Wicked Curse (The Royals: Warlock Court Book 4)

by Megan Montero

  “I think you’ve had your fill, friend.” With two fingers, I shoved him back.

  He staggered away, bumping into the people behind him. When he regained his balance, he shoved his stringy hair out of his face and charged at me. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the lady.”

  I didn’t have time for this shit. I grabbed the guy by the collar and jerked him toward me. I snapped my head forward, and my forehead connected with the bridge of his nose. He dropped to the ground like a dead fish. Tilly’s eyes widened, yet she said nothing. I stepped over him and motioned to my mother to guide the way.

  She eyed me carefully. “Short tempered tonight, mi vida?”

  “Don’t have time for that shit.”

  We walked past a tank that looked like one of those old dunking games, except this one was filled with dark-green water. Two girls popped up from the skuzzy tank. Chunks of seaweed hung from their heads and sickly pale-gray skin. They waved and batted their eyelashes at me. “Hiiiii, Maze, hiiiii,” they cooed in unison. Didn’t these two take a hint?

  I rolled my eyes, but Tilly yanked me forward. She marched right up to the tank. “I think you’ve had your fill… friend.”

  What? What the hell was she doing?

  “Come play with us,” they began to sing, and Tilly threw her hands over her ears while every guy in a ten-foot vicinity all turned toward the murky water.

  Tilly hauled her leg back and let it fly. She put her bare foot right through the front of that tank, shattering it to pieces. A rush of water exploded outward, sending a wave across the grounds. The two sirens flopped out like fish caught in a net. They bared their pointed teeth at Tilly and hissed.

  Tilly hovered over there, holding up her claws and baring her own teeth. She hissed and growled back at them, “Don’t have time for this shit.”

  What the hell? Was she… was she jealous? I tried to tap into her emotions, and there it was, burning like a little green demon, hot and heavy—jealousy. But add confusion to that. She had no idea why she was jealous, only that she was, and she acted on instinct.

  “Do something before she eats them!” my mother snapped at me then turned to the crowd. “It’s always an adventure at the Circus of Freaks… tell your friends!”

  I turned toward Tilly, lifted her, and threw her over my shoulder. “So much for blending in.”

  I charged down the main path of tents and walked past the big tent where I could hear my father’s voice booming from within. “Watch as the mighty lion bows to my will.”

  Yeah, Dad, a lion shifter you’re probably sleeping with. I loathed this place sometimes. Tilly bounced on my shoulder, yet she didn’t struggle at all. I hurried past the cages of animals I knew the crone kept for her dark craft. I didn’t have time to see if she’d invite me in or accept the fact that I was here. Yet, as I approached the dingy tent, the flap opened as if welcoming me… or escorting me to my death… whichever came first.

  I walked into the tent, and even now, so soon after my last visit, the sights were unsettling. Tilly lifted her nose and sniffed in the direction of the stone altar, no doubt taking in the scent of the blood. This might’ve been a bad idea. I wanted to turn on my heels and walk right out. I put Tilly down, and she took a step toward the altar, her eyes blazing with curiosity. Skeletons of animals hung from the ceiling by long frayed strings. Threadbare rugs covered the ground, each one overlapping the next. A single broken-down couch sat at the far end of the tent. Tilly kicked at the rugs then squatted down to look at the cages below the altar. She jumped back and moved closer to my side.

  “What were my first words to you, boy?” The crone let the flap of the tent fall shut behind her.

  I swallowed around the ball in my throat. “Be careful what you wish for, I believe.”

  The crone, who was no taller than four foot seven, stood there, looking at me. Thin strands of stringy gray hair hung down past her wrinkled face. She hunched over a twisted wooden walking stick. A tattered black robe covered her tiny body from her shoulders to the ground. “You’ve brought me a present.”

  She looked over my shoulder toward Tilly. Instinctively, Tilly took another step, now so close to me she was nearly pressed against my back. She’d thrown Ophelia, faced off against us easily, yet in the face of the crone, she backed down. Why? Was it the smell of demon blood lingering in the air, or the power rolling off the crone that made her want to hide from this woman?

