Page 46 of Curses and Cornstalks
The fire snuffs out just as quickly as it appeared, leaving a seemingly unscathed Atticus laying in its wake. Only now, he looks different.
Crawling on my hands and knees to his side, I look him up and down, searching for burns, but there aren’t any. His skin has lost its grayish pallor replaced by a milky white complexion. His hay-like hair is now a mop of curly blond waves, and the rest of his body hair matches. The gourd that plowed my fields minutes ago has disappeared, and in its place is a very normal-shaped cock.
He’s beautiful and flawless and completely human.
“Atticus?” My voice is soft and on the verge of breaking.
His eyes are closed, but the steady rise and fall of his chest tells me he’s breathing. Heart still racing in my chest, I shake his arm and wait for a response.
“Atticus, can you hear me?”
For several seconds, nothing happens, and worry begins to set in. I have no idea what’s happening, but he has a pulse and he’s breathing, so he can’t be dead.
“Wake up,” I demand, shaking him harder. I can feel myself inching toward a panic attack as the seconds tick by. I have to make sure he’s okay. That’s all that matters.
Please be okay.
He has to be all right.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stirs with a grunt. His eyes flutter open, and he blinks several times as his vision adjusts before lolling his head to the side to look at me.
“Cassie,” he groans, and I swear, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. “Did I just catch on fire?”
I laugh at the absurdity of his question and nod. “Yes, you did. You’re lucky you aren’t burnt to a crisp.”
He brings his hand in front of his face, the same way he did after I cut him free, and stares at his pale fingers. He touches his face, checking to make sure all of his features are there. When he’s confident none of them burned off, his warm, brown eyes stretch wide.
“I think,” he says, tentatively touching his fingers to his lips. “I think we broke the curse.”
I look over him again, my heart skipping a painful beat.
Is that what happened? Did we really break the dark magic binding him to the cornfield and making him immortal?
Time stands still, everything ceasing to exist for a moment. I’d accepted our fate, been willing to love him exactly as it was, but it seems fate has other plans.
He sits up slowly, looking himself over in awe. He flexes his fingers and toes, raking his fingers through his hair. He runs his tongue over his teeth, making sure everything is back to normal.
From what I can see, it is.
“Cassie,” he says, his eyes finally trailing over to me. I’m stunned still, watching him as my brain struggles to catch up. “Are you alright?”
I blink a few times, trying to snap out of it. “Well, I thought I was watching you die. A little traumatic, but I’ll survive.”
“I thought I was dying,” he admits, scooting closer and dragging me against his chest. I have to fight back tears as I settle against his warm skin; he’s no longer cold. “Death will have to be faster next time, I guess.”
With a finger, he lifts my chin, and the corners of my eyes begin to sting. A tear rolls down my cheek, and he promptly wipes it away.
“I really am alright, darling,” he assures me. “I promise.”
I want to believe him. I do.
But I also just watched him catch on fire. “You’re not going to burst into flames again?”
His lips press into a line. “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know if I get the urge.”
A laugh escapes me, relieving some of the tension in my chest, and he presses his lips against mine.
I’m still not sure how exactly we broke the curse, even though the proof is right in front of me. But whatever unknown sex magic we performed clearly did the trick.
