yes.”

  My back met the mattress, and my husband dropped forward, bracing his weight on one elbow, his hard chest pressing me into the soft sheets.

  My husband.

  This felt different than before. Special. Sacred.

  I could feel him swelling, straining against his breeches, grinding against my center in a tantalizing rhythm, leaving me clawing at his shirt, desperate for release.

  His hips shifted to just the right angle, and I cried, “Hurry.” I needed him more than I needed air in my lungs.

  And then he stilled, drew away, and stared down at me as if I’d told him to stop. Didn’t he know the meaning of hurry?

  “My dear mortal wife,” he said, his face a mix of shadows and moonlight, “if you think I am going to rush this, you must be mad. Although, you did marry me of your own free will, so perhaps you are.”

  I was mad.

  Mad with desire and need and wanting him.

  I reached for the buckle on his belt, and he smacked my hand away.

  “Don’t make me stab you,” I hissed, sounding like a broken woman.

  The wicked glint in Tadhg’s eye grew with his mischievous smile, and he held up one finger. He slipped that one finger along the side of my foot to my heel and proceeded to drag it up my calf, over the back of my knee, to the underside of my thigh, hooking it into the top of my stocking and dragging it down down down.