A Cursed Kiss (Myths of Airren Book 1)

by Jenny Hickman

  I was losing my bloody mind, and I didn’t even care as he removed the second one the exact same infuriating way. Fire pooled in my belly, delicious heat that moved lower until I thought I’d burst into flames.

  When Tadhg reached for my skirt, I shook my head.

  He thought he could torture me and suffer no consequences?

  I was going to make him beg.

  “My turn.” I sat up and pushed him onto his back. The pointed tips of his ears stood out against the white sheets. My skirt rode to my waist when I straddled him and rolled my hips once . . . twice . . . pulling a strained curse from Tadhg while I unfastened . . . each . . . individual . . . button . . . on his waistcoat and shirt, exposing the finely sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen.

  His insistent fingers dug into my upper thighs. He lifted his hips, urging me to move harder and faster, climbing higher and higher. I raised to my knees, breaking the connection. My body screamed, and Tadhg growled, but somehow, I managed to say in a clear voice, “My dear immortal husband, if you think I’m going to rush this—”

  The low noise in Tadhg’s throat sounded like a strangled plea. He squeezed my waist, flipped me onto my back, and suddenly, our clothes were gone. Magic slipped down my throat, heightening my senses, intensifying every touch, every sound, every color.

  “Wicked, wicked woman,” Tadhg purred, swallowing my victorious smile with a punishing kiss. When he parted my thighs with his knee, I sighed. When he tore his mouth away, my whimper of protest became a moan of ecstasy as his cold, cursed mouth sampled my body, eventually reaching the place where he knelt.

  Now he could take his time.

  And bloody hell did he take his time, coaxing me to the top of a cliff and pushing me over the edge. Before my shuddering subsided, Tadgh stretched and filled my body with his. We became the waves, crashing, slipping, rolling, colliding

  over

  and over

  and over . . .

  “Lie to me,” he breathed against the shell of my ear.

  “I love you.” It wasn’t true yet, but I desperately wanted it to be.

  “Again,” he begged, thrusting harder, faster, almost to the breaking point.

  My nails raked down his shoulders, his back, his waist, and when I said I loved him, his sweat-slickened body collapsed on top of mine with a shudder and the sweetest curse.

  “I was told you’d be the death of me,” he murmured, withdrawing slowly and falling onto his back, arms splayed wide and chest heaving. The closed curtains swayed in the breeze, letting in a draft that prickled my overheated skin.

  Struggling to catch my breath, I pressed a hand to my leaping heart. Tadgh pulled me against him. The soft hair on his thighs tickled mine when he draped my leg over his.

  “Who said that? Ruairi or Rían?”

  Tadhg pinched my backside. “We’re not talking about my brother.”

  Didn’t he know there was no reason to be jealous? “You know nothing happened.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Just imagining the two of you together nearly destroyed me,” he confessed, pressing a tender kiss to my hair.

  How would I feel if I thought Tadhg’s interaction with Aveen had gone further than a kiss? The twisting in my stomach was decidedly green.

  I took his hand and brushed a kiss to his knuckles. Even if Rían had touched me, the memory of anyone else’s hands would’ve been eclipsed by these hands. The one time Rían and I had kissed was nothing more than a fading memory. “What would you have done if I did care for him?”

  Tadhg pulled me closer. “Killed him every time he came into the room.”

  A laugh escaped before I could catch it. “That’s not funny.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. I would’ve killed Robert too, except it would’ve upset you.”

  Even after everything he’d done, I didn’t wish Robert dead. Perhaps thrown in jail for a good long while, but not dead.

  “I think we need to discuss your penchant for murder.” I didn’t want my husband going around killing people simply because they made him angry.

  “What’s there to discuss? Some people deserve to die.”

  Some people did deserve to die. Like those villains who had killed Padraig. But the majority deserved a chance to redeem themselves. Tadhg, of all people, should have understood the concept of redemption.

  I kissed a particularly nasty scar across his right pectoral muscle. A wound that horrific would’ve killed him. “Does it hurt to die?” Or had he done it so often that the pain barely registered?

