A Curse For Spring

by Amanda Bouchet

  The sorcerer in Upper Ash had given her the final ingredient to break the curse on Leathen, but it wasn’t a simple offering they had to make, as she’d originally suspected. It was a sacrifice. And whoever spoke the words to Braylian both gained exactly what they wanted, and lost what mattered most.

  “What’s turned you so silent?” Daric asked as they approached the treehouse.

  These past few nights in the sacred wood, they’d had somewhere more comfortable than the ground to sleep and more than a campfire to drive back the darkness. But they’d stayed in separate rooms, across a massive tree trunk from each other. Tonight, their last night before this quest likely ended, Rain would make sure they slept together.

  “I’ve just realized something.” She turned to Daric, his beloved features harder to look at suddenly. They burned through her, searing a scar across her heart. Winter-blue eyes, strong jaw, thick dark hair, that heavy lock always tumbling over one eyebrow. The way he looked at her… Rain dropped her gaze, trying to hide her sorrow.

  “Mockweed.” She grew a plant in the palm of her hand. “No need to go searching.”

  Daric grinned. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  She handed him the flower, not letting her return smile waver. “Keep it with the bloodstones. Tomorrow, we’ll find the Barrow Witch and break the curse together.”

  “It seems rather simple in the end, after all these years of doing nothing.”

  “Not nothing, Daric. Everything we could. And we only just received the clues pointing us in the right direction.” Rain forced now dreaded words around the rising lump in her throat. “There’s one more thing. A chant. I heard it from the sorcerer.”

  Daric’s brow furrowed. “In Upper Ash?”

  She nodded. “I kept it to myself because I didn’t understand it.”

  “And now you do? How? What is it?”

  Rain saw the confusion in his expression—and the hurt that she’d once again held back from him. “Isme dolunde vaten crew.” Her heart ached, pounding. “The more I use my power, the more I understand the language of sorcery.”

  Daric’s frown deepened. “What does it mean?”

  “It’s simply to formally present the bloodstones and the mockweed to Braylian.” The lie rose up in Rain and fell from her tongue like acid. “Harmless, but we need it along with the other things when we ask her to break the enchantment.”

  Daric tucked the plant she’d given him into his pouch, seeming less worried after her explanation. “Not sure why a goddess wants a weed, but magic is a strange business.”

  “It is,” Rain agreed. One that was tearing her apart, even as it made her stronger. “We’ll find the Barrow Witch. She’ll help us. You’ll say those four words tomorrow, Daric, and break the curse on Leathen. You’ve been working toward this your whole life.”

  He nodded, repeating those raw and awful magical words back to her. He knew them now and could utter them without trouble.

  A shadow crossed his features again as he watched her. “You look too somber for this happy news. We’re almost there, Rain. We’ve almost done it.”

  Somber didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. Understanding the sorcerer’s words had opened a chasm inside her and set her adrift. But Leathen would survive without her. The kingdom couldn’t survive without its prince.

  That conviction calmed her, left her resolute and sure of herself. “I want you to know that I would never, ever, have shown myself to you that day at the Cauldron if I hadn’t wanted to,” Rain said.

  Daric shrugged a little stiffly. “But you didn’t want this.” He waved a hand in the air, seeming to encompass him, her, Leathen… Everything.

  She thought back to that Time Before. Want hadn’t been a concept for a season, as far as she could recall. What a boring existence it must have been, with no one to talk to, nothing to discover, no desires or needs, no fears or pleasures.

  “The first time I remember wanting anything,” she told him in a voice thick with emotion, “was the day I saw you.”

  Daric looked at her gravely. He reached out, feathered his fingers across her cheek, and tucked her hair back. “You’re my every dream and desire.”

  Rain’s heart swelled to near bursting. She was done waiting. Done hoping. Done playing by Daric’s rules, because his weren’t the only ones that mattered. “Tomorrow, we save Leathen, but tonight is ours.”

  His eyes turned wary—and burning. “Raindrop?”

