Chapter 49 Azalea
Azalea
I swear I’ve read through more books in the last week or so than I’ve ever read before in my entire life. And I like reading.
I groan as I close another book about curses that left me with more questions than answers. So far, one of the main lessons I’m repeatedly learning with each book is that mages love to keep the nuances of their magic a secret.
Yes, these books talk about general knowledge and very special circumstances where curses can be broken, but it feels as though no one wanted to sit down and explain how they’re formed in the first place.
Every curse needs to have a method for breaking it. It’s part of the balance and rules to keep magical beings from harnessing more power than can be handled. Or, as some believe, to keep them from becoming so powerful that they could challenge the gods in the sky.
Regardless, there has to be a way for Braxton to be able to break his curse, just like there has to be a way for me to be able to break mine.
If the witch that cursed us didn’t put something in place, then it would show in the imbalance of the world, the kingdom, the castle itself.
It would be evident somehow, but there doesn’t seem to be anything pointing to this.
Unfortunately, the method of breaking the curse does not have to be disclosed directly by the mage, meaning they can tell it to you in a riddle or through a code that you have to solve without knowing how.
She could have even done something as convoluted as providing a riddle that would then point to a book, that somewhere in the pages, would hold the answer.
This train of thought is what brought me to laying out the four children’s books in front of me.
They’re the only children’s books in the castle, and they all have to do with curses, so I thought perhaps one of them actually held the key to the truth.
I nibble my thumbnail trying to decide which of the four books I should start with, when I hear the library door open.
My head swivels around, but I already know who’s going to be standing there.
I have my pointed glare in place, readying myself to tell Braxton to get out again.
I feel as though I‘m being a bit harsh in making him leave earlier, but every time he looks at me all I can think about is his hard length pressed between my thighs. I know what happened in here was primal, but what happened in his study was dangerously close to being something more, and Great Celestials, I would be the biggest whore if I let it happen. Even with that thought plaguing my mind, my body didn’t want him any less.
When my eyes finally land on him, they narrow, scrutinizing how he’s leaving droplets of water in his steps as he walks closer to me. Every inch of him is soaked.
“Have a bath?” I inquire, walking toward and more rapidly closing the distance between us.
My mind seems incapable of dropping the heavy weight of guilt that lingers from how comfortable I’ve become in Braxton’s presence.
I should be fantasizing about slitting his throat at the dinner table and planning to write a devoted love letter to my fiancé using his blood.
Instead, I’m thinking about how I want to mold my body to his, even with him dripping wet, possibly especially with him dripping wet.
My mind is at war with itself, and I am exhausted. I can’t help but think that perhaps Rhoden was right, her words echoing in my mind.
“I always thought it was weird how a man who is as in love with you as you say Phillip is has just been idly sitting back and waiting for you to figure a way out of this.”
He gives me a wry smile, but shakes his head. “Not exactly,” he mutters, his words pulling me from my thoughts.
“Oh?” I let my clear confusion bleed into my tone.
The moment I’m close enough to him, his hand finds my hip and pulls me the rest of the way toward him. I should stop him, but I don’t. I can fight it until my dying breath, but I want this. I want him.
His hand stays locked on my hip, his fingers kneading and massaging the muscle there. It feels so perfectly natural, as if my hip was made for the sole reason to give him something to hold on to.
“A young handmaiden fell in the stream while I was out picking you flowers. I jumped in after her.”
I gasp, my body leaning away from Braxton to better see if he’s hiding any injuries. My mind goes to the stab wound on his side.
“What were you thinking?” I reprimand just as he tightens his hold on me and pulls me back into him.
“I was thinking I couldn’t let her go and drown.”
Embarrassment swallows me. Of course it was a good thing that he jumped in and saved her.
“Worried about me?” He teases, and I quickly move to change the subject, because I simply can’t admit to that.
“Is she okay?” I ask, knowing that should have been my first question.
“Yes, she’s fine. She hit her head and fell unconscious in the water, so who’s to say what could have happened, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is what did happen, and she’s okay. She’s in the infirmary now.”
“Did you have the infirmary check your stitches as well?” I harp.
“Did they make sure your wound didn’t open or get infected from that water?
Is it moving or stagnant water you have to be concerned about?
” I shake my head, and begin pacing in front of Braxton.
“It doesn’t matter. That water is probably filthy, regardless.
And when you say jumped into to save her, do you mean like you jumped?
Or did you more-so let gravity take you?
Could that rip your stitches? You didn’t hit the water on your side did you?
I’m pretty sure swimming in a rough current is frowned upon with a fresh stab wound.
” Having dispelled all the air from my lungs, I’m forced to stop my onslaught of questions and take a breath.
When he stays silent, I glare at him before smacking his shoulder. “Well, why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Oh, is it my turn to talk now? I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt the conversation you were having with yourself.” He jests, and I can’t stop the rosy smile that fills my face.
“I was just…” I don’t want to admit the full truth. It’s too embarrassing, especially considering how I would have previously relished the thought of him catching a skin-eating disease that would kill him, or at the very least disfigure him.
“Worried,” he supplies lifting a brow.
That stupid fucking word.
“No,” I snap a little too quickly. I cross my arms over my chest defiantly. “I was worried about me and what would happen to me if you went and got yourself killed like an idiot.”
He nods, but his curved lips tell me everything I need to know about how amusing he’s finding all of this.
“Anyway, did you come in here for a reason or to just try and impress me with your random act of heroism?” There’s too much bite in my tone.
I know my ignominy is screaming at me to retreat. I’m showing him too many of my cards, and now I’m wondering if that means I’ve simply stopped playing the game.
“So, you think I’m heroic?”
I roll my eyes. “Braxton,” I push.
“There’s more I have to tell you…” His words trail off as he pauses.
My shoulders inadvertently tense, only putting me further on edge. “Please do take your time. I love waiting for bad news.”
My brattiness doesn’t deter him, and I have to force myself not to believe it’s because he understands why I’m acting this way. No. That can’t be right. Because that would mean that he understands me, and I have no idea what the fuck I would do with that information if it were true.
“The current in the stream pulled us outside of the castle grounds.”
My forehead creases when he doesn’t elaborate. “Okay?” I prod.
He lets out a slow breath. “The reason you weren’t allowed to leave the castle grounds wasn’t because of your curse. It was because of mine. Neither of us could leave or we would turn to dust.”
I blink rapidly as if that will help me better absorb this new information he’s telling me. He can’t possibly mean…
“If I can leave, that means you can too,” he supplies, answering my unasked question.
Finally registering where he’s going with this, my head snaps up, and my eyes widen as I take in his sullen expression.
“Braxton…” I can’t finish the thought racing through my mind for fear I’m wrong, so I simply wait with bated breath for him to continue.
“I’m releasing you Azalea.” His face turns forlorn. “You’re free.”