Shadow Cursed (Shadow Falls Series Book 2)

by Lizzy Prince

  Silas pulls back enough for me to look at him. His brow crinkled in concern. “I didn’t even think… I was so concerned about the curse.” He expels a breath, his head tipped back, leaving his neck invitingly exposed to me. I cut him off from any further rambling by nipping at the raspy skin there, pulling an approving growl from his throat.

  “I’m not upset, Silas. Just really surprised is all.”

  His hand palms the back of my head, tangling in my hair and gently tugging my head back so I can look him in the eyes. My pulse hammers in my chest from the intensity of his gaze. I’ve never had anyone look at me with so much… everything. It’s hope, lust, happiness, concern, fear, need, all rolled up in one stunning mossy green package. I run my hand up and down Silas’s forearm, the one connected to the hand fisted in my hair. Both because I need to touch him and because I sense his discomfort.

  “I’ve fucked this up. So much. I don’t want to keep hurting you or lobbing these huge surprises at you.”

  I can’t move because of how tightly he has my head in his grip, well, I probably could, and he’d instantly let me go. But I don’t want that. I love the possessiveness in his hold. Instead, I grip his arm tighter, squeezing the muscle in my attempt to soothe him.

  “Sometimes taking the long way around makes the destination that much better.”

  Silas snorts, and I smack his arm. “Hey, I was trying to make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, Toots. You always make me feel better.”

  “Even when I’m yelling at you?” It’s my turn to snort, but he just smirks at me.

  “That’s just foreplay.”

  “Oh, good lord. I’m going to take a shower,” I say with exasperation, but I can’t help but laugh too.

  Silas flops back on the bed, looking so incredible in all his masculine glory that I almost tumble back onto the sheets. He’s a golden god, all tanned skin and perfectly sculpted muscles. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like he does, his freshly cut hair, a sandy blond glinting with hints of sunlight in it. He needs to shave, but I think that’s his permanent state, and it works for him. Silas stretches out, tucking an arm under his head and cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I blow out a breath and somehow manage to keep from fanning myself. “Right. Shower. Then food. Then we need a plan.” I nod as if he’s asked me to list off our agenda for the day. The cocky look disappears from Silas’s face. “Go get cleaned up. Then I’ll get you fed.”

  I’m tempted to tell him to tell him to come shower with me, but reconsider when I realize we will never leave the room if I do. Next time.

  There’s an old-fashioned diner right next door to our hotel, and once we’re both showered and ready, we walk over. Thankfully I brought some clothes with me, not to mention my toothbrush, because I hadn't been sure how long we’d be gone on our road trip. Silas’s super vague description of our trip didn’t give me much to work with.

  Like a gentleman, he holds the door open for me, ushering me inside with his hand on my back. His fingers are tucked up beneath my shirt so he can touch my bare skin. The heat from that small contact is enough to keep me warm. The diner has black and white checkered floors and sparkly red vinyl booths and chairs. Each booth has its own mini-jukebox, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the waitress popped up in a poodle skirt. Turns out, she’s wearing her own clothing, just jeans a t-shirt, but there’s definitely a theme to the place.

  Once we’re settled in a booth and get the ordering out of the way, I sigh. “I guess we need to talk about the serious stuff now.”

  Silas leans back against the corner of the booth, one arm stretched out along the back of the seat. His eyes scan the room as if searching for threats, despite the relaxed appearance of his body. Once he determines nothing is going to jump out and attack us, his focus lands back on me.

  “Are you sure that Vic is the person who cursed you?” I rest my elbows on the table, cradling my face in my hands as I look at him.

  The waitress returns, setting down a cup of coffee in front of me and chocolate milkshake in front of Silas. Her gaze lingers a little bit too long, and I tip my head, grinning at Silas while the woman tries to get his attention. But Silas just stares at me, aware of the other woman’s attempts to get a look from him but unwilling to do more than murmur a thank you.

