Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,75

There is good in humankind.”

For several moments, we fall into a frozen silence. As each second wears on, heat begins to flood my cheeks, the realization of my hand on Elliot’s striking me harder and harder. It seemed vital in the moment, a way to drive the strength of my statement, but as his fist remains firm beneath my palm, I can’t help but recall how revolted he was at Mrs. Coleman’s incessant touches. Terror sends my pulse racing, but I’m too embarrassed to make any sudden moves.

I’m about to slowly pull away when his fist turns suddenly soft, his fingers yielding as they turn upward to lace through mine in a gentle hold. A sad smile tugs his lips. “I’m starting to think it’s possible that what you say is true.”

My heart hammers against my ribs as his eyes burn into mine. Where once his stare felt invasive, it now feels…different. Still dangerous, but in a new way I’m not sure how to explain. It sends a flurry to my stomach and makes me forget how to breathe. Yes, this is a dangerous feeling indeed.

He runs a thumb over the back of my hand, and the caress seems to radiate up my arm and down to the rest of my body. His lips part, but no words come out.

Like a magnet, I find myself leaning closer, as if that could draw out what he’s neglecting to say. Or perhaps it isn’t words I’m drawing forth but something else. Something about his lips—

A flutter of movement has our eyes darting toward the rose. There, drifting in a slow, sinuous arc back and forth, a red petal falls to the snow-covered floor of the courtyard.

Elliot grows rigid. Slowly, he rises to stand, his hand slipping from mine as he walks toward the rose. “That’s…unusual.”

“What?” I stand and come up beside him, finding my knees wobbling like jelly. I’m grateful for the chilly night air, as it helps cool the fire that’s invaded my cheeks after our…whatever that moment was.

“I already saw a petal fall today.”

My mind is slow to comprehend the significance of his words. When I do, a flash of panic washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced with logic. “I’m sure it’s after midnight by now,” I say calmly. “Technically, it’s a new day.”

He releases a relieved sigh. “You’re probably right.”

Remembering he likes to take each fallen petal with him, I crouch down to retrieve it. With careful, reverent moves, I lift the petal, its texture smooth and silky beneath my cold fingers. It’s unsettling to think I’m basically holding a day of Elliot’s life in my hand. A day that could be one of his last if his curse isn’t broken.

Ever since we made our bargain, I’ve been determined to try my hardest at making our scheme work. Even when I had my backup plan—however ill-conceived it was—my main intent was breaking Elliot’s curse. All because it would serve me well in the end, those twenty thousand quartz rounds buying my freedom and independence. But now…now something has shifted inside me. I’m still eager for the financial benefits our bargain will bring, but almost as much—no, equally so—I want to save Elliot’s life.

A fire burns inside my heart, my determination fusing with my desires. I’ll make Imogen break this damn curse if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll see Elliot regain his life, his freedom, his wolf form. And I’ll claim my freedom too. For the first time since we made our bargain, I truly feel its importance from both sides.

I’m about to stand and hand the petal to Elliot when I notice a hint of red peeking from beneath a light layer of snow. I brush it away, revealing another petal. My blood goes cold. I continue dusting away the snow until I reveal the cobblestone floor. And five petals along the way.

I spread them out in my palm, then look up at the king. His face is pale, his eyes wide and distant. “I thought you said you collected each petal daily?”

“I do,” he whispers.

Rising to my feet, I drop the petals in the king’s trembling palm. Ice fills my heart. “What does it mean?”

“The petals are falling faster.” He meets my eyes. “I’m running out of time.”

25

I hardly sleep that night, and the slumber I do find is fitful at best. My dreams are laced with vicious, falling rose petals and Elliot’s horrified expression.

As soon as the rising sun begins to brighten my curtains,