  I placed my hand on Tilly’s arm and tugged her closer behind me. “No, she’s not a present.”

  The crone hobbled farther into the tent. “It’s a demon.”

  “She’s not.” I squared my shoulders. “She’s half human, and I’ve come to bring her other human half back.”

  The crone sniffed the air. “It smells of demon.”

  “I used demon blood to save her from her wounds. She would’ve died otherwise.”

  “Better off dead.” She moved next to Tilly and poked her in the side.

  Tilly flinched away and moved to my other side. Her little claws dug into my arm, and a surge of protectiveness rose up in me. “No, she’s here, and she’s with me.”

  “Stupid.” The crone spat the word. “It can’t be fixed.”

  “It can.” I met her gaze. “We both know you can do much.” If anyone on this planet could help me, she was it. Light magic had its limits, but dark… if she could think it, she could do it.

  She drew herself up and glared at me. “For a price… something could be done.”

  “What’s the price?” I sucked in a breath, holding it, hoping it wasn’t the heaviest toll of all.

  “You know.” She chuckled. “And yet you still deny me.”

  “Please, just help me fix her. My father is your protector; that has to count for something.” Begging? Was I begging now?

  She motioned toward Tilly. “Oh, and this creature is better than the price you could’ve paid. You are weak. Just as your father.”

  I ground my teeth together. I wanted to yell to the ceiling. I was nothing like my father. Instead, I bit my tongue. I needed to help bring back the Tilly we all knew, not demon-Tilly, but my sunflower, the one who brought so much light into my world of darkness. I sighed and said, “Just help me… please.”

  The crone let go of a hissing chuckle. “If you didn’t want to pay the price before, you won’t want to pay it now. Leave. The sight of you sickens me. Weak, such weakness…”

  Chapter 21

  Beckett

  The long table stretched out before us and stood nearly as high as my chest, making it look like I was only talking to shoulders and heads. No one’s hands were on the table—an impressive way to keep manners intact. The king and queen each sat at opposite ends of the table, at the heads. Astrid was directly beside me, while Nova and Ash took the seats opposite us. The table matched the rest of the silver castle, shining with the blue lights illuminating the room. It was laid with plates and dishes of all different kinds of food, yet every dish was vegetarian. Something green, something with fruit, something with green fruit I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

  My eyes were only drawn to Astrid. That dress offered more glimpses of her body than I’d ever seen. All that creamy skin on display, and her strawberry scent enveloped me with her every move. I turned a little bit toward her, and she smiled up at me, and for a moment, I forgot I was trying to eat something green and leafy. Her foot slid over the back of my leg, and I wanted to groan at the touch. We’d never been like this. In the past, there’d always been feelings and tension between us, but never freedom. But now, looking at her, she was right here with me in the way she felt.

  Astrid grabbed a grape and popped it into her mouth, drawing my eyes to her plump lips. Little drops of juice lingered on her lips, and I wanted to lean over and kiss them off. Her tongue darted out of her mouth ever so slowly, and my eyes tracked the movement.

  “Do you not find the food pleasing, young warlock?” the queen snapped from her end of the table.
/>   I jerked from watching Astrid to face the queen. “Very pleasurable.”

  Astrid’s foot went higher on my leg and rubbed up and down in a slow tantalizing motion. My brain scrambled. I turned back to face her as she took a piece of carrot and dipped it in a white cream that sat in front of her. Her little tongue dabbled at it, tasting the dip. Shittt.

  “You’ve barely eaten.” The queen sat back in her chair, staring at me.

  “Haven’t I?” I glanced down at my plate. She was right; I’d barely touched it. How could I, with Astrid running those slow circles on the back of my leg and teasing me with her mouth? If she didn’t stop, I was going to have to throw her on the table here and now.

