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Fordham sank into the seat next to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. “You don’t have to go back.”
“I don’t know if I have another choice,” she gasped. “Once a Dragon Blessed has been chosen, that’s that. I don’t think I can say no.”
“Since when have you ever taken anything at face value?”
She hiccuped around a laugh. “Never.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
Their eyes locked. Where she had seen nothing only moments earlier, deep emotions swirled through his irises. It startled her. So frequently, he just shut down, as if not showing emotions was a defense mechanism. Something trained into him.
“Ford,” she whispered hesitantly.
His hand moved from her chin and back into her hair. “What have you done to me?”
“What have I done?” she asked back.
“You have bewitched me so.”
And she was lost to him.
His lips lowered to hers, and time froze. He tasted like honey and liquor and oranges. His lips were soft and supple and oh-so inviting. His tongue grazed across her bottom lip, and she shivered, opening her mouth to him. He swept in, brushing their tongues together. A soft groan escaped her at that first touch.
Her hands reached for the elaborate jacket, knotting into the material. He reacted by drawing them closer, his hands roamed down her side, to her hip, and then against the middle of her back until their bodies were flush. Still, they weren’t close enough. She slid forward until she was seated into his lap.
She couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even care. This was bliss. This was precisely where she wanted to be. Her hands slipped under the jacket and found the strong contours of his back. Everything felt urgent and necessary and needy. She had no desire to stop this. Didn’t think that it was possible to stop this. It was a runaway cart, barreling down a hill. Only a force of will or the gods could impede its descent.
She hadn’t had a sip of faerie punch, but her skin felt hot, her breaths came out as gasps, and every brush of his lips against her sent fire coursing through her. She forgot their mission, the real reason for them being here. She just got lost in Fordham Ollivier.
Then, he was standing, and she tumbled off his lap, nearly landing on the ground.
An, “Oof,” escaped her as she tried to right herself. What the gods?
Fordham walked away from her across the gazebo, his hand fisted in his hair. Kerrigan came swiftly back to her feet. Her heart still thudded a quick staccato from their intimate kiss, but now, he was gone… and she had no idea what had just happened.
“Ford?” she whispered, a faint, delicate thing that betrayed her hurt.
“I can’t do this, Kerrigan.”
She swallowed and took a step backward. “Right. Of course not,” she bit out.
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I think I do.” Mounting anger lashed at her. “It’s because I’m half-Fae, isn’t it?”
He turned back to face her. “It’s not that.”
She laughed without mirth. “Real convincing, princeling.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? You kissed me first. And even if you hadn’t, this was building. You can’t deny it.”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a breath. “I wanted to, but I can’t.” He shook his head in distress. “I’m cursed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Convenient thing to have never mentioned.”
“I did mention it to you,” he said. “When we first met, I told you that I was cursed.”
“That was a joke!”
“It wasn’t. I actually am cursed.”
Kerrigan tilted her head in confusion. “What does that even mean? An actual curse?”
“Yes. There is dark magic in the House of Shadows. One of my father’s enemies sent a woman to my crib after I was born and cursed me. She said I was cursed to wander perpetually and to hurt all those I care for.”
“You’re serious.”
He nodded and looked away again. “So, I have never cared for anyone. But I cannot deny how I feel for you, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.”
“To live is to take that chance.”
“It’s not a chance,” he insisted. “It is a necessity. I will hurt you. It’s a promise.”
She shivered at his words. It sounded like a promise. It rang with truth. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when this felt so right. They were so similar in so many ways. He just didn’t know the whole of it. If he was going to give her his biggest secret, then she would confess hers.
“You are not the only one who is cursed.”
He blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I am also cursed… with visions.”
“Visions?” Fordham asked.
“I can… sort of see the future. It’s not exactly clear, usually just flashes of images that don’t even make sense until it happens. It started five years ago. I saw Cyrene’s world in jeopardy. Then a year ago, it happened again. I saw that Laments church at the Square—you remember it?”
