Page 61 of The Curse Between Us

As Edric’s movements quickened, Zephyr’s body responded, his hips bucking involuntarily. “Edric,” he gasped, his voice raw, “I’m so close.”

Edric’s eyes darkened, and he urged, “Look at me.”

Zephyr opened his eyes, locking them with Edric’s. The speed of Edric’s movements increased, each stroke a promise of release, and Zephyr’s mind went blank.

“I wish I could take you in my mouth,” Edric murmured, and that was all it took. Zephyr’s breath caught in his throat as pleasure coiled tight within him, and then it was gone—spilling over in a rush as he came, hot and fast, over Edric’s gloved hand. The sensation of release was overwhelming, his entire body trembling with the aftershocks.

Edric smirked, pleased with the result, and Zephyr felt an ache deep in his chest—a need to kiss that self-satisfied smirk away. But instead, he gestured to Edric’s hands, the gloved fingers still slick with Zephyr’s release.

Edric understood immediately, and with a low chuckle, he stripped the gloves from his hands, revealing his own erection. Zephyr wasted no time in pulling the gloves on himself, despite the lingering evidence of their previous encounter still clinging to the fabric. He looked down at the dark stains on the black silk, but Edric caught his gaze and spoke, his voice husky with desire, “Please.”

Zephyr smiled softly, reaching down to trace one gloved finger along Edric’s length. The silk felt impossibly smooth, the sensation sending shudders through Edric’s body as Zephyr wrapped his hand around him, the mixture of their release and the smooth fabric turning each stroke into a slow, steady glide. Edric’s eyes fluttered shut, his breathing ragged, as he finally succumbed to the same pleasure that had overtaken Zephyr. With a groan, Edric came, his release joining Zephyr’s on the black silk.

Zephyr waited for him to catch his breath before pulling the gloves off, a playful thought flitting through his mind. “I’ll have to ask the tailors to make more of these,” he said with a smile, glancing down at Edric, who was now stretched out on the floor, a look of satisfaction painted across his face. “Perhaps in other colours,” Zephyr mused aloud. “Red, maybe. Sapphire blue as well.”

“Yes,” Edric agreed, his voice full of satisfaction. “Please do. But for now—” He gestured toward the bed, and Zephyr nodded.

They changed into their night robes, the fur-lined warmth a welcome contrast to the chill in the air, before sliding into bed together. Edric yawned, his hand covering his mouthtoo late, and Zephyr’s heart swelled with affection. He stopped himself from leaning in for a kiss, though the urge was strong.

“Goodnight, Zephyr,” Edric murmured, his eyes already slipping shut.

“Goodnight, Edric,” Zephyr whispered back, pulling the covers tighter around them. It was only then, as his body finally began to relax, that he realized something. For the first time in days, the looming specter of Abyss, the prophecy, and the poisoned springs had not occupied a single thought in his mind since Edric had closed the chamber door behind them.

???

The chamber was wrapped in a thick, oppressive darkness when Zephyr awoke, the soft glow of the fire reduced to little more than dying embers. The silence was suffocating, a heavy stillness that only seemed to amplify the low whine that echoed faintly from the high ceilings. Zephyr exhaled in relief, recognizing the sound immediately. “Here, Bianca,” he called softly, his voice barely a whisper to avoid waking Edric from his restless slumber.

A moment later, the fox’s small, wriggling body landed gently in Zephyr’s arms, pressing against him with a cold nose that nuzzled his cheek. Bianca let out a soft, pitiful whine, and Zephyr frowned, instinctively stroking his hand through her thick, soft fur. “What is it?” he murmured in concern. “Bad dreams again?”

Bianca responded with a sharp yip, her small body trembling against his, and then, before Zephyr could say anything more, a terrible crack split the night like the thunder of a distant storm. The sound reverberated through the chamber, and Zephyr’s stomach dropped. His heart skipped a beat as a sense of dread, sharp and sudden, knifed through him.

In an instant, Edric shot awake beside him, his wild eyes searching the room with the same desperate urgency that had once marked every battle. His hand reached instinctively for a sword that wasn’t there, his movements jerky and frantic. Zephyr's own body tensed as he leapt from the bed, eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of danger, when another bone-rattling noise split the air. It was as if the earth itself had cracked open, shaking with a ferocity that made the very walls tremble.

Bianca leaped from Zephyr's arms and ran toward the large window, her small paws clicking on the floor in a hurried dance. Zephyr, now filled with an aching sense of unease, turned toward the window, his pulse hammering in his chest. The heavy drapes had been drawn tight against the night’s cold, but the moment he crossed the room, the tension in his body coiled tighter still.

“Zephyr, don’t—” Edric’s voice followed, low and full of warning, but Zephyr didn’t wait to hear more.

With a swift motion, he threw the drapes open, and the sight before him stole the breath from his lungs.

The great waterfall, which had stood untouched and unchanging for centuries, was now shattered. The massive, endless flow of water that had always been a constant in Eskarven, a symbol of strength and stability, was torn down the middle. The jagged tear in the rock, wide and jagged like a wound freshly inflicted, split the majestic fall in two. The force of the damage was so violent, it seemed to shake the very foundation of the land itself. Zephyr’s breath caught in his throat, the image so shocking in its devastation that it felt surreal, like some kind of nightmare made real.

The dim light of the rising dawn only emphasized the brutality of the break. It was as though the world had shifted,everything that was once secure and constant now laid bare and vulnerable.

He heard Edric approach behind him, heard the muffled curse that fell from his lips as his own eyes found the destruction. “I’m sorry,” Edric murmured softly, but Zephyr barely heard him through the white-hot surge of anger that consumed him.

Only one thought was clear in his mind—this had gone on long enough.

Turning on his heel, Zephyr moved with a sudden urgency, his frustration mounting, his fingers curling into fists. He marched over to the wardrobe, yanking open the doors and pulling out clothing without care or thought for how they would match. Fur-lined leggings, a thick woolen shirt, a heavy cloak, a sturdy hat—anything that would protect him from the cold as he set out into the mountains. He didn’t care for appearances now; only the urgency of the moment mattered.

“Zephyr?” Edric’s voice was hesitant, almost strained. “That’s rather a lot for a court council, don’t you think?”

“I’m not holding a council,” Zephyr snapped, his voice tight with restrained fury. “I am riding into the mountains, and I am ending this now. Abyss found me once. It can do so again. I have words I wish to say to it.”

“Zephyr.” Edric’s voice was low, filled with caution, but his presence close behind Zephyr was unwavering. “Wait, please.”

Zephyr whirled around, his temper flaring as he faced Edric. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, and for a moment, he felt as though he might explode from the frustration that burned in his chest. “No, Edric,” he said, his voice like iron. “I will not stand by while my kingdom is torn apart. I cannot just watch this happen! I don’t expect you to understand. This is not your land, after all.”

Edric’s face went pale, his eyes widening slightly as though struck by the force of Zephyr’s words. He took a step back, the space between them suddenly feeling like a chasm. The reaction hit Zephyr like a fist to the gut, and instantly, regret washed over him. His heart twisted in discomfort as he realized how harsh his words had been.

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