  “You secure the horses.” Rain slid from her saddle in front of the treehouse. “I’ll light the lamps in the room we’re sharing.”

  When Daric entered the room she’d chosen for the night, Rain had an almost worrying glint in her eyes and wore an expression that barely sidestepped aggressive.

  She held out her hand to him. Daric took it, and she tugged him closer.

  Her silver hair was down, cascading around her shoulders like a river. She’d even removed the starflower, which she’d worn every day and night of their journey. Her eyes flicked up, meeting his, and they were like dusk, both dark blue and on fire. A knot tightened in his chest. He loved her more than anything.

  She unclasped his cloak and began loosening the laces of his tunic.

  “Rain?” Daric’s mouth went dry, and his voice croaked like a lad’s. He ached from the need to touch her.

  “I’m counting on you to guide us, Daric. I mean… I understand the basics.”

  His pulse pounded, heavy with desire. There were four walls. A bed. Privacy, even from the stars above them. And Rain was making herself perfectly clear.

  He couldn’t resist smoothing his hands into her hair and weaving the silken strands between his fingers. “We have to break the curse first. We’ll be each other’s reward for saving Leathen.”

  “Right now, Daric, I need you more than Leathen does.”

  A wild burst of heat tore through him. He struggled against raw craving but felt his control slipping when Rain plucked at the laces of her tunic. The front gaped, revealing pale skin and the upper swells of her breasts, round and perfect.

  Daric stared, mesmerized. He was two ragged breaths from undressing her entirely. His hands slipped to her shoulders, half pushing the material off, half trying to keep it on her.

  “There could be consequences.” Daric’s hands flexed on her shoulders. “And if we fail, I’ll have to marry Astraea.” He already loathed the idea. Now, he could hardly contemplate it.

  Rain stepped back and took off her clothing piece by piece until she stood naked before him. She was exquisite, so unbearably tempting. She was everything he’d dreamed about and more. If anything, her skin was smoother and her body more made for worshipping than he’d even imagined. The sight of her before him like this would haunt him forever if they were forced to live out their lives separately.

  But then, as she backed right up against the bed she’d prepared for them, she made him a promise. “You won’t marry her. I won’t let that happen. Tomorrow, this ends forever.”

  She was the most glorious being he’d ever laid eyes on, powerful in ways he knew he’d never truly understand, and when she vowed with such absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have to marry Astraea, Daric believed her. And it freed him.

  His control evaporated. Rain was his. She always had been. Just as he was hers and would be forever.

  Daric stripped off his clothing, and the way Rain looked at him made him believe he might almost be worthy of the goddess before him. “I love you more than all the magic and might in Braylian’s Cauldron.”

  A shiver rippled over Rain, making her skin pebble with goose bumps and her nipples harden. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Daric believed that promise also.

  He would do everything in his power to deserve her and the love she offered. He hadn’t kissed Rain before for fear of losing his mind to wanting her, but he couldn’t deny her—or himself—any longer. His devotion had always been there, laid out at her fee
t. Now, he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life proving how wholly his heart belonged to her.

  Daric reached for her, that first touch of naked skin scalding and wonderful. His heartbeat accelerated. Rain wasn’t ignorant, even in sexual matters, but she had no experience. He knew he needed to be gentle and go slowly. Daric had little experience himself. He’d had exactly one encounter and had spent the entire time fantasizing about Rain, which had left him with a hollow feeling that lingered. Trying again had seemed pointless. Rain was the only woman he wanted.

  Daric dipped his head and kissed her neck and shoulder. He trailed his mouth toward her jaw, soft as a feather. Her pulse fluttered, and she gripped his arms, drawing him closer. Her short, quick breaths warmed his skin, and then their lips met for the first time ever.

  His blood ignited. With a deep rumble, Daric hauled her against him. Rain moaned into his mouth, her body scorching. She wrapped her arms around his neck and claimed him back, that first crush of lips hard, frantic, and intense enough to set alight the treehouse. Heat surged through him, stealing his breath, stiffening his cock, and setting his heart to pounding.

