Page 158 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
Call it habit, but he still sometimes forgot that shewasn’tforbidden. Not anymore. On the contrary, she was all his—and he, hers.
She padded closer, picking her way across the soft moss with her bare feet. A smile parted her lips, hungry and suggestive, and when she reached him, she climbed up his body on her hands and knees to straddle his hips.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he said.
She smelled like peaches and the fresh earthiness of the river—one half of the magical water mixture that had saved him. Hattie said that someday, she intended to learn more about the Wend’s magical properties—but she wasn’t in a hurry.
“Were you asleep?” Hattie asked.
“Dozing,” he said. “Did you enjoy your swim?”
Her skin was cool from the river, slick with moisture. He held her hips, rocking her forward against his growing erection.
“Yes,” she said, her voice breathy and low. “Did you enjoy watching?”
He had—up until the blood rushed to his groin, and he’d forced himself to stop staring. He would be thirty next year, yet Hattie still made him feel like a Fates-damned adolescent. “You’re beautiful,” Noble said. “Inside and out.”
Hattie leaned in for a kiss, her nipples—tight from the cold—brushing his chest. “Oh yeah?”
He nodded slowly. Her freckles had darkened from the summer sunshine and stood out starkly against her pale cheeks. “When you’re with me, the world appears brighter and more colorful,” he murmured against her lips, repeating what he’d said to her in Phina’s lab, just before they’d kissed.
She nibbledon his bottom lip. “Go on.”
He brushed an unruly curl off her forehead. “You are a sunrise,” he said. “You are the summer itself.”
“Is that so?”
“Every day, I thank the Fates that they gifted me with eyes capable of appreciating your beauty so closely. Every shade, every freckle, every expression. Nothing else compares.” He paused. “Even if I were blind, your radiant character would still take my breath away.”
Hattie’s lower lip wobbled, and he pinned it with a kiss. “I love you, too,” she whispered against his mouth.
He was still getting accustomed to his painfully perfect existence in Waldron with Hattie. Two months had passed since their return, and the events between their confrontation with his father and now had rushed by more swiftly than Wynhaim Falls, a cascade of conversations and emotions.
After escaping his father’s camp, they hadn’t stayed more than twelve hours in Fenrir City. Following their meeting with Phina (which had ended with Hattie insisting Phina give Oderin her best and emphasizing that they were welcome in Waldron anytime), Hattie had snuck into Inver College to collect her things. Sani and Uriel had eyed Noble with a blend of teasing and suspicion, but when it was time for Hattie to leave, they hadn’t asked any questions; Hattie’s vague insinuation aboutknowing too muchhad been enough for both her friends to understand her swift departure. After that, Hattie had written notes to Willa and Viren for Sani and Uriel to deliver, Noble had claimed the rest of his abandoned things from the Royal Inn of Fenrir, and then they’d ridden south.
To Noble’s relief, Kalden had ultimately allowed their escape. With Phina’s research program shut down, the general must’ve been satisfied enough by the neutralized threat to leave Noble and Hattie alone. He had no doubt that Kalden would be monitoring the spread of rumorsfrom afar, but in truth, it was a comfort to know that as long as his father didn’t come for them, no one else was likely to, either.
It still pained Noble to not have a closer relationship with his father, but he no longer wished to please Kalden, and that gave him a sense of freedom he’d always thought was out of reach. As far as Noble was concerned, hiding in a paradise like Waldron was the perfect solution to the concerns they’d discussed in Kalden’s pavilion.
Nobledidlook forward to proposing marriage to Hattie again soon—but the next time he did, it would not be in an effort tohideher, but to devote himself to her out of love andonlylove. He’d heard that Waldron weddings were boisterous affairs.
Hattie had been right about Noble’s reception in Waldron, too. After she’d called a town meeting to reveal her true identity, no one had questioned Noble’s presence. It had been touching, really, to see how Hattie’s community welcomed her truth. In spite of her protests, they’d held a festival in her honor—then vowed never to speak of the matter again. He wasn’t sure a town full of gossips could be trusted on such matters, but Anya had assured him that when it came toimportantsecrets, Waldron looked after their own.
And welcomed newcomers, too. Ever since folks had caught on about Noble notactuallybeing a recluse, he’d been inundated with social requests. Most meaningful, however, was Richold, who’d invited Noble back into his workshop to continue passing along his knowledge of Gildium (when he wasn’t spending an increasing amount of time with Kara). Noble, having cultivated a genuine passion for metal alchemy, had been honored to resume his studies—this time, for fun.
The one thing Noble and Hattie had kept to themselves, however, was his curse—specifically, his altered strength, something he and Hattie didn’t yet fully understand. Some secrets were worth keeping. And aside from the occasional questioning look from Richold when Nobledemonstrated too much strength at the forge or Idris when helping with chores around the Possum, that secret was easy enough to keep.
So, there they were: basking on a riverbank in a small town in southern Fenrir, far from the perils of their past—living, finally, inside the promise of their future.
“You’re pensive,” Hattie said, pressing her body fully against his.
The contact made him groan. “I was thinking about you.”
“I’m right here,” she said, poking his nose.
He laughed. “Still hard to wrap my head around that,” he admitted.