  With a huff, the waitress slinks off, and I almost feel a little bad for her. Silas is jaw-droppingly hot, and I don’t know how anyone, man or woman, couldn’t be at least a little in awe of him. Still, I wasn’t lying to him when I said I’d let my crazy out if some woman got too close to him. As it turns out, I’m actually not worried about it at all. The way he’s looking at me, the way his mark pulses along my neck and shoulder in a constant reminder of our connection, is all I need to know that there is no one else in the world that he would rather be with.

  As if Silas knows exactly what conclusion I’ve just reached, he smiles at me, looking way too smug as he leans over and takes a long pull on the straw in his milkshake. It’s not even worth pretending I’m anything but completely freaking turned on, and I push up from my seat, leaning as far across the table as I can reach, and press a kiss to his cold lips.

  “Mmm,” I murmur, licking off a trace of ice cream. His eyes glint with an animalistic desire I’m beginning to realize is his wolf rising to the surface.

  “You are playing with fire. I thought we were going to have a grown-up conversation. Now all I can think about is hauling your ass into the bathroom and fucking you up against the door so hard the entire diner will get off from your pleasure,” Silas growls, barely loud enough for me to hear, but loud enough that our waitress does as she stops at our table to check on us.

  Her gasp of surprise and fumbling retreat have me pressing my lips together as I try not to laugh, but Silas doesn’t fair as well, and he releases a deep, rumbling chuckle.

  “I don’t know if you’ve just scarred her or given her visuals that no man will ever be able to top.”

  Silas laughs again and takes another drink of his shake. The lightness dissipates as we look at one another, knowing we have to talk about serious things.

  “I’m pretty sure Vic was the one who had that witch curse me. Of course, I can’t know with total certainty until he admits to it. That, or I get Corbin to talk about who hired him, but I’m not counting on that,” Silas says, scrubbing a hand over his face, scratching his beard before returning his hand to rest on the back of the bench.

  “Who is this Corbin guy? Why would he help Vic curse you? And why would Vic even want to curse you?”

  “Corbin Macek is an angel.” I’m mid sip when Silas responds, coughing as I choke on my coffee.

  “An angel?” I hiss back at him once I can breathe without hacking up a lung, darting an eye around the diner to make sure no one can hear us. Not that it really matters because they’ll just think we’re crazy people.

  “How have you lived in Shadow Falls for the past two years and never figured out anything about all the supernaturals there?” There’s only good-natured teasing behind the comment, but I still glare at him.

  “Hey, this is not a conversation about my obliviousness.” I sit back as our waitress drops off our food. Pancakes for me, since I’m still in breakfast mode, even though we lounged in bed far too long for it to still be morning. I feel like I can’t just skip a whole meal group and jump from breakfast to lunch. I like order in my life, no matter how nonsensical it is. Silas, on the other hand, has a huge burger and fries with a side of eggs and bacon. He said he agreed with me on not skipping breakfast when we ordered and then said it would be wrong to miss lunch too. Personally, I’m not sure eggs and bacon go very well with a chocolate milkshake, but I’m not the one who has to eat it.

  “Wait, can I get a big glass of milk?” Silas calls out to our waitress, leaving her nodding with stars in her eyes as she flutters her lashes at him. Okay, I retract my earlier statement. I might have to get salty with her if she doesn’t tone down the obvious ogling. Good l
ord, lady, I know he’s hot, but he’s with another woman. One who you heard him say he wanted to fuck in the bathroom.

  I pluck a fry off Silas’s plate before I dig into my pancakes, and he narrows his eyes at me, though it’s playful. “If I didn’t love you, you could lose a finger for that kind of thievery.”

  I roll my eyes with a smile and then point the fry at him. “Get on with the angel explanation.”

  Silas leans forward and bites the fry out of my hand and then laughingly hands over a replacement from his plate. I swipe it from his fingers and shake my head, waiting for him to explain about Corbin.

  “He’s an angel, but the perception of angels and the reality are two very different things. They’re known as messengers of God, ancient warriors who protect the faithful, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.” Silas takes a huge bite of his burger, leaving me hanging and waiting for an explanation while he chews. I shove a bite of pancake in my mouth so I don’t yell at him. Who knew he was such a tease?