  She broke away with a gasp. Both their chests heaved. Their eyes met, and Rain’s gaze was hot enough to sear him to the bone and leave him in ashes. Daric swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed. She reached for him, and he stretched out beside her, pouring a lifetime of passion into every kiss and an eternity of want into the reverent way he touched her. Rain rolled toward him, nestling inward, and kissed him back with a fever that made him delirious. Daric rocked against her. A harsh breath groaned out of him. She was soft and smooth and hot as a bonfire.

  “I’ve dreamed of this so often,” he murmured between deep, soul-altering kisses.

  “I feel you pulsing against my belly,” she whispered.

  “I want you so much, I hurt.”

  Rain lifted her hips, pressing into him. “I want to help.”

  “You are.” He kissed her. He wanted to kiss her a thousand times for every beat of his heart. “You’re the ache and the cure.”

  Daric bent his head and nuzzled her breasts. His hands skimmed her ribs. Rain shuddered, breathing faster. Already drunk on the taste of her, Daric took her nipple into his mouth and gently sucked. She groaned, arching against him and tilting her head back, her hair like a cloud around them.

  Sensation rushed down his spine and flooded his groin. Everything tightened. His heart hammered and Daric pulled back, his jaw clenching. He let out a slow, shuddering breath and moved his hand down Rain’s body. He needed to bring her pleasure now, because he had no illusions about how long he would last once she was beneath him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rain stopped moving and held her breath when Daric’s hand drifted between her legs and he touched her where they would soon connect. She knew the basics about coupling. She’d seen animals mate—dogs and horses didn’t care about privacy—and she’d seen servants kissing when they thought no one was looking. She hadn’t known, though, that a man stroked a woman like he was playing an instrument, and that it was fantastic.

  Rain gasped and quivered at his light, exploring touches and then moaned and sought firmer contact when his fingers turned bolder and more adept. Heat coursed through her body, increasing with every kiss and caress. She ground against his hand, tension gathering like a whirlwind inside her.

  A deep groan resonated in Daric’s chest. His tongue tangled with hers, and Rain thought she might fly apart under the mounting pressure. Every movement they made was instinctual. She knew the steps without thinking. It was the hottest, wildest dance of her existence, and she wanted it to last forever.

  Daric stroked her inside and out and then slipped and slid his fingers over a spot that made bright bolts of pleasure arc through her like lightning.

  “Am I doing this right?” he asked, sipping kisses from her lips and drinking her breath in.

  Rain arched off the bed, clutching his shoulders. “Yes! Don’t stop!”

  He kept going, and Rain shattered apart. Her cry was silent, or perhaps deafening. She tensed as a breathtaking climax pulsed through her in waves and then sank into the bedding, boneless and floating.

  Daric moved over her, and she felt his hard tip gently prod her opening. She tilted toward him. Daric closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were as dark as the night sky and stark with intensity.

  He brushed a warm, coaxing hand down her body before guiding her knees higher around him. In a strained whisper, he rasped, “Steady, darling. This may not be comfortable.”

  Rain nodded. “I know it’s only the first time, and only for a moment.” She was well aware of rumors concerning lovemaking, especially for virgins, but so far, everything she’d heard had underrated the act tremendously.

  Daric’s expression held a wealth of tenderness and the promise of scorching encounters for years to come. Rain wanted nothing more. Her prince. A lifetime together. Children. Love. If only that were possible.

  She blocked those thoughts, refusing to give them power. Their future heartbreak had no place here—not when Daric was slowly pushing inside her. Sensations rioted through her, some pleasant, some not. She inhaled deeply, trying to relax. She wasn’t afraid, but her muscles stayed taut.

  Daric took her head in his hands, holding her steady. As he looked down at her, the discomfort gradually faded.

  Rain gave him an encouraging smile. “I’m fine, Daric. It’s all right.”

  “This won’t last long.” He kissed her before he started moving. “Next time, I’ll do better.”

  Rain nodded. She understood, and she was ready.