  I reached over and ran my finger up the side of her exposed thigh. Her skin was smooth to the touch. I wound my grip over the middle of her thigh, giving it a little squeeze. The dress fell away from my fingers ,and I left my hand there, using only the tip of my finger to make small circles on her skin. Goosebumps broke out over her skin, and the muscle in her leg quivered. She let go a light sigh, and I knew I was affecting her as much as she affected me.

  I turned back to the queen and made a show of picking up a slice of peach. “It’s delicious.”

  I brought the peach to my lips and sucked on it for just a second before popping it into my mouth. The queen gave me a single nod then turned back to Ashryn. “No, absolutely not.”

  “I need him,” Ashryn insisted.

  I wanted to help her try and convince the queen, but I couldn’t. Astrid’s little fingers wound around my wrist, and she pulled my hand higher on her leg. I struggled to stifled the urge to jump her. I let my finger linger on the edge of her panties, just letting it dance back and forth. When I turned toward her, I saw that her eyes were dilated, and she bit her bottom lip. How the hell was I going to make it through this damn dinner?

  I reached for my goblet and brought it to my lips, taking a deep drink. Astrid’s hand slid up my leg and landed between my legs, cupping me. The water rushed from my mouth, and I spit it like a fountain onto the middle of the table. Everyone turned to look at me. Astrid held in a light chuckle.

  “You are killing me,” I muttered.

  “So are the little circles,” she whispered back.

  “Really, young warlock, are you quite all right?” The queen turned her sharp gaze on me once more, and I felt the need to bow or something. I didn’t even know.

  “Excuse me, it went down the wrong pipe.” I ran my fingers over my lips, trying to wipe away the mess. When Astrid walked her fingers back up my leg, I held very still. She stopped just on my upper thigh, with her finger brushing over me. Back and forth, up and down, over and over again. It was a slow kind of torture to not be able to move, to press my body to hers, to take her lips with mine.

  The queen slammed her hand on the table, and we all startled. Astrid’s hand left my lap, and I almost reached over to yank it back. The queen shoved back from the table. “Ungrateful child!”

  “Why? Because I serve a greater purpose than sitting behind these stone walls, thinking they’ll protect me?” Ashryn too rose to her feet, facing off against her mother.

  “We are protected here,” the queen insisted.

  “I saw Lyra, mother. How could you?” Ashryn’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

  “Traitors, you side with traitors.” The queen stepped away from the table. “Enough of this. You will return to your rooms and leave at first light.”

  “Gladly.” Ashryn too stepped away from the table.

  “Colette!” the queen bellowed, and that bodyguard assassin of an elf appeared at her side in an instant. Her sharp blue eyes promised me pain. The queen motioned toward the table. “See them back to their rooms.”

  “I know where my room is, Mother.” Ashryn stomped away. “Let’s go.”

  “Is she talking to us?” Astrid whispered.

  Nova nodded across the table. “I think so.”

  I rose to my feet, careful to pull my jacket around and button it. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for the lovely meal.”

  “Be out of my sight, now. My daughter has disappointed enough.” She turned away and marched in the opposite direction of Ashryn.

  We all took one look at each other and quickly followed behind Ashryn. The hallways flew by as I walked behind Astrid, watching her hips sway from one side to the other. That dress dipped so low on her back that every once in a while, I got the barest flash of her pert flesh. The slits on the side of the dress showed off her legs from ankle to hip, and all I could see was that skin. My fingers ached to touch it, my lips ached to taste it, I wanted every inch of her to be mine. I didn’t have her soul connected to mine, but my soul was connected to hers. We came to a stop just outside the door to our room, and Ashryn rounded on us. She jabbed her finger toward us. “Be ready at midnight… we’re getting our tracker.”

  Chapter 22

  Astrid

  Heat bloomed over my body, and I knew what I was doing, knew what was coming. I’d toyed with him, teased him, and practically begged for it. As I turned away from him and walked into our room, I could feel his eyes on me. The heat of his gaze practically burned into my skin, and suddenly, my barely-there dress felt like a wool blanket. I heard the door fall shut behind me, and I felt his energy rolling in through the room.

