The Curse Catcher (The Complex Book 0)

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The Curse Catcher (The Complex Book 0) Page 7

by Laura Thalassa


  I hesitate before I continue. “I also removed the part of the curse that made it cyclical,” I say.

  At my words, Asterion’s confusion seems to only deepen.

  “Regardless of what happens between us, there won’t be another sacrifice. The cycle has been broken.”

  Even from across the room I can tell he doesn’t breathe.

  “Skylar,” he stares at me like I’m his lifeline, “what are you saying?”

  I give him a tired smile, my heart feeling triumphant. “I am the last sacrifice. The curse ends with me.”

  Chapter 14

  Asterion takes a step forward, and his legs buckle. Without meaning to, he goes down on one knee.

  I cross the room and crouch before him.

  When his eyes meet mine, a tear slips down one cheek, then the other.

  “Thank you,” he whispers. “I know my words will never be enough, but thank you.”

  Damn this curse and all the emotions welling up inside me. I’m full of love and gratitude and I can’t help myself when I lean forward and kiss away the tears from Asterion’s cheeks.

  Beneath my touch, he stills. Almost reflexively his lips move to mine. They brush my mouth in the lightest of caresses. It’s gentle and affectionate, loving without being lustful. My heart nearly breaks at how beloved I feel in this instant.

  And then the instant ends. Asterion stiffens. A second later he pulls away, his eyes fearful.

  “The other part of the curse is still in me, isn’t it?” he asks. “The part where we fall in love, and then I kill you.”

  I suck in my lower lip, not wanting to answer.

  “It is,” he says, reading me.

  Asterion stands, backing away.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, already feeling the sting of his rejection.

  “I’m sorry, Skylar, but we can’t do this, not until the curse is removed.” The only thing that lessens the blow is the genuine pain in his eyes, like it kills him to leave me. “Otherwise …”

  I finish the sentence for him. “Otherwise I die.”

  It’s been hours since I last saw Asterion, who’s hiding himself deep in the labyrinth. Loneliness is sneaking up on me, making me think about all sorts of things I’d rather not.

  Like the fact that the epicenter of Asterion’s curse is entwined around his heart. Removing it from his brain was tricky enough. I could’ve destroyed his mind if I wasn’t careful. But his heart … that’s not tricky, that’s impossible.

  I caught a glimpse of it last time I looked at his curse. It hasn’t loosened its grip on him. If anything, it’s tightened it, embedding itself so deeply in that organ that removing it would undoubtedly kill him. His heart has grown around it.

  And now I know why all those other curse catchers wouldn’t cure Asterion, no matter the bloodshed a curse might cause. Curse catchers save lives, they don’t end them. They must’ve taken one look at that heart of his and seen how inextricably linked the epicenter of the curse was to him before turning him away.

  I was just too naïve and desperate to see earlier what I know now: I can’t remove it either. Even if my professional ethics didn’t hinder me, there’s now the fact that I care for Asterion. I could never.

  Thankfully, it no longer matters. The curse indeed ends with me. Now that it has no mechanism to force it to repeat on and on, it’s just like every other common curse—a single strike of bad luck is all it’s good for.

  Unfortunately for me, I’ll be that single strike of bad luck.

  And that means no getting out of here.

  I take a deep breath. So this is it. This is how my life ends. At the hands of the man I’m falling for.

  The thought of dying … I let out a shaky breath and push it from my mind. If I’m going to die, then starting right now, I’m going to live, beginning with actually facing my feelings—unnatural or not—for Asterion.

  He’s falling for me, I’m falling for him—what’s the point of staying apart if I’ve acknowledge that I’m going to die anyway? Why deny myself this one small thing?

  I square my jaw, feeling resolve wash over me. Making a hasty decision, I stalk out of the room.

  I stride through the halls, heading for the middle of the maze, where I know Asterion will be.

  “Asterion!” I shout, my voice echoing throughout the labyrinth. “Asterion!”

  This ends tonight.

  Everything ends tonight.

  “Asterion!”

  I’m almost to his room when Asterion turns down the hall, his brown eyes wide, his face worried. “Skylar, are you alright?”

  Instead of answering, I storm right up to him, and then I kiss him.

  Reflexively, his arms close around me, his lips immediately responding to mine, and I’m so, so desperate for this. It’s not enough, he’s not giving me enough.

  As if he heard my thoughts, his arms slacken, his face pulling away.

  “Skylar—”

  “No,” I say, my voice vehement. “Listen to me: I don’t care that this is the curse. We know what we’re up against. I’m not going to give this up because of what might happen. And neither are you.” I search his eyes, “Asterion, I give you permission to free yourself of guilt. Now, please, kiss me back.”

  He stares at me for several seconds, his eyes looking so tormented. He squeezes them tightly shut, and then it’s as though the dam inside him breaks. His mouth is back on mine, and his hands are everywhere, lifting, tugging, pulling.

  And then our clothes are coming off, piece by piece. We leave a trail of them in our wake as Asterion leads us back to his bedroom.

