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“I love you,” I murmur against him, repeating the words without a second thought. It feels so natural to say them, and I don’t know when it happened or how he broke down my barriers, but somehow he did.
“I love you too,” he groans as I shove him back and climb on top of him, yanking up my nightgown. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he grits out as I grind against him. “My perfect little moon goddess.”
His fingers trace over the mark above my breast as if he can’t help himself. It’s the piece of destiny that brought us together, the imprint I was given at birth, the supernatural decree stamped into my skin that I was always meant to be his. I wonder again about the other Wildblood women before me. Did any of them ever fall for their husbands? Did they feel even a fraction of what I do right now as I gaze down at mine?
That question drifts away as I fumble to pull down Azrael’s briefs and put him back inside me, where he belongs.
“I need you,” I pant.
“I know,” he growls, helping me by yanking his cock free and hoisting my body straight onto it.
I stifle a sigh of relief as he slides into me from below, and my palms come to rest on his chest, using the strength of his body as I begin to move against him. We come together as we always do, but something about this time feels more frantic.
It’s the thought lurking in my mind, and undoubtedly his own, that question of how much time we have. Can Elizabeth’s curse truly ever be broken?
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I squeeze them shut, willing them away, then I kiss Azrael again and again until we both fall to pieces. He comes with a sigh of agony, his fingers clutching my hips as I collapse onto his chest.
We’re both breathless, neither of us willing to move as his palm settles over my back, stroking me there. And I realize he’s made good on his promise, whether he meant to or not. Because I’m so exhausted, I can barely keep my eyes open. But still, the question lingers in my mind, and I can’t stop myself from asking.
“Why do you think it was us?”
“What?” He peers up at me.
“Why do you think we were the first pairing to fall in love?”
His hand pauses, and the strain in his eyes grabs my attention as I lift my head to examine him.
“Azrael?”
“We weren’t the first,” he says reluctantly.
“What do you mean?”
“There was a record in the book,” he explains. “You probably didn’t see it. But there was another pairing long ago. Solange Wildblood and Louis Delacroix. They fell in love too.”
Something tightens in my chest, and I know I probably shouldn’t ask, but I have to.
“What happened to them?”
“Louis sacrificed her, as was expected of him. But he did so with the request that he would die too, so they could be together in the afterlife.”
A shiver crawls over my skin, and any hope I may have held dispels in an instant.
“How could he do that if he really loved her?”
Azrael’s eyes darken. “It was his family. They insisted upon it.”
He doesn’t have to point out the parallels here. They’re painfully obvious. As I consider it, I think about what Nan said about Elizabeth having a sense of humor. Nothing could be worse for the Delacroix’s than to fall for their enemies. Is that what she wanted all along? One man to fall for a Wildblood and break the curse?
But no, that can’t be. If it were that simple, it would be broken already. Because no matter what anyone else may say, I know in my heart without a shadow of a doubt that Azrael does love me. Any lingering questions I had about that have been laid to rest over the last week. But does it change anything?
He senses my worries and smooths his fingers over the crease between my brows before cupping my chin.
“It will be okay, Willow.”
I can see he wants to believe that, but the truth is, he can’t hide the edge in his voice. The same fear exists in him too.
Neither one of us really knows if it will be okay. We don’t know what will become of us.
20
AZRAEL
I can’t fucking sleep.
Salomé has been settled in a cottage on the property in the staff quarters. Ironically, it’s the room she’d prepared for Willow before her arrival here. Contrary to her accusations, I didn’t take any pleasure in locking my grandmother out of the house. I hated every moment of it. But I have no choice.
With a deep sigh, I sit up. Willow is sleeping soundly. I’m sure between the pregnancy and everything else that’s going on, she’s exhausted, and I can’t expose her to any more stress.