  He shifted his hold so he could trace the hideous black mark on my stomach. If only there was a way to hide the unsightly reminder of how close I came to becoming a permanent resident in the underworld. “You’ve been stabbed. You tell me.”

  The memory of the blade meeting my belly, of scalding fire and searing ice, left me trembling. Being stabbed was horrific, and by the looks of it, Tadhg had been stabbed a lot.

  The scar at his throat from Kinnock was faded but still visible. Had they cut his throat the way he’d cut Rían’s? Had they actually killed him?

  “Tadhg?”

  “Hmmmm?”

  “What did they do to you in Kinnock?”

  He pulled my fingers from his neck and pressed a kiss to my palm. “I’m fairly certain you already know the answer to that question.”

  They’d been executing Danú that day—with an axe. Did that mean . . . “They cut off your head?”

  “Don’t look so appalled.” His low, rumbling chuckle vibrated his chest. He pulled me on top of him, and my legs automatically fell on either side of his hips. “It always finds its way back.”

  I sat up straighter so I could memorize the way his dark hair splayed across the pillow. The slight glow of his emerald eyes. The way his lips curled into a wolfish smile as his gaze roved down my body. A delicious thrill zinged through my blood.

  What had we been talking about?

  Oh, yes. Beheading.

  “How—”

  “This isn’t what I want to discuss on our wedding night.” He caught me by the waist and flipped me onto my back.

  As interested as I was in the way he trailed kisses down my chest, I wanted to finish this conversaaaaaation. “Tadhg?”

  He hummed against my breast.

  “What does it feel like? Coming back.”

  His hair tickled my chest when he dropped his forehead against me and groaned. “It hurts almost as bad as being stabbed. Like you’re trapped inside your body and can’t move. Taking in air for the first time burns like the fires of hell, and you can’t escape it. You just have to push through the pain and pray you come out on the other side with”—he shifted his hips, nudging his hard length against my thigh—“all your parts intact.”

  The yearning deep in my belly returned with a vengeance. I took him in my hand and guided him into me. “I’m certainly glad you still have all your parts.”

  Tadhg’s breathing hitched as he eased his hips forward. “You and me both.”

  33

  Birds chirped and waves crashed. The heavy drapes around me fluttered with an errant breeze. I stretched my arms over my head and relished every delicious ache in my body. When I rolled over, my bouquet of hydrangeas and a note sat next to Tadhg’s empty pillow.

  Don’t go anywhere.

  I won’t be long.

  -T

  Part of me was relieved that I didn’t have to see him first thing. His absence gave me a chance to compose myself and finger-comb my tangled hair without an audience. But a larger part was disappointed.

  I wanted to know how his hair looked in the mornings. Did it stick up at the sides where his head met the pillow, or was it as delightfully windswept as it always seemed to be? Did he lounge abed when he first woke, or did he spring from the mattress, ready to greet the day? I had a feeling it was the former.

  What would it be like to lie around in bed all morning with my husband?

  The wicked thoughts flitting through my min
d made my face burn.

  I drew the sheet over my shoulders and pushed through the break in the heavy velvet canopy, only to escape back to the mattress when I realized the bed was still in the garden. Tadhg expected me to sit in the middle of the garden naked, waiting for him to return? What if someone else came?

  I searched the tangle of sheets and found my blue dress from last night. Kneeling on the mattress, I wiggled back into the dress and did my best to make it look like I hadn’t spent the whole night rolling around in bed with Tearmann’s prince.

  My stomach ached from hunger. When I peered through the curtains again, there was no sign of anyone. Sunlight glistened off the water flowing over the fountain, and suddenly I was in desperate need of the privy. The maze left me turned around for far longer than I’d wanted, but eventually I made it out.

  Back in my room, I used the privy, then sponged off with the cold water left over from last night. Someone had left a handful of gowns in soft jewel tones hanging inside the armoire. I changed into one the color of Tadhg’s emerald ring, then found my way back downstairs.

