Page 72 of The Cursed and the Broken
His laugh roared through the building and Dante latched onto my arm, rolling his eyes. “Be seeing you soon, old friend.”
“Keep her safe, wolf lord. Such a jewel should not be tarnished,” Imre called after us.
Dante’s reply was so quiet I barely heard it over his breath. “She is much too precious for that.”
I’d never seen so much purple in one place. The lavender fields seemed endless as they sprawled over the sloping hill, row upon row stretching towards the mountains in the distance. The distinct floral and herbal scent climbed my nose, laced with a woody undertone, instantly relaxing and calming all at once.
Bumblebees hovered overhead, their fat little bottoms swaying in the soft breeze, flitting in yellow and black stripes under the sunny sky. Gazing at the castle town behind us, I might have believed myself a girl living in a faery tale.
This was my home now. A concept which had seemed impossible to believe mere days ago, yet the man beside me was doing his best to make that transition easier. His head was upturned, eyes closed, long dark lashes fanning over his bronzed skin as he basked in the sunlight.
He seemed so human now—so normal—I could almost forget the killer inside him, the wolf of Mistvellen. But I wouldn’t. I needed that beast now more than ever. Needed him to build an army, to protect the ones we loved, to see us to victory once …
Once I was gone.
Or wasn’t. I would not go down quietly, but I still didn’t know what lay ahead.
Refusing to ruin the serenity of this place, I took a bite into mybejgli, ripping my teeth through the roll mercilessly.
“Does it pass the test?” Dante drawled. I hadn’t realised he’d cracked an eye open and was watching me with pure amusement dancing in his eyes. The sunlight gilded them and highlighted the red in his brown hair.
“Verff—guff.” I swallowed my mouthful, grinning. “Imre might be my new best friend.”
He smirked but grabbed a pastry for himself, taking a generous bite. Even the way he ate made something in my chest jolt. My throat bobbed. I would not think about what else he could do with that mouth. I would not—
He groaned and that nearly undid my restraint?until he smiled at me. I tried to suppress my smile as I pointed at his mouth, shaking with bottled up laughter. “Um, I think you’ve got something in your teeth.”
His brows creased together and, unable to withhold the dam any longer, I cackled at the poppies stuck between his teeth. The utter look of confusion on his face had me doubling over until tears leaked from my eyes.
Dante laughed too, sprawling back on his elbows and flashing me a lazy, poppy-filled grin. I struggled to breathe as he quirked his brows suggestively. “Please stop,” I wheezed. “It’s too much.”
Making to turn away, I yelped as he pulled me into his lap instead. He was warm, solid, and I allowed myself to sink into his touch. He coiled a strand of my hair around his finger absentmindedly and we sat there for a time, sinking into comfortable quiet.
We spent the afternoon just talking and I realised it was the longest time we’d spent together where we hadn’t been doing unsavoury things or hacking at monsters. He asked many questions—simple things at first, like my favourite colour, food, hobbies. Sage green and, ironically, lavender; anything sweet; and riding, reading, and cooking.
He grinned. “You’re as much a kitchen witch as you are full of fire then.”
“Thebestmemories are made with good food, good company and a stiff drink,” I replied.
Easy and distracting questions, but I liked that he asked. I quickly realised the small details were things I was most eager to learn. Simple treasures or daily habits of a normal person with a normal life.
Dante liked red; goulash and paprikash; and training, strategy games, riding, and reading.
“No, really?” I exclaimed at the latter, brows drawing together. “What do you read?”
I felt him shrug behind me. “Historical anecdotes on supernatural beings, grimoires, tales of knights saving damsels in distress, slaying monsters. All the fantastical. Though, if I’m in the mood for something scandalous, I have a few books on ... leisurely activities.”
My cheeks heated. “You can’t be serious.”
“When it comes to pleasure, darling, I’m deadly serious.”
His right hand began creeping up my leg, pushing the skirt up higher, higher, his fingers splaying over my thigh and curling round towards the junction of my legs. My breath caught in my mouth, but his comment about books had my mind distracted.
“Do you—do you have a library?”
His fingers stopped circling and I peeked up at him from his lap. His eyes were bright, his smile genuine. “Of course. It’s all yours, should you wish to use it.”
An idea formed in my head. “Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.”