  Daric’s measured movements quickly became unsteady. He thrust faster, harder, and then he shuddered. He groaned her name as he stiffened all over, the sound seeming to tear straight from the center of his body.

  Rain clung to him, so close she could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat. They stayed joined, Daric surrounding her. Their lips brushed and pressed, and she wrapped herself around him, as elated as she was devastated. She wanted to remember the feel of him. His weight. The love in his eyes. The way he kissed and touched her. Memories to take on a journey into eternity.

  “Again,” she murmured, her voice nearly breaking.

  Daric gazed down at her, already hardening once more inside her. Locking eyes with her, he began moving, and what started as gentle worshipping slowly turned into fierce possession—and both were exactly what she needed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daric awoke euphoric after his night with Rain. Everything was finally coming together. Everything he wanted and needed was within reach. Even the Barrow Witch was as easy to find as they’d hoped. She was their age, not at all insane yet, and willing to help. In fact, the slender woman with rosy cheeks and dark hair had been waiting for them. She’d studied magic under the sorcerer who’d found Rain in Upper Ash. Together, the two of them had discovered the way to break the curse.

  The witch invited them inside her home—one of the large earthen mounds dotting the forest not far from Braylian’s Cauldron—and as he and Rain took a seat at the Barrow Witch’s table, Daric wondered if Rain would eventually suffer the dire consequences of using magic. She’d never mentioned it and didn’t seem worried, but she’d also hidden her power from him until now. He’d guessed at it without ever guessing the extent of it. Now that he knew, thoughts of the illness of the mind that ultimately plagued all sorcerers haunted him.

  Daric glanced at Rain as she described their journey to the witch, who listened with avid interest. Rain’s magic didn’t require chants and ingredients. It was simply a part of her. He hoped that would make a difference.

  While Rain spoke, Daric laid out the pieces they’d gathered. The mockweed was withering but still hearty enough, and the bloodstones glinted dully in the weak light filtering in through the open doorway of the barrow. The witch’s home was tidy, if austere. And, he imagined, very cold in winter. He saw no remnants of the ancie
nt culture that had built these mounds as burial grounds, either time or the witch having swept the barrow clean of the bones and ghosts that had once occupied it.

  “I’m glad you listened to my mentor and came to me,” the Barrow Witch said. “Most people would have shunned him. You did not, and for that, we can all be grateful.”

  “We have everything your teacher mentioned,” Daric said. “You’re the final piece of this puzzle.”

  She reached out and reverently touched the gems they’d brought. “Bloodstones. The curse is strong, but the Blood of Braylian is stronger. And you have two crystals, which is impressive.” She gave them an assessing look, as though she might know what the Cave Witch had put them through with her enchantment.

  “And the mockweed?” Rain asked. “We don’t know its purpose.”

  “Mockweed, when combined with other curse-breaking elements, reveals the face of the person who cast the spell to begin with.” She turned to Daric. “You’ll finally know who cursed you.”

  “Me?” He frowned. “Leathen was cursed, so that spring wouldn’t come here.”

  “In this case, you and Leathen are synonymous. But no—you were cursed as an infant. I can see it in your aura.”

  Daric’s initial confusion swiftly turned to rage. He knew who’d visited Leathen shortly after his birth, a cold queen who’d looked upon his cradle with her snakelike smile in place as she’d struck.

  “Illanna Nighthall did this.” His fists clenched in fury. “And then she slowly drained Leathen of riches and resources until its coffers were as dried up as the soil, and we had no choice. The marriage…” He looked at Rain, seeing his own horror reflected in her eyes.

  “Astraea is only six months older than you are.” Rain’s face leached of color. Even her lips looked bloodless. “Her mother planned this from the start!”

  “Who else? She choked us in exchange for water and bread. Bought our orin mines. Took our wealth. And when we had no other options left, she arranged for a marriage that would give her grandchildren two kingdoms with only the Nighthall name attached.” Daric let out a bitter laugh. “I will punish Raana for this.”