  His arms wrapped around my back, and he jerked me into his body. His lips were on mine before I could take a breath. His minty flavor filled my mouth, and I wanted more. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He grabbed the back of my legs and picked me up; I wrapped them around his hips, and we slammed into the wall behind me. I couldn’t hold him tight enough, couldn’t get close enough. My heart raced in my chest; my fingers were wrapped in his hair, pulling him toward me.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine. His gasping breath mingled with mine and he sighed. “I-I don’t wanna stop.”

  “So don’t.” I fisted his hair and dragged his mouth back to mine. He shoved me against the wall even harder. His entire body pressed to me, and I loved every second of it.

  This was my soulmate—the one person meant for me in all the world. If we couldn’t share this, then who could? He bound his soul to mine and kept me in this world because he didn’t want to live without me in it. Truth was, I didn’t want to live without him either. With a whispering touch, the latch at the back of my neck holding up the dress fell away. The top half was gone, fallen to my hips.

  I shoved the jacket from Beckett’s shoulders, and it fell to the ground in a pool around his feet. Skin, so much smooth tan skin for me to touch. I ran my hands over him, letting my nails scratch him ever so slightly. The muscles of is stomach flexed and moved with every breath he took, with every sway of his hips. I threw back my head, letting him kiss his way across my neck and shoulders. How could anything feel so good as his lips on my skin? A sigh of pleasure escaped me, and I could help it. The front panel of my dress slid to the side for a bare second, and then the sound of tearing fabric filled my ears. My underwear snapped off my body with a firm tug, and they were gone, drifting to the floor in a discarded pile. I fumbled for the fly of his pants and managed to get it undone.

  Beckett turned toward the bed and walked me that way, all the while his hands were splayed over my ass, holding me close to him. We fell into bed in a tangled mess of limbs and deep kisses. I wanted him, not just because he was my soulmate, but because deep down I loved him; with every fiber of my being, I loved him. Were we perfect? No. But this night could be. This one stolen moment we would take for ourselves because tomorrow we may not return. As his tongue danced with mine, he pushed that thought away, making me forget everything. All I could see was him, feel was him.

  “Astrid.” He whispered my name like a prayer as he fell within the cradle of my legs. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I hooked my leg around his knee and twisted my hips, rolling us both until he lay flat on his back with me on top of him. “You won’t.”
/>
  His eyes widened and his hands found my thighs. His fingers pressed into my skin as I found the perfection of what it was to truly join your soulmate. I threw back my head and enjoyed the feel of the two of us moving together as one. It was everything that was amazing and nothing I could describe. Beckett sat up and pressed his chest to mine; he held my gaze for long moments—until our bodies were drenched in sweat, our breath mingled together, and I didn’t know where he ended and I began. He twisted to the side, and we tumbled into the middle of the bed, his big body on top of mine. Every muscle rippled as he moved. He ran his hand up my arm, finding the one hand draped over my head. His fingers wound with mine, and he looked down at me, meeting my eyes. It was the most intense connection I’d ever experienced, and I didn’t want it to end. Feel me, love me.

  “You are perfect, my Astrid.” He kissed the tip of my nose then made his way back to my mouth. A moment before he took my lips again, he whispered, “I love you.”

  I smiled, knowing it was true, knowing this was everything. “I love you too.”

  There was nothing but Beckett. The world fell away, the worry fell away. My mind was clear of everything but him and this stolen moment. I wanted him, wanted this. And there it was… connection. Knowing that after all was said and done, I was his, and that was enough. I was enough. I loved him, and he loved me. Nothing else mattered but us. I knew, deep in my soul, this was how it was supposed to be. My breath hitched in my throat, and my body exploded into ecstasy. I never knew pleasure could be like this with someone else. But with him, it was perfection. It was beautiful, it was love. And I knew when I came back down, he would be there to catch me—always.