Brutal Curse

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Brutal Curse Page 21

by Casey Bond


  “No.”

  “Are the two of us still heartmates?”

  Rule smiled. “Of course. And just so you know, he didn’t sleep with the pretty fae woman. She owed me a personal favor, so I called it in,” he admitted sheepishly. “He slept all night alone, and she slid into bed with him before he woke.”

  “I hate you, Rule.”

  “I can live with that, Arabella.”

  I exhaled a tense breath. “What will happen to us?”

  “That, Bella, is for the two of you to decide.” With that, he walked around the table and took my hand, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. “I wish you a full and happy life, Arabella.”

  I was opening my mouth to thank him when he disappeared, my hand falling limply to my side.

  Loud chatter and music filled the air as the world thawed. No one noticed that Rule and Esmerelda were missing. It was like they were never there, like they didn’t exist.

  But I knew better. Folded in my palm was a piece of parchment.

  “What’s that?” Oryn asked.

  I held tighter to the parchment. “It’s nothing,” I answered, offering a smile.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked again, unconvinced.

  Nodding, I looked at Carden, who was watching me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. I knew in that moment that deep down, somewhere in the depths of his mind, in his marrow, he remembered me. His soul recognized mine.

  I sat beside him and listened as Oryn regaled us with a harrowing tale of how he hunted the elk that morning. I was just happy it was an animal he was hunting. Did Rule fix that, too?

  Oryn reached onto one of the chairs and brandished a tall hat, finely stitched and made of leather. “And then, I found this in the woods. Fits me perfectly.”

  Carden chuckled. “What’s it made of?”

  “Some kind of hide.” Oryn ran his fingers admiringly over the soft leather. “Pig, maybe?”

  Pig, my ass. Esmerelda carved that hat from the flesh of someone who made her mad, and enjoyed every stitch. I just wondered who it was, and how long she’d kept the flesh before making that hat for my brother.

  “Do you ever see fae in the woods?” Carden asked suddenly, aiming the question at my brother. My heart pounded. Did he remember?

  Oryn waved him off. “They’re only a myth. I’ve been hunting long enough that if the beasts existed, I would have seen them. Hell, I’d have their heads plastered on our walls.”

  I pressed my eyes closed, hoping no fae had heard him call them beasts or his threat to mount their heads…

  Carden turned to me. “Do you want to walk outside and get some fresh air? You look a little pale.”

  With a heartfelt smile, I accepted. “I’d love to.”

  He stood and placed his hand on the small of my back, sending a delicious shiver up my spine. I swallowed thickly as he led me through the crowd and out the door.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just sit here alone until Mum arrives…” Oryn yelled.

  Carden and I both laughed as I pushed open the door. The path outside was full of people; so full, we were getting bumped and jostled around.

  “There’s an alleyway just over there,” he suggested.

  We ducked inside, taking cover from the elbows and jeers, and walked toward the window on the side of the tavern, the same one we’d met beneath what felt like a lifetime ago. A trail of ants climbed the wall beside the warbled glass, which allowed just enough warm candlelight to shine out so I could make out a row of scars on either side of Carden’s neck.

  “We can see the table from here. When your mother arrives, we’ll go back inside. If that’s okay, I mean,” he added.

  “That’s perfect.”

  Suddenly shy, Carden looked at the ground and then back at my face. “I swear, I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before.”

  I shook my head, a coy smile playing on my lips. “You haven’t. I would have remembered you.”

  Carden smiled. “I just arrived earlier this month and met Oryn a fortnight ago, so I know it’s not possible. But I can’t help feeling that you’re familiar somehow.”

  “Maybe it’s because Oryn and I favor one another?” I suggested, trying not to laugh.

  “Maybe. I guess you do a little,” he conceded, studying my features.

  Attempting to change the subject, I asked a question I already knew the answer to. “Where did you come from?”

  “The Seven Kingdoms.”

  I swallowed thickly, fighting the tears clogging my throat. “Why did you leave?”

  “Because leaving was easier than staying,” he answered without blinking. “But now I’m certain I made the right decision.”

  “Why is that?”

  A warm smile spread across his face, and I watched as his thick lashes closed and reopened. “Because I’d like nothing more than to get to know you better.”

  I smiled. “I’d like that, too.”

  Beside us in the soil, someone had drawn the head of a lion.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’m blessed to have some very magical people in my life.

  To Elton for encouraging me to be happy in whatever I do in this life.

  To Juliet and Eris, thank you for being so supportive of my dream.

  To my mom, thanks for always helping me with the plots to my stories. And my dad for always listening to my nerdiness.

  Thanks to all my family and friends who care and are there for me in good times and bad.

  To my beta-reader: Cristie Alleman, thank you for helping make the story better.

  Thanks to Stacy Sanford. She always makes my books shine and she’s pretty much like an editing fairy godmother.

  Thanks to Melissa Stevens, who drew the cover, map for the series, and interior illustrations and formatted it for print and e-book. Thank you for bringing the feeling and aesthetic to life!

  Thanks to my amazing reader group, The Bond-tourage, who keep me excited about writing!

  The world is a better place because we can lose ourselves in our imaginations for a little bit. Thanks to every reader who picks this, or any of my books up and gets lost. I appreciate you so much.

  And, most of all, thanks to God for his many blessings in my life.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Casey L. Bond lives in Milton, West Virginia with her husband, where they’re raising two amazing, bright little girls. She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write, letting the voices in her head spill onto the blank page.

  To learn more, visit her at her website.

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