Page 9

Cursed, Indeed

W armth surrounded River on all sides. A thick comforter was drawn up to her neck, and she was cozy. The air was heavy with the scent of almond and cedar, tinged with a hint of fresh air, like the calm before a storm.

Something deep and primal within her calmed at the scent, but she wasn’t prepared to unpack what that meant. For one thing, this didn’t seem like the right moment. For another, she didn’t know where she was. She remembered running from the hospital, the storm pouring out of her, but after that…

Oh, gods. She covered her face with her hands and moaned. She’d gone to Nikhail for help. In the moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she was second-guessing herself. What kind of impression had she left? What did he think of her?

She didn’t remember anything that was said—it was all a blur of rain and wind and danger. But she remembered the way he’d held her close, the way she’d gripped his chest, as if he were the only thing keeping her upright …

Heat burned her cheeks, and she slowly lowered her hands from her eyes. A pillow slid off the bed, hitting the floor as she took in her surroundings.

Well, one thing was certain: this wasn’t her place.

For one thing, her tiny studio apartment, conveniently located near the hospital, didn’t have a king-sized bed.

For another, the blazing fire in the brick hearth was unfamiliar.

It wasn’t unwelcome—the crackling logs and warmth were a pleasant change from the dampness that had settled in her bones last night—but it was different.

Masculine touches were everywhere she looked. Sturdy walnut furniture was paired with heavy blackout curtains. The fluffy comforter was a forest green. A charcoal rug covered the dark hardwood floor.

River pushed herself up, noting the mountain of pillows at her back, before glancing down and confirming she was still in her pink scrubs. They had dried into a wrinkly mess, but it was nothing a wash cycle couldn’t fix. Her ponytail had come loose overnight, and she tugged off the elastic.

Her gaze rose to the closet. The door was open, revealing suits and dress shirts hanging in neat rows. Polished shoes were lined up beneath them, and a display of meticulously organized ties was spread along the back wall.

If this were a guest room, she’d expect the closet to be empty or filled with knick-knacks.

Which meant this was…

Heavy footsteps shuffled in the hallway outside, and River shifted her attention from the closet to the door. Drawing the blanket up under her armpits, she secured it with her arms as a knock came from the door.

“River?” Nikhail’s voice was low on the other side of the door. “I heard a noise. Are you awake? ”

Was she awake? Yes. Was she ready to talk to him? No.

The longer River looked around the space, the more clues she found that led her to believe that this wasn’t just some guest room.

A framed picture on the mantle showed Nikhail surrounded by three other women. His family, by the looks of them. An ornate pair of golden cufflinks sat next to the clock on the dresser. The navy blue slippers on the carpet near the foot of the bed were worn.

No, she was certain this wasn’t just some guest room. This was Nikhail’s room, and she was in his bed.

Of all the places River had expected to find herself this morning, this wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but judging by the exhaustion in her bones and her simmering magic, she’d depleted herself and passed out.

After the Incident, River had slept for a week. Ryker told her several doctors had come to check on her, and they’d all said the same thing: She was fine. It was just magical depletion, and she’d wake up when her body was ready.

River twisted the bedsheet in her fingers, staring at the shadows under the door. Nikhail was out there, waiting for her.

Why didn’t he just leave her on the couch? That would’ve been fine. But this…

She didn’t know what to do with this. Why did he put her in his bed? What did it mean?

Maybe he was just being kind because she was Ryker’s sister. Maybe he meant nothing by it, and she was just having anxious, unfounded thoughts. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

A byproduct of often being alone meant that River was prone to overthinking things. Catastrophizing was basically a hobby of hers at this point.

Sometimes, her anxiety got the better of her and served up a slew of horrible circumstances, each worse than the last.

Whether or not she was overthinking things, River was certain about one thing.

If Ryker ever found out that she’d spent the night in his best friend’s bed, he’d have a conniption.

It wouldn’t matter that Nikhail hadn’t been in bed with her.

Luckily for River—and Nikhail’s face—Ryker wasn’t here. He was in Golden City with his wife.

