“I’ll help you out of this mess. Help you break your curse.”
She narrowed her eyes, silver fire flickering behind them. “What makes you think I want to break my curse?”
A faint, dangerous smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I traced them with my tongue, resisting the urge to run a finger along her jaw. “Are you not tired yet, Tempest?”
It was a question I’d asked before, and she had always refused to answer it.
But shelookedtired. Exhausted. Undeniably. The dark circles beneath her eyes and the sharpness of her bones made it impossible to ignore. Tragedy and fear would do that to a person.
“There’s always a catch,” she agonized, her voice laced with the kind of quiet defeat I’d long imagined, but hearing it now…
It scraped against the edges of my resolve, threatening to shatter the façade I’d spent seventy-nine years building. Every sharp retort, every venom-laced word, every sorrow-wrung breath would be gone if I gave in to the enchanting creature before me.
It was maddening to think that everything I’d worked for could unravel with a single look.
“In payment, you’ll give me your soul,” I answered, tone absolute. It left no room for bargains or any desperate pleas. I’d chased her through decades, and I would be damned if I didn’t have her soul.
She didn’t sputter, or even flinch. No, her response was sharp and quick. Her wit was unbroken, even now. Astoria thrust her hand forward, sealing her fate between us in a finality that could not be undone. “Fine, Grim. You win.”
And there it was.
Words I had dreamt of for years, the ones paraded through countless fantasies. They slipped from her lips, soothing the fragments of me that had been tattered and torn by time.
“One cursed soul,” she spat, eyes brimming red. “Just get me out of here.”
Her surrender hung suspended in the stale air between us. The deal was made, but I could feel the fear coursing through her, licking at her bones, making her fingers twitch at the hem of her sweatshirt. A bead of sweat pooled on her brow, betraying the mask of defiance she stubbornly wore.
I told myself I didn’t care. That this was the victory I had long salivated for. That it was hard-won, but…
Why did it taste like ash in my mouth?
The reason could be found in the way her eyes lost their glint of silver, dulling to a boring and less alluring green. It almost caused me pain, but I had a job to do. One that had a chorus of souls lamenting in the back of my mind, tearing at the hollows of it until I was nothing but my duty.
I took her hand, clasping her wrist with my fingers as we shook on the deal. One soul for one broken curse. A curse I’d been leading her to break for years. It was about time things were set straight once again. I was as exhausted as she looked, and nothing would stop me from finding rest. Our deal burned between us, the remnants of it lingering in the space where our skin touched, the blood pumping beneath hers—alive, but tethered.
“Close your eyes, Astoria.” She did, without hesitation, and I let the magic flow between us, weaving the disguise she’d need for the journey ahead. The trace amounts of magic in this world had limits. Could I have walked us through the door to a new destination with nothing but a snap of my fingers? Of course. Except that wasn’t nearly as satisfying.
Rearranging her identity was effortless, and with one subtle change, I aged us both. At one hundred and forty-six, Astoria finally appeared every bit the proper old lady, even though she still wore her light-washed jeans with ripped knees, a purple hoodie, and Converse. It made me chuckle under my breath. She was adorable, in a way she didn’t even realize.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice light with amusement. “Turn around and open your eyes.”
Once she opened her eyes, her hands shot to her mouth, covering the reaction I knew I would commit to memory for as long as I existed. The moment Astoria Devlin Tempest had, at long last,aged.Her gaze flickered between emotions too fast for me to catch, before her eyes met mine in the mirror. Then, they moved over my form.
We were about the same age now, early seventies, though I hadn’t changed much, still wearing the same jeans, cream sweater, and dark leather boots I’d put on this morning. My dark hair was now a silvery gray, swept back behind my ears, and my face carried the faintest stubble. She took it all in, the shift in our appearances, before I caught sight of a tear slipping down her withered cheek.
Astoria was still beautiful.Mesmerizing. Her fiery red curls had softened to an illuminating white, but her cheeks still flushed a gentle pink under my gaze. She'd been robbed of the aging she deserved, as she watched those she loved grow old and die, living a thousand lifetimes in between. Seventy years was nothing when compared to her true age, but she'd never had the privilege of seeing her skin wrinkle, of letting time catch up.
Now, lines crept in from the number of smiles she'd shared, and the color had drained from her hair as she collected wisdom in the form of silver threads; shimmering spider webs framing her gentle face.
The shock faded as she started rubbing at the wrinkles on her cheeks, tears falling with the beauty of stars. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out, my hands resting on her shoulders, offering a soft, wordless squeeze.
Words caught in my throat, because what could I offer? There was nothing I could do to ease the weight of what she’d been through. Astoria deserved to see what time had stolen from her. Selfishly, I wondered why I hadn’t shown her this before. If I had, would she have sought the cure to her disease earlier?
It wasn’t my intention to cause her harm or distress, though something strange pricked at me when her tears fell. But the truth was,this was inevitable.Aging was a privilege Astoria had never been allowed, and I was bound and determined to restore it to her.
For her.
Bitterly, for me.