  “Mythology exists for all supernaturals in some way. Werewolves, vampires, demons, angels. We’re all the result of magic from within the earth. Parts of legends that people whisper are true, but like a game of telephone, the stories get twisted and morph into an alternate version of reality. Some supernatural species are also a lot better at PR than others, or they care a lot more. Angels have spent a lot of time and money creating a persona of giving, caring, pious fuckers. And just like any society, there are some who are more powerful than others. There are those that abuse their power and others who use it to protect and generally do the best they can. Corbin is an example of an angel who abuses his power. He’s older than fuck, greedy for power, and has a lot of people under his thumb. Whether they come to him willingly or through his own manipulations, he’s known as someone who trades in favors. He does something for you, you owe him a favor in return. He’s extremely smart and has absolutely no moral compass. He cares for nothing but his own end game.”

  Silas takes a breath before he takes another massive bite of his burger. Giving me time to absorb everything he’s just told me. It’s a lot.

  “And what is Corbin’s end game?”

  Silas shrugs. “I don’t know. Power? To control as many people as he possibly can? I’ve only ever met him once, and he wanted to get into a fucking pissing match over who’d break eye contact first. Fucking pissant.”

  The corner of my mouth lifts, and I have to ask, “Who won?”

  Silas smirks. “He claims we were interrupted, but he looked away first.”

  “Damn right he did,” I murmur, my voice sounding husky even to my own ears. Silas growls low in appreciation of my statement.

  I tamp down the growing fire in my belly. “How does Vic fit into all of this then?”

  “He knew about you. I told him you were my mate. Then after we, ah…”

  I bite at the inside of my lip and raise my eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “Really, this embarrasses you?”

  Silas exhales loudly and looks so sad that I feel bad for joking about what happened. “Too soon?”

  “How can you be so easy about the whole thing? The way I made you feel, the shit I put you through because I couldn’t remember you.” Silas pushes away his plate, looking disgusted at himself.

  “Hey.” I keep my voice calm and hopefully soothing as I slide out of my side of the table and go sit next to him. He moves the leg he has half propped up on the seat to make room for me. I turn to face him, resting a hand on his bicep and another on his thigh. “I’m not trying to be dismissive about any of this or make it seem like it doesn’t matter to me. But I also don’t want you to feel worse about this than you already do. You are just as much a victim in this messed up shit as me. I’m pissed. For you, for me, for the time we lost together, but I’m not going to take it out on you.” I squeeze his thigh as his green eyes search my face. “Okay?”

  In response, Silas wraps an arm around me and tugs me in closer to his side, pressing as much of my body to him as possible in the confined space of the booth. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling like my scent is the only thing keeping him lucid. Gentle lips press a kiss to my temple, and Silas’s warm breath washes over my skin as he speaks.

  “After we slept together and I forgot about you, Vic acted as though he had no idea who you were. He even asked me about the new girl I was chasing after. He’s been my friend, my Beta for over forty years. This is more than a betrayal. He’s stabbed me in the back. A coward’s move.”

  “Why would he even do something like this? What would he get out of having you forget your mate?” I whisper, feeling Silas’s emotions strung tightly like a wire about to snap.

  “The only thing I can think of is that it would make me weak. The longer we were apart, the weaker I’d become. But Vic is not an Alpha. What the hell was he thinking?” Silas says the last bit as though he’s talking to himself.

  “Do you think he wants to take your place? That he wants to be Alpha of your pack?”

  “I think we should get back. I want to talk to Dylan.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Silas

  The ride home goes a lot faster than the ride out to Thea’s house took. Maybe it was the anxiety from not knowing what we’d learn, or maybe it was the worry that I’d lose Bridget once we reached our destination. In retrospect, I think I feared finding out that there was no way to break the curse and that I’d lose Bridget. Even if I hadn’t figured out she was my mate, my wolf knew and had been trying to tell me as much for the past year. If Thea had told me there was no way to break the curse and I was destined to break my mate’s heart over and over again… well, I didn’t want to think about that. It made my wolf and me both angry and irritated as hell.

