AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This moment feels important, and the words poised on the tip of my tongue are of how much I love him. My fingers itch to slide over his shoulders and embrace him. I still lack control over my heightened emotions.
After a painfully long moment, the tentative hope glittering in his eyes fades, and his arm slowly lowers.
Saying anything at this point would be an improvement. Are you able to handle this, or must I take over?Varin’s sarcastic tone jostles me into action.
“A truce,” I finally blurt, nearly stumbling to grab his hand. “I-I would like that.”
One corner of his mouth curls. I let go, but his fingers remain curled around mine. His hold is firm yet gentle enough for me to pull away. I don’t. Neither of us does. Not until the moment has stretched out longer than the situation warrants.
“Would you care to dance?” he asks.
“Yes… I would like that.” My voice has gone breathy, but I don’t care because the man I gave my heart to has found a way to reach out through the cracks forming in the curse.
A smirk plays across his lips at my lacking vocabulary. The music is a faster number, meant for switching partners after almost every turn. We don’t acknowledge it, too lost in a world of our own. A spell as delicate as spider silk wound around us from the moment we touched.
Slowly. Very slowly, Alaric moves my hand to his other and steps in until barely more than a breath separates us. His palm alights on my hip, fingers flexing over the curve.
As he begins to lead, I follow. I cannot take my eyes off him. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is. Strong jaw, full mouth, expressive eyes that can are both warm and sharp, framed by thick, black lashes, high cheekbones, and everything I know about him—all the reasons I came to love him—make each of his features more striking, as though his appearance is the physical manifestation of who he is at his core.
“You are a better dancer than I expected,” he says, then cringes, belatedly realizing I could take it as an insult. If it wasn’t for Varin’s shared ability to see better in the dark, I would miss the way Alaric’s cheeks slightly pinken.
“Is my upbringing that obvious?” I say with a light laugh. “It’s all right. I am not ashamed of my less-than-noble upbringing. What skill I possess I owe to my lessons with you.”
His posture stiffens, lips drawn into a thin line, and I worry my comment was insensitive.
“It is a peculiar feeling…” he says, looking off into the distance over my head. He frowns slightly. “This familiarity with you, to know we have history together, while I lack any memories to draw from.”
“The curse took your memories. If I can break it, then perhaps….”
“It is unbreakable.” Though he speaks matter-of-factly, he cannot disguise the crestfallen pain his words cause him.
I refuse to believe that. This man, who has sacrificed his freedom for his sister and me, over and over… I can think of no greater injustice than to sit back and accept his inevitable demise.
“Isn’t that the nature of curses, to be broken?”
“Perhaps some, not this one.”
“There must be a way,” I insist.
We have stopped dancing now, but our bodies remain close.
Alaric shakes his head. “If there is, it is a price no one is willing to pay.”
“I will.” Two simple words, yet it is a heavy vow. “Whatever the price—I will.”
Alaric arches a brow. “If you can manage to pull off the impossible, but my memories never return—what then?” The question is uttered quietly, as if he is afraid to hope.
“Then I will tell you all I can, and so will Cherno… and Lawrence and Della, and even Cassius.” His expression makes my heart ache. “It won’t be everything, but maybe it will be enough.” I curse myself for each word that falls out of my mouth because my attempts to make things better seem to do the opposite.
Alaric doesn’t respond, only continues to lead me. After a few steps, he stops beneath a tree and leans against it, and as he does, his hands remain where they are, bringing me with him so the front of my body is pressed to his.
“Why?” he asks. “Why follow me here? Why fight for me? Why attempt something so hopeless for my sake?” The genuine lack of understanding is stark. Unguarded. Painful.
“No one deserves to be treated like an object to be bartered for another’s gain,” I tell him. “I do it because you deserve to be saved.”
I hadn’t noticed the way we gradually leaned in, pulled by the gravity of each other’s gaze, until now.
“Am I so weak as to need saving?”