  I don’t have time to look around at our surroundings before he drops me to the mattress. A moment later he’s back on me, his bare skin pressed against mine. We spend more breathless minutes kissing, touching. He cups a breast, taking my nipple into his mouth. I arch into him, impatient for more, breathless for it. And then it comes.

  He presses himself again my entrance, and then he’s sliding into me, inch by satisfying inch.

  My eyes flutter shut as I release a sigh. Screw curses. This feels like ecstasy, like every one of my desires has finally, finally been answered.

  I open my eyes, staring up at Asterion. He gazes back down at me, and now that his gaze isn’t masked by his apprehension, I see something deep and pure in his eyes.

  There is no darkness in his expression, and his strong, handsome face is painfully gorgeous. It shouldn’t hurt to look at someone, but it does. Happiness shouldn’t be painful, but right now, it is.

  Enjoy this moment, Skylar, this might be the only one you get.

  He begins to move, and all my emotions get swept away, until the only thing that’s left is pure, unadulterated sensation.

  Well, that—and something that warms me from the inside out. Something, I fear, that feels a lot like love.

  Chapter 15

  In the middle of the night I feel a gentle hand shake me.

  I smile, even before I roll over. I’d already been woken once, to a trail of kisses along my shoulder, and then the two of us came together all over again.

  “Mmm …” I murmur as I turn to Asterion, my satiated smile lingering on my lips.

  Rather than returning the look, he flashes me a downright frightened expression. “Skylar, you need to go.”

  “What?” I sit up, running my hands through my hair.

  “You need to go,” he repeats, his voice urgent. “I can feel … I can feel … the rage … it’s coming on.”

  Now that has my attention. I look at him, alarmed.

  “Barricade yourself somewhere secure—don’t tell me where—and get your knives.”

  I’m shaking my head. “Asterion—”

  “Please,” he says, his voice alm
ost angry, his eyes begging me to listen.

  Reluctantly I get up, dragging one of the (shredded) blankets with me.

  “Run,” he says, his voice deepening.

  I cast him one last look. The bare muscles of his exposed torso are strained, and those eyes that earlier gazed at me with such adoration are now full of shadows.

  Breathlessly, I nod, and then I leave him.

  This is perhaps the worst walk of shame I’ve ever done, I think as I pick up one clothing item after the next, quickly slipping each on. Behind me, I can just barely hear Asterion’s labored breathing. That, more than anything, frightens me.

  I didn’t think it would come on this quickly. I thought that maybe we had more than a few hours.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  As soon as I pull on the last of the clothing items, I begin to jog. Where am I even going? I reject the idea of barricading myself in my room. I don’t want to be trapped when he eventually finds me.

  And I don’t want the knives—I don’t want to even be tempted to defend myself. Not when I’ve decided that I’m to be the one that dies in this scenario.

  Just as I pass by my room, I hear a moan off in the distance, followed by another.

  And then he roars. The sound raises the hair at the nape of my neck.

  It’s happening.

  I begin to run, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  In the distance, I can hear Asterion charging down the labyrinth, his throat making guttural noises that echo down the corridors. He might be completely human now, but the sound of all that mindless rage is still animalistic.

  And it sounds … it sounds like he might be gaining on me.

  I pump my legs harder. I should stop. I should just concede to death easily. There’s no other option for me. But self-preservation keeps me running.

  I pass the kitchen, hopping over junk in the hallway.

  Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving, I chant.

  Far ahead of me, I hear the dull thump of something striking metal. Almost as if Asterion was pounding on a far wall. Startled, I slide to a stop.

  How did he manage to get in front of me … ?

  BOOM!

  I hear plaster crumble somewhere not too far behind me. Asterion must’ve slammed into one of the maze’s walls.

  I begin sprinting again, nearly mindless with terror.

  Asterion roars, his footfalls galloping after me.

  And still, I hear the dull thud of something striking metal. I blindly head for the noise. Whatever is making it can’t be any worse than this.

  My thighs burn from the exertion. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up.

  “Skylar!” Asterion yells behind me.

  I glance over my shoulder, and I see him at the other end of the long hall, barreling towards me.

  Shit! I was hoping he’d still be confused in this labyrinth, but he doesn’t seem confused. Asterion seems to be quite aware of who I am and where he is.

  I skid around a corner, nearly going down on one knee before I force my exerted legs to sprint again.

  Several familiar rooms blur by me, and I realize that the sound I’m heading towards, that sound is coming from the entrance to the labyrinth!

  A surge of hope has me pushing my body harder. Someone’s come for me! Or, even if they haven’t, someone might be there, on the other side of the breach door. I just need to make it there before Asterion catches me.

  But what if no one’s there? I’ll be trapped. The possibility sends a bolt of fear through me.

  I take another turn at high speed, nearly slamming into the wall.

  “Skylar!” Asterion shouts behind me again, this time closer. “You can’t keep this up forever!”

  I’m only too aware of that. Already my thighs are beginning to protest, pushed to their limit, and my breath is coming in ever more ragged gasps.