In the end, she realized she couldn’t keep Nikhail waiting. She’d have to face him at some point, especially since this was his room. He’d already done so much for her, and she didn’t want to put him out any longer.

Crossing her legs and sitting up straighter, she ran her fingers through her hair. It was tangled and in desperate need of a brushing. She gave up after a few moments, throwing it up in a messy bun.

“I’m awake,” she called out.

The door creaked open, and Nikhail stood in the threshold.

He wore a pair of black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a loose navy tie that was hanging around his neck.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and by the Sands, his forearms had no right being so attractive.

He held two black mugs, one in each hand, and his lips hitched up when he saw her.

Those amber eyes of his smoldered, the look meant to draw her in. Too bad he was strictly off-limits. She dug her fingers into the mattress, reminding herself that she could look at him, but she couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t have him.

It wasn’t just because he was her brother’s best friend, although that certainly was a contributing factor. Long ago, River had decided that she wasn’t fit for relationships. Allowing herself to get close to people was dangerous.

Not for her, but for them.

Last night was the perfect example. Her curse was destructive and unpredictable.

One slip-up, one moment where she lost control, and she could hurt the people she cared about.

She could kill them. That wasn’t something she could live with.

Especially if that someone was Nikhail. Hurting anyone would be awful, but if it were him…

No .

The word echoed through River’s mind, and she sucked in a breath, forcing herself to turn away from those thoughts. She couldn’t think about that, couldn’t let herself ruminate on the danger of what coursed through her veins. Doing so would lead to nothing good.

As if he knew that panic was currently sweeping through River’s mind, Nikhail stepped into the room.

“Morning.” His deep voice sent bolts of heat past River’s navel, and she had to remind her treacherous body that this man was forbidden.

“Morning, Nik.” She looked around the room, her gaze landing anywhere but on him.

She wasn’t entirely sure how to tackle the question of her sleeping arrangement—how did one politely ask, Why am I in your bed?

— so she decided to skip right over it. “Thank you for helping me last night.” She met his gaze, digging her fingers into the comforter. “If you hadn’t been there…”

Endless, turbulent waves. Screams. Magic, pouring from her veins.

And death.

So much death. Countless lives lost. Souls that came to an untimely end because she lost control, and her magic went into a frenzy.

Even though River had expelled an enormous amount of power last night, her magic was still slumbering within her. It was a beast that never hibernated, a candle that could not be extinguished. It was always there. Always watching. Always waiting.

A familiar sense of unease stirred within River as she studied her magic. The curse stretched its watery limbs, testing the walls of the dam she’d shoved it behind last night after calming the storm. Frowning, she added more bricks, rebuilding the barrier as best she could.

My magic does not control me. It is a tool I’ve been given. I control it .

The mantra held more power today than it had last night, and her magic settled.

Nikhail’s long legs ate up the distance between the door and the bed. He moved with a grace that she’d rarely seen, even among fae. “Helping you was my pleasure, River.”

A shiver crawled down her spine at the sound of her name from his mouth. Gods, it sounded so good. Like it belonged there. Between his forearms, amazing scent, and now this, the universe was surely testing her resolve to keep Nikhail at arm’s length.

Unaware of where her mind had gone, which was probably a good thing, he extended a mug towards her. “Coffee?”

“Gods, yes, please.” She sounded desperate, but what was desperation when caffeine was being offered? This was exactly what she needed. Coffee made her feel normal, which was a sensation she rarely enjoyed.

River took the proffered mug, her brows raising at the milky brown liquid. It wasn’t too dark or too light. She took a sip, and it was…

“Perfect.” She couldn’t keep the shock from her voice, even if she tried. The coffee wasn’t too hot or too cold, nor was it too bitter or too sweet. “I couldn’t have made it better myself.”

Nikhail pulled over a chair and sat next to the bed. Placing one leg on the ground, he crossed the other and rested his ankle on his knee.

He shrugged. “I noticed what you drank the last time we had breakfast at Ryker and Brynleigh’s.”

Her gaze dropped to the brown liquid, then returned to his. “But that was months ago.”