  Where was Tadhg?

  Bloody hell, I was hungry enough to eat an entire loaf of bread. Perhaps Tadhg was in the dining room. My fingers slid along the rough stone wall as I descended to the entrance hall. Brilliant pink and purple fuchsia blooms had replaced the blue flowers from yesterday. The dining room was empty, but the savory smell of bacon lingered. Forget Tadhg. I needed to find the kitchens.

  The first room beyond the dining hall was a parlor with overly ornate furniture and golden drapes. The second room was a closet of some sort, piled with crates and dusty books.

  The third room was dark, with the curtains pulled so that only a sliver of light fell through the gap. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but when they did, I was paralyzed.

  The room was filled with coffins—twenty, at least. Lined up side by side with only enough space to walk sideways between them. Most were empty. But not all.

  Six of the coffins held bodies.

  All of them were women.

  The first was beautiful, with a round, cherub-like face caked in makeup and short blond hair in tight, springy curls. The second was a dark-haired beauty with a deep scar across her sunken left eye. She reminded me of a younger version of the barmaid I’d met in the Green Serpent.

  The third woman, I recognized. She was the innkeeper who had assumed Tadhg and I were sharing a room. Around her were the barmaid from the Black Rabbit, Áine the faerie, and the woman from the Arches, Marina.

  All of their lips were black.

  Tadhg had killed all of them.

  Why?

  He had said Marina kissed him, which had to be true. But what about the other women?

  There were footsteps outside, in the hallway. I dropped to the ground and held my breath, listening to boots click on the stones.

  My heart ached as I crawled to the door and peered through the crack, catching a glimpse of Tadhg as he passed. His hair was damp, as though he’d bathed. And he carried a tray with a silver lid. As hungry and heartbroken as I was, I couldn’t let him know I’d found this place. I needed time to think before confronting him.

  The air in this cursed room was too stifling. I needed to get out of here and find someplace where I could breathe and process.

  The moment Tadhg rounded the corner, I pushed open the door, closed it behind me, and started for the main entrance.

  My boots slipped against the stones and my hair flew behind me as I escaped from that horrific room and the growing realization of what Tadhg had done.

  All those women.

  Murdered.

  He’d said that he didn’t kiss anyone unless they understood the consequences, but how could all of those women have been willing to give up their lives for a kiss?

  I caught the heavy handle on the front door, lifted, and threw it open.

  People milled about the courtyard between the castle and the main gates. The black-haired woman from last night lounged on the edge of the fountain, her smiling face upturned to the sun as a blue-skinned merrow played with her short hair.

  The air was overly warm, damp and close like the inside of a greenhouse. The long grass swaying outside the castle gates called to me like a siren’s song.

  Tadhg shouted my name as I passed a hulking black stallion with yellow eyes and two clurichauns pushing wheelbarrows of dirt-crusted root vegetables. The wards brushed my face, and then the coolness of the breeze kissed my cheeks. Bending in half, I braced my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath.

  There had to be a good explanation.

  Tadhg was good. Tadhg was kind. He wouldn’t kill anyone who didn’t deserve to die—

  A pair of scuffed boots appeared in my peripherals. When I raised my head, I met Tadhg’s concerned gaze.

  “Keelynn?” He reached for my shoulder, but I skirted away.

  When he touched me, I wasn’t able to think straight, and my mind was already muddled enough. “Why did you kill them?”

  His eyebrows drew together in confusion. How could he be confused? Surely he knew what I was talking about.

  “You have an entire room full of dead bodies!”

  His posture fell. “You know who I am,” he said, opening his empty hands and letting them fall. “You know what I’ve done. I’ve already told you—”

  All that was true, but there was something heavy and sobering about seeing the reality in the flesh. “Did all of those women force you to kiss them?”

  Tadhg’s hands flexed and jaw pulsed. “No. They didn’t.” His voice was as dead as those poor women.

