Chapter 2 #3
She tasted like fire and regret and possibilities. Her hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, pressing our bodies together until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began. The curse hummed beneath my skin, feeding on the heat between us, growing stronger with each passing second.
"Aurora," she moaned against my mouth, and the sound of my name sent electricity down my spine.
I tangled my fingers tighter in her hair, using the grip to angle her head, to deepen the kiss until we were both breathless.
Her control was fracturing beautifully; each barrier she'd built around herself crumbling under my touch.
Her hands began to wander, growing bolder, one sliding up my side to brush the curve of my breast.
That was when I pulled away.
The sudden absence of contact left her swaying forward, her lips still parted, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused. Confusion flashed across her face, followed by something deeper, more primal—need.
"Why—" she started, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, trying to reassemble her composure like broken glass. "Why did you stop?"
I took a step back, creating distance between us, even as everything in me screamed to return to her arms. But this wasn't about satisfaction. It was about control. About power.
"Because I wanted to see your face," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the fire raging through me. "I wanted to see what you look like when you finally admit what you want."
Bell blinked, reality crashing back into her expression. Her hand rose to her mouth, fingers touching her lips as if expecting blood. "This is—this can't happen. I'm here to break your curse."
"Are you sure that's still what you want to do?"
"It doesn't matter what I want," she repeated, but the conviction had drained from her voice.
I studied her… the flush on her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers kept curling and uncurling at her sides as if grasping for something just out of reach. She was fighting a war within herself, and I could see which side was winning.
"It matters to me," I said softly. "What you want matters to me, Bell."
Her eyes snapped to mine, suspicion warring with longing. "Why?"
Because you're mine now, I thought, but didn't say. Because the moment your lips touched mine, the curse found new prey. And no one will own your soul. Except for me.
Instead, I smiled. "Because no one's ever looked at me the way you do… like I'm more than the curse. Like I'm still human underneath it all."
A flash of guilt crossed her features. "You are human."
"Am I?" I laughed, and somewhere in the house, mirrors shattered in response. "I stopped being human the day they cursed me. The day they made me into this."
Bell took a step toward me, then stopped herself. Her hunter's instincts were returning, warning her away from the danger I represented. But it was too late. I'd tasted her surrender, and I wouldn't stop until I had all of her.
"I should go," she said, but made no move to leave.
"You should," I agreed. "But you won't."
Outside, the fractured sky began to bleed darkness, thick rivulets of night pooling against the windows. The manor groaned around us, adjusting its bones to accommodate my shifting mood.
Bell noticed, her gaze darting to the ceiling where shadows twisted into impossible shapes. "What's happening?"
"Nothing you need to worry about." I moved to the doorway, deliberately putting space between us. "Not yet, anyway."
She stood alone in the center of the room, looking lost and found all at once. The memory of our kiss still hung in the air between us like smoke after a fire. I could see the questions forming behind her eyes, the doubts and the desires battling for dominance.
"Aurora," she called as I stepped into the hallway. "This doesn't change anything. I'm still going to free you from this curse."
I paused, looking back over my shoulder. "Oh, Bell. Don't you understand yet? I'm not the one who needs freeing anymore."
Her brow furrowed, confusion replacing desire.
I smiled and continued down the hall, knowing she would follow eventually. They always did. But Bell was different… special. The others had been means to an end, steps toward freedom or revenge or simply distractions from the eternal prison of the curse.
Bell was something else entirely. Something I wanted to keep.
As I walked deeper into the manor, I felt the curse pulse through me, hungry and satisfied all at once.
Bell's taste lingered on my lips, her scent clung to my skin, and the memory of her control shattering replayed in my mind.
That moment when resistance turned to desire, when duty crumbled under want—it fueled me more than blood or fear ever could.
I wouldn't stop with a kiss. I wouldn't stop until Bell Moreau—the hunter, the savior, the woman who came to break my curse—belonged to me completely. Until she surrendered not just her body but her soul. Until she looked at the darkness inside me and chose to step into it willingly.
After all, curses were just promises waiting to be fulfilled. And I always kept my promises.