Page 11 of The Curse of Ophelia

Though this theory still resides in folklore, there has never been evidence of a blessed soul crossing the paths of the Spirits, deeming this tale as false. Most likely, this was a story created to encourage warriors to complete the perilous Undertaking with the hope that they may be revealed as an Angel descendant. Over the centuries, bloodlines have become so entwined that one would be hard-pressed to find a source of Angelblood pure enough to qualify as blessed.

My breathing stilled, the spark of hope I briefly felt extinguishing as I realized how ridiculous it was. Warriors had descended from Angels ten thousand years ago. Angelblood was nearly impossible to find nowadays.

“Fucking Spirits,” I cursed, throwing the book from the desk and collapsing back into my chair in frustration. Heat roared through me. I wanted to tear this office apart, tear the world apart until I righted these wrongs. Reestablished our people’s glory, completed the Undertaking, found Malakai.

“He is alive,” I whispered the reminder to myself, massaging the spot below my inner elbow that burned brightly, answering me. “I will fix it all.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded disheartened.

The flames cast dancing shadows on the endless books lining the walls. Endless pages in which I had searched for answers. Endless dead ends I had met in the past two years.

How had my friends, my family, even Malakai’s own family, given up so easily? I knew what they all thought. Rina’s words from last night had echoed through my mind since she spoke them. Everyone believed that Malakai, Augustus, the son of the Revered, and our future leader, had somehow failed to complete the Undertaking and died in the process.

They were wrong.

If Malakai had truly died, I would feel it. He couldn’t cease to exist without a piece of me dying as well, thanks to the imbued ink of the tattoo on my arm. Distantly, as if pulled through tar, I could feel the twin threads tangled together within my blood. But the link that should have formed between our souls was silent.

Despite the pressure on the Bind every time I thought of him, I had never felt further from the man I loved. The distance opened a trench of hopelessness in my soul, and the wider the cleft became, the harder it was to fight. I felt as though I was grasping at the air of memories without a solid reminder to tether me down.

I sank down further into my chair and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to imagine his touches, his kisses, but it all felt so distant. Watching the flames flicker with a heat I longed to feel, I realized that if intimacy was what I lacked, then I must go to the place where we were closest.

*

Brushing aside the curtain of jasmine and honeysuckle that shielded our clearing from the world was like stepping back in time. It was like years past, before the war, before the Curse, when Malakai’s footsteps echoed my own.

Moonlight flooded our clearing tonight as it had then, reflecting in the crystalline water of the pond and catching the wildflowers, turning each petal into a drop of starlight. My gaze swept over the space, twenty feet across with knee-high, featherlike grasses. A dense grove of trees wrapped around the field, concealing it from unwanted eyes. The trees were in the throes of spring, with fresh leaves and budding flowers decorating their branches.

Despite the tragedies that befell my life, the clearing alone remained untouched, its beauty only tarnished by memories.

Limbs shaking, I staggered to the pond and fell to my knees, the grass under my skirts cushioning the blow. A shadow crept across my heart as I looked around our haven and endless hours played out before my eyes.

“Come on, Augustus,” I called, grabbing his hands and slipping my slim fingers between his. It was the third night in a row that we had crawled out of our bedroom windows and met at the edge of our city, walking the mile to our clearing under the moonlight.

He laughed, and it was a breathtaking, husky sound that caused my heart to flutter like a caged bird. “I’m right behind you, always.”

Wildflowers reflected in his glossy emerald irises, starlight outlined the freckles across his nose, and my heart swelled within my chest. I had never known such happiness as these stolen moments.

“And when you aren’t, I will always find you,” I promised.

I brushed the gentle curls of dark hair from his forehead and stood on my toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. They were full and willing against my own. The moment our mouths met, his lips parted to welcome me, and I was undone by the taste of him. My hand continued past his forehead to the spot where his curls rested against his neck. I tangled my fingers among the thick strands, grazing my nails down his skin and tugging gently. He groaned against my lips, something deep within me heating at the sound.

Firm, familiar hands slid up my arms and back down the sides of my dress, exploring my body, as he so often had, each time as exhilarating as the last. Every time we were together was different. New and exciting. I could never get enough of this. Him. Us.

His hands gripped the backs of my thighs and lifted me effortlessly despite the layers of my gown. When he settled me across his hips, I relaxed into him, tightening one hand around the cool skin of his neck and the other against his broad chest.

I explored every part of him, my mouth moving from his lips to his neck while I slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. Each fastener that slid through the thin linen intensified the moment. We weren’t in a rush. We had all night in this clearing—our clearing.

Gracefully, Malakai lowered us to the ground, all the while staying tangled together. He moved one hand from my thigh to brush my hair behind my shoulder, and I rolled my head to give his mouth better access to my neck.

“I love you, Ophelia,” he mumbled against my skin between kisses. The bindings of my dress loosened as he swiftly untied them. He pulled back, his eyes darkening with a shadow I didn’t understand. “For every day my heart beats, I’m yours. My heart, my soul—it’s all yours.”

“I’m yours,” I repeated.

His lips brushed mine. “I will love you until the stars stop shining.”

His nimble fingers trailed up my exposed spine, coaxing me to arch into him. As I had many nights before, I completely gave myself over to him.

Afterward, we lay hidden among the billowing grasses, beneath our stars and moon. The shoulders of my gown had been pulled up, but still hung loosely around me. I rested my chin on Malakai’s bare chest as I gazed up at him, fingers tracing his tattoo. From the jasmine tangled among his dark curls to the blissful smile on his lips, I loved every piece of him.

“Until the stars stop shining,” I whispered.

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