  Now that the curse is broken, we have a whole new host of problems to deal with. Vic. Fucking Vic. What the hell is going on in his head?

  Bridget’s restless for most the trip home. She keeps falling asleep only to wake up and with a little gasp, blinking her eyes as if lost. I wish I could pull her over onto my lap, but there’s no way I can drive like that. Instead, I thread my fingers through hers, offering my touch as an anchor to combat whatever dreams she’s battling.

  We’re almost back to Shadow Falls when Bridget speaks, surprising me after so much quiet in the car.

  “What’s our plan now?” She’s looking out the window, watching the landscape in the distance before she turns to me. “Will your pack sense that you’ve marked me?”

  I nod, dashing a quick glance at her before looking back at the road. “Yes, they can see the mark if you don’t have it covered up. They’ll also sense you’re pack and connected to the Alpha if you’re close enough. It’s part of the magic of the mate bond.”

  “But regular humans won’t be able to see my mark?” Her fingers brush back and forth over the spot, and a small smile dances on her lips.

  “No, but anyone supernatural will be able to see it.”

  “What does that mean for this whole thing with Vic? What are you going to do about him?”

  “I want to talk to Dylan, but maybe we can have her meet us at your house.” The more I think about that, the more I don’t like that idea. If Vic is with Dylan, if he follows her to Bridget’s house… no, we can meet somewhere else. Killian has all his witch-vamp bullshit going on, and Alarik is essentially having a honeymoon. Dante never has anything important going on, so we can meet at his place.

  I grab my phone and dial him.

  “Wolfie! What’s up?” I sigh, and Bridget chuckles, obviously hearing Dante through the phone.

  “Demon. I need to use your house.”

  “I think you and your girl used my house pretty well the other night,” Dante says with a bit too much glee.

  “Yeah, well, your bed sucks. It’s hard as a rock.”

  “It’s got excellent lumbar support,” Dante chirps.

  “Enough dicking around. We’ve got a situation, and I need some help. I need a spot to meet wit
h one of my Betas.”

  “Front door is open,” is all Dante says, and I grunt before hanging up on him.

  “You guys have an odd friendship,” Bridget says, looking a little pink in the cheeks.

  “He can be a huge prick, but he’s always there when I need him.”

  “Then that’s all that matters,” Bridget says softly, leaning back in the seat and holding off on the rest of her questions, for now.

  Sunlight is reflecting off the wall of windows that makes up the front of Dante’s house. Bridget looks like she doesn’t want to be here, but I think it’s less about being at Dante’s place and more about wanting a shower and clean clothes after being on the road the past day. I called Dylan shortly after I hung up on Dante, telling her I needed her to pick something up at Dante’s for me. She didn’t ask any questions, just like a good Beta.

  Her car is parked in Dante’s driveway when we pull up, and I’m sure Dante’s been keeping her occupied until we arrived. Bridget waits in the car until I come around and open her door. It’s not because she wants me to open her door for it, it’s because she’s staring ahead like she’s in a trance. I rub my hand up and down her arm before giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Toots, we’re here.” My voice breaks her out of her daze, and she looks surprised that I’m standing at her side.

  “Sorry, lost in my thoughts.”

  “Come on. Let’s go figure out what we’re going to do about Vic.” I scoop her out of the car, carrying her with one arm locked around her waist while she squeals and giggles, yelling at me to put her down. It’s become my signature move with her. We’re both laughing by the time we get to the front door. I sneak in a quick kiss before I set her down and open the door.

  Dylan is leaning her hip on Dante’s couch, her arms crossed over her chest and her legs crossed at the ankle. She looks relaxed, and Dante must have just said something funny because she’s laughing. Dante’s splayed out a chair that looks like it was made for the Jetsons. All of his furniture looks like it came from the future, but it is surprisingly comfortable. Dante’s feet are propped up on a shiny acrylic table, and he’s laughing too.