  “Clara McNulty was a whore,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “Her life was shit, and she still had three years left in her contract. I kissed her so that she could be free. Orla Crowley was a fool and fancied herself in love with me. You see how that turned out. The barmaid from the Black Rabbit thought it’d be worth it. It wasn’t. The innkeeper from Newtown refused to let me leave the room. And you already know about Marina.”

  “What about Áine?”

  Tadhg winced. “Áine and I had an arrangement. I kept my end of the bargain, but she wanted more. And then she said that if I didn’t agree to the new terms, she’d slip poison into your wine.”

  He’d killed Áine to protect me? Of course he’d been protecting me.

  This was Tadhg. He was good. He was kind.

  Some people deserve to die.

  “In two hundred and fifty years, there have been seven hundred and eighty-eight bodies in those coffins,” he confessed. “I’ve tasted their last breaths. Held them in my arms as their souls left their bodies. Watched the light of life vanish from their eyes. And I remember every single one.”

  So many women. So many years lost. And for what?

  “Do you remember me?” a high, sing-song voice asked.

  My heart stopped beating. Tadhg’s head jerked up, and his eyes widened. I didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind me.

  It was Fiadh.

  34

  The black-haired witch stood in the center of the path leading to the castle, tapping her sharpened black nail against her pale cheek. Bloodred lips curled into a malicious smile as her soulless black eyes fixed on Tadhg. “It’s been too long, my love.”

  It felt like the castle walls had caved in on my chest. What had I done? We were outside the wards. Tadhg could evanesce to escape. But I was trapped.

  Tadhg swore and caught my hand, pulling me behind him.

  Fiadh’s head jerked to the side. “I see you met my human friend. She’s a dote, isn’t she? So young. So naïve.” A silver dagger appeared in her clenched fist. The green fields looked dull compared to the unearthly glow from the emerald in the hilt. “I’d thought her dead,” she said, the deranged smile overtaking her ethereal face, “but this is far more delicious.”

  Why wasn’t she angry? She should’ve been raging that I’d survived her attack.

  Tadhg’s shoulders stiffened. �
��Your fight is with me, not with her.”

  Fiadh’s head snapped to the other side. “Look who finally found someone he loves more than himself.” Pressing a hand to her chest, she sighed wistfully toward the darkening clouds. “If only our young friend’s weak human heart could love a murderous monster.” Her hair captured bits of grass along the ground as she sauntered toward us. Bare feet peeked from beneath her heavy green skirts.

  “Evanesce,” I whispered, clutching the back of Tadhg’s shirt. He was a prince, responsible for ruling all of Tearmann. I was nothing and no one. My life didn’t matter. Fiadh wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.

  Tadhg pulled from my hold and stepped toward Fiadh. The wind kicked up, fluttering his hair, uncovering the tips of his ears. “I am sorry for what happened all those years ago. I was young and foolish and too in love with myself to care about those I hurt. But this has gone on long enough.”

  Fiadh’s steps halted, and that crazed smile returned. “You’re sorry?” She adjusted her hold on the cursed dagger. “You think an apology can absolve you of all your sins?” Her shrill laugh made my legs go weak. “You took my life from me,” she hissed. “You made me what I am. This is all your fault.” The blade tap tap tapped against her thigh, the emerald growing brighter and brighter.

  Tadhg had lied and broken her heart, and he had spent the last two hundred and fifty years being punished for it. He was responsible for what he had done to her, but Fiadh was responsible for what she had done to others. She had let bitterness and rage consume her. Instead of rejecting the darkness, she had let it live inside her heart.

  I wanted to speak up, but someone had sewn my lips closed and stolen my air, and the pain in my chest was all consuming, and all I could do was watch as Fiadh’s black eyes left Tadhg and landed on me.

  “I’m calling in our bargain, girl,” she spat, motioning me forward.

  A bargain made when I thought I had nothing left to lose.

  Everyone has something to lose.

  Tadhg’s panicked gaze bounced between me and the witch. The bargain for the dagger and the ring hadn’t been the only one struck that fateful day.