Page 51 of A Castle of Broken Memories

Jack’s hand covered mine, his voice gentle. “So you said before, many times, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

I made a face. “We’re trapped in a cursed castle. Where else would you go?”

He tipped my chin up, and I leaned into the warmth of his palm as it caressed my face. “You know what I mean. We’ve both done things we regret. Changed in ways we never expected.” He gave me a wry smile. “Do you have any idea how close I’ve come to punching Tenebris in the face? Even when he’s just sitting quietly I have to fight the urge to pummel him. There’s just this… this anger that always seems to be simmering beneath my skin, and I have to physically stop myself from acting on it. I never used to feel that way before.”

“Hey, you actually called him Tenebris,” I whispered, the corner of my mouth creeping up.

He let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “See? People can change. We’re finally together again, Mari. Nothing you said or did before coming here is going to scare me away. I’m yours to do with as you please.”

I swallowed, my entire body heating beneath his gaze. “You really are whipped, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, his forehead tipping down to rest against mine. “I really, truly am.”

And then he kissed me, and my fate was sealed. Because once again, I knew: there was only one thing I needed in this life, and he was standing right in front of me, free for the taking. And fuck me if I wasn’t going to claim him.

And never, ever let go again.

31

“Ahem.”

Harp’s lyrical voice rang with amusement as she interrupted our moment. “Were you planning to wake me before or after you made love on my stage?”

I flushed. “We weren’t going to…” I glanced at Mariana, whose cheeks were turning the most enticing shade of pink. I swallowed the urge to kiss them while I amended, “…that is, not right here, anyway.”

“And hopefully not until that nasty cut on her back has been tended to,” Harp added, a note of reproval underscoring her previous amusement.

Shit. I’d almost forgotten about that.

“Jack mentioned you were handy with a needle,” Mariana spoke up. “Any chance you’d do the honors?”

Harp’s expression relaxed into a sweet smile. “Of course I will. Jack, if you could fetch my sewing box? Oh, and some of that soft cotton I keep in the drawer beside it.”

“I thought your dresser was spelled to bring you whatever you needed,” I teased, already pushing aside the heavy, red curtains that separated the front semi-circle from the rest of the stage. Off to the left, out of sight in the wing, was a tall chestnut bureau.

Harp’s voice brimmed with levity when it floated back to me. “It is, but I felt you deserved a bit of punishment for putting the moves on this poor woman while she’s in need of medical attention. Really, Jack. Poorly done.”

“On the contrary, Harp,” I called back, procuring the items from the top drawer. “My kisses are never poorly done.”

Twin groans from the other side of the curtains made me grin, and I added an exaggerated swagger to my walk when I returned. “One sewing box and a wad of cotton, as per your request, Madam.” I rubbed the fluffy material between my fingers. “Although I’m not entirely sure what you need this for.”

“That,” Harp stated, plucking the box from my hand. “Is for you.”

“Sorry, what now?”

“For your ears,” Harp clarified, motioning for Mariana to take off her cloak. “You’ll need it to block out my music. Unless, of course, you wish to take a nap?”

“What are you talking about?” Mariana asked, looking back and forth between me and Harp.

“My music is enchanted,” Harp explained. “And my lullabies are particularly potent. You’ll be sleeping like a baby while I stitch you up, no added pain necessary. Didn’t Jack say as much when he suggested I do it?”

I wiped a hand over my face, feeling like a prime idiot. “I didn’t know.”

“How is that even possible?” Harp scoffed. “I’ve used it on you twice before.”

Heat creeped up the back of my neck. “Honestly? I kinda thought I’d passed out at the sight of the needle. Good to know my fortitude isn’t as weak as I thought.”

Mariana snorted, but then balked when Harp drew a shiny, silver needle from the sewing box and began threading it. “You know I am a werewolf,” she hedged, warily eyeing the needle’s sharp tip. “I probably don’t even need stitches. We heal crazy fast on our own.”