  In the distance, the thumping stops, and my heart nearly stops with it.

  No. No no no.

  I only have a little ways to go. Just one more hall to make it down. There might still be time.

  Turning off the hall into the labyrinth’s entrance, I see the breach door, the large “U emblazoned on it. There’s nothing to indicate anyone was here.

  Letting out a small cry, I bang on the door. “Help! Someone! Please, help!”

  Behind me I hear Asterion enter the entryway. A shiver racks my body. I take a second to close my eyes. Whatever help may or may not be on the other side, it won’t get here in time.

  When I swivel around, I see Asterion, his impressive frame blocking the only way back into the labyrinth.

  This is not the man I’ve come to know. Not the wild, angry eyes, not the mean little smile tugging the corner of his lips up, not the growly, animalistic noises bubbling up his throat. His handsome face almost makes him more terrifying. You always imagine a bad guy to be grotesque, that their hate should somehow twist their features. But Asterion is just as beautiful as ever.

  At the sight of all that coiled fury, I back up. I can practically see the curse squeezing his heart. It’s playing him like a puppet master.

  “You’re not scared of me, are you Skylar?” he says.

  I swallow, trying to catch my breath. Reflexively, I glance over my shoulder at the breach door.

  He stalks closer. “There’s no way out, but you already know that, don’t you?”

  For a moment, his eyes flicker, and I swear I catch a glimpse of the kind, gentle Asterion I’ve come to know. The man I’m falling for. The man I let in.

  But as soon as I see that brief bit of kindness, it’s gone. He steps right up to me, his eyes moving over my frame. There might be no sight more terrifying than someone looking at you with nothing but hate in their eyes.

  Fear has all but paralyzed me. I thought I’d fight more when this moment came, I really did, but now that it’s all come down to this, I find I can’t move.

  Asterion reaches for my throat, and at first the touch is almost gentle. But then he starts squeezing.

  Reflexively, my hands go to his, my fingers trying to pry him off my neck. I gasp in a final breath as he cuts off my windpipe, lifting me off the ground by the throat.

  My feet kick at empty air. The whole time he stares at me, his eyes full of that foreign anger.

  It’ll all be over soon—for both of us.

  That’s when we both hear it. At my back, I swear I hear murmuring. It’s a whisper-soft sound, but it’s there alight.

  Help is here!

  Asterion’s eyes move to the door, and for a second time, they flicker, his hold on my neck briefly loosening.

  “Help,” I choke out. It comes out as barely more than a gurgle.

  Asterion’s attention snaps back to me. “Skylar.” He sounds horrified. “Gods … I can’t … can’t release …”

  His eyes flicker back to furious … then back to gentle.

  Stars above, the man is in there, fighting with the curse. All those pieces of it that I’d ripped away have made him more lethal and aware, but it seems that awareness is also causing him to turn on the curse.

  “Remove the curse,” he growls out, his teeth clenched, the words distorted.

  Remove the curse? That’s precisely what I want to prevent.

  His hand is still on my throat, his arm visibly shaking, either from the weight of holding me up or his attempt to fight the black magic. I can only shake my head. I won’t kill him.

  “Pl—” Asterion’s words cut off abruptly, and whatever softness was there gets swallowed up once again by that anger. His face contorts, his wrath making it severe. “You think you can escape me?” he growls.

  With a roar, Asterion throws me to the ground, my body crumpling against the ston
e floor, my elbow banging sharply against it. I only have a second to draw in a ragged breath before he follows me to the ground, both of his hands now wrapping themselves around my neck, squeezing, squeezing …

  I choke, my lungs on fire.

  I’m dying.

  The moment I was dropped off inside labyrinth I knew that was my fate, but I hadn’t imagined it would end quite like this.

  I feel a tear slip out, and then another. I’m not even sure what I’m crying for this point. That I’m going to die, or that Asterion will be forced to live with this one last kill on his conscience.

  He wants me to remove his curse.

  His teeth are clenched, but he manages to grind out, “Please.”

  He doesn’t know what he’s asking.

  Another tear slips out, and I shake my head, even as I scratch at his hands. I squeeze my eyes shut.

  It would be so easy to remove to the curse. I can see it even now, the neon green vines of it pulsating. It would be so easy, and yet I can’t do it. I can’t remove the curse knowing it will kill him.

  His hands tighten on my throat. “… know … I’ll die,” he forces out, his words broken.

  I open my eyes at that. So he understands what removing the last of the curse means. And he’d rather have death than this.

  His face is almost red from the force he’s exerting on my neck. My lungs are pounding, aching from the need to breathe. I can still hear those muffled voices on the other side of the door, but whoever our rescuers are, they won’t get to us in time.

  “Please … love.”

  Love.

  That’s all that’s motivating either of us, in the end. I thought death would be the ultimate sacrifice, the biggest show of my love. But I’m wrong. Because that sort of love is selfish. To force him to live on my terms rather than letting him die on his own. And that’s what he wants. To be stopped, to atone, to end the bloodshed on his hands even if that means ending him.

 

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