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“All right, now it's time for all you gents to gather on the dance floor,” the DJ said. “Come on, it's a tradition, don't be party poopers.”

Several men came forward, some pushed, but most, mainly the Curses, stepped forward eagerly. Tristan pulled a chair over for me to sit on and knelt before me, careful not to lift my skirt too high when he removed the garter. The men booed the lack of a show as they pushed at each other to get the best spot.

I remained sitting, smiling at Tristan as he turned his back to them and faced me. As he threw the garter, he winked at me. I mouthed the word “cringe,” making him burst into laughter and jerk his arm. His throw went wild, flying away from the gathered men to land in the lap of a man bystander.

Sinclair, the Curse of Lust, the very man whose portrait had fascinated me in the Conclave gallery, had been watching us with a smirk of amusement. When the garter hit his lap, his grin fell slack. He looked down slowly, as if not to startle the thing in his lap, and then flicked the garter away.

Tristan laughed so hard he bent over with it, and everyone else joined in.

“That doesn't count!” Tristan declared as he picked up the garter. “We accept only willing participants.” He returned to his spot and threw it again.

A hand shot up from the crowd of men and caught the garter. I stood up to see who it was. The men pulled back to let him come forward, giving their congratulations. My eyes widened when I saw who it was. I'd met a lot of Curses that night, but he had stood out, and not just because Tristan and I had spoken of him before.

It was @theCurseofHorror himself. I'd been thrilled to get to see his face, and it was a hell of a face—devilishly handsome with a bad boy slant. Horror exuded an ambiance of sexy danger that had nothing to do with his Curse. I knew that because the Conclave had cast a spell on the estate to temporarily block the affect of Curses—unfortunately nothing could permanently block them. But the hope in his eyes as he clutched the garter to his chest softened his wicked looks. What kind of woman could love Horror? I hoped he found her. Or him.

We went to congratulate him.

“Well done, Jason.” Tristan clapped Horror's back.

“Thanks.” Jason stuck the garter in his inner jacket pocket and looked at me. “I heard you accepted Heartbreak. That loving it was the key.”

“I did, and Heartbreak confirmed my love gave him peace.”

“I guess I'm going to have to find a horror buff.” He grinned.

“You got a pretty big fan base to pick from.”

Jason chuckled. “That's fantasy. No one wants to live the fantasy.”

I shrugged. “You have to offer them more than fantasy, I guess.”

“Destiny, Tristan.” Alistair Graves approached, a glass of champagne in hand. “What a night. I can't remember the last time we had this many Curses gathered at the estate.” He frowned. “Probably the last trial.”

Jason snorted a laugh.

“Maybe don't bring up trials tonight,” I said dryly.

“Indeed. I suspect you'll have plenty of Curses asking you questions tonight.” Alistair nodded at Jason. “Try not to let them overwhelm you.”

He was right. Over the next hour, at least a dozen Curses approached us. They were polite, but their curiosity was palpable. We explained our theory over and over, answering questions about what we felt when we met and how I accepted Heartbreak as necessary and then loved it for what it was. The only Curses who didn't approach us with questions about love were the Conclave members and Sinclair.

We split up for a bit, Tristan going to spend time with friends he hadn't seen in longer than I've been alive while I went to check on my mother. My aunt and cousins were dancing with Curses, and I tried not to worry about them. I wanted to warn them, but I couldn't. And maybe I shouldn't. Among them could be a woman willing to love a Curse.

As I joined her, my mother motioned at Seraphel, who was speaking with my father, near the dessert table. “That professor friend of Tristan's is fascinating. Your father has been talking to him about ancient civilizations.”

I bit back a smile. If only she knew how Seraphel had witnessed the rise and fall of those civilizations firsthand. “I'm glad Dad's having fun.”

My mother squeezed my hand. “I'm so proud of you, Destiny. You've built a beautiful life for yourself. And now you have someone to share it with.” Her eyes misted over. “What you said about having good examples of love was so sweet. I'm glad you followed your heart and didn't settle for someone you couldn't love truly.”

“Me too, Mom.” I looked at Tristan, who was smiling brightly as he spoke with his friends.

My mother kissed my cheek and drifted away to join my father, leaving me alone for a moment. I took a breath, letting the reality of the day settle over me. I was married. To a living Curse. I was now an immortal vessel myself, bound to Heartbreak for the rest of eternity. And I had never been happier.

I scowled.

Sinclair was heading toward my cousin Hannah. His gaze had the intensity of a predator focused on a fulfilling meal while Hannah laughed with Sabrina near the bar, oblivious to how close she was to being consumed by Lust. Sinclair approached her with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how attractive he was, or maybe exactly what the Curse in him was capable of. Except tonight, his Curse was hobbled.

Hobbled or not, he was a threat. I started toward them.