Page 27 of Of Curses and Beauty

Daric’s usually deep voice cried out from darkness. His frantic shouts set alarm bells pealing in her head.

Her first thought was that the witch had come to torture him in some new and terrible fashion.

She would not stand idly by while he was so obviously in distress. Shoving decorum aside, she hurled herself through the doorway.

A small beam of moonlight barely illuminated the space and it took longer than she would have liked for her eyes to adapt to the dim light. She moved as fast as she dared, keeping her arms outstretched as the intoxicating scent of him surrounded her, guiding her forward.

Daric’s labored breaths called to her from the opposite end of the room.

She worried she was too late.

She worried the witch had come for him.

Hurt him.

Or worse.

She quickened her feet, pushing aside the nagging feeling that it could be a trap. If the witch had wanted her for any reason, she could have taken her whenever she pleased. But if she only wanted to cause her pain, then hurting Daric was the fastest way to get to her.

Her vision adjusted and she was stunned to find the room largely empty save for a grand, four-poster bed. The witch wasn’t here—not that she could see. A large form shifted beneath the covers and the realization of what she was doing washed over her. She’d barged into his private chamber while he slept. There was no cause for alarm, no threat. She bit her lip wondering if she’d misjudged the situation.

Deciding to leave before she woke him, she backpedaled away from the enormous bed. A floorboard creaked beneath her foot and she froze as Daric whimpered, the sound so broken she wondered if he was hurt after all.

Then he began murmuring. Faintly at first, but steadily growing louder with each repetition of the same word over and over again. “No.”

“No. No. No. No. NO. NO.NO!”

She was at his side in an instant, his words becoming one unending roar as he battled an invisible foe. His fists swung wildly and she dodged flailing limbs in a futile effort to sooth him. She switched tactics, shouting his name, but his cries drowned out her own.

At a loss, she could only watch helplessly as he raged, her own heart breaking at the fear in his voice, the pain etched into his features.

Eventually, his bellows turned to sobs and the fight left his limbs. She approached the bed with trepidation, concerned for her own safety as much as for Daric.

Curled on one side, he looked for all the world like some forlorn child. His hair was mussed and a deep line remained etched between his brows. She wiped away the tears staining his cheeks with soft, soothing strokes.

He roused at her touch. Eyes cracking open, he blinked up at her around swollen lids.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispered.

Alaine shook her head. “Not anymore.”

He sat up suddenly, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. Rather than pull away as she usually would, she leaned in, drawn to the honest vulnerability in his expression. He seemed to take in her presence in his room with a mixture of disbelief and awe. In the charged space between them, it felt as though lightning could strike at any moment.

The silence stretched on as she gazed at him. She wished she could know the thoughts in his head, wished she could read them on his skin as clearly as she could the pages of a book. They had learned so much about each other in her time here and still she craved more. She wanted to know him as one only could after spending a lifetime together. The idea both thrilled and terrified her, but it was Daric’s quick glance to her lips that had her finally pulling back.

As they separated, the tension in the room ebbed. Alaine exhaled a shaky breath and crossed her arms, tucking her trembling hands out of view.

This wasn’t how she’d intended the evening to go.

“I wanted to see if you were alright,” Alaine muttered. She glanced away, no longer able to hold his gaze in light of her admission. “You were crying out in your sleep,” she finished sheepishly.

“Thank you,” he replied. “Unfortunately, I find I am plagued by frequent nightmares. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I was just about to get some tea when I heard you. Would you care for some?”

“No, thank you.”

Alaine wondered if his formality was meant as a polite dismissal or if it was merely a lingering habit from his days as a royal.

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