Page 35 of A Cursed Bite (Bound to the Enduar #1)

VANN

T he rain slows, but it does not stop. Heavy drops patter against the thick canopy above in a rhythmic beat that mingles with the distant roar of the sea.

The trees here are ancient, and their vast, gnarled trunks twist into the ground, roots coiling over one another like serpents. Their fan-like leaves spread wide, forming a dense ceiling that provides some relief from the downpour.

Mist curls through the undergrowth, carrying the mingled scents of damp earth, salt, and the sharp tang of something unfamiliar.

I stand at the edge of the tree line, staring out at the ocean. The waves are still violent, rolling and crashing against jagged cliffs, their white froth building over the sand.

I watch the water for a long time, lost in the rhythm of the storm. It seems to match the chaos inside me.

Since we’d gotten here I’d kissed Arlet. Held her. Been half mad with worry.

And… I’m not in pain. Haven’t been for the last day. Something is wrong.

Behind me, Arlet tends to Seraph. She runs her hands along the dragon’s golden scales, whispering words too quiet for me to hear. The beast exhales deeply, shifting her weight, her massive wings tucking closer to her body.

I take the packs from her leg, and return to the tree line. The underbrush of the jungle is dense, forcing me to hack through it with my cleaver.

Ferns as large as shields fan out before me, slick with moisture. Vines coil around the trees, some sprouting luminous flowers that pulse faintly like captured light. The land rises unevenly, jagged stone ridges carved by time and wind. Massive boulders, covered in moss, dot the landscape too.

Behind me, I hear Arlet’s soft steps through the underbrush.

There’s a brief pause, then she says, “Is—are we going to be okay?”

I can hear the uncertainty in her tone and imagine the tension in her twisting hands even without seeing them.

I glance over my shoulder and meet her eyes.

“Yes. We’re together, Arlet. That’s what matters."

A smile tugs at her lips. I turn fully toward her now, taking her hand. I pull her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her head rests against my chest, and I feel her breath steady.

“Vann, I need to tell you something.”

I still. “All right.”

“I’ve never had something like this before, you know,” she says. “And I just want to say that maybe I had been too focused on the wrong things. Matehood?—”

She stops, and my nostrils flare.

“I just want you to know I am happy to have this. With you. Here.” Her hand trails over my chest. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you. Please tell me if I touch you too often, I know I can be greedy.”

I sigh.

“Asking for what you need is not greedy. And I am happy to be here with you too.”

As I hold her, guilt hits me again—buried, but still there.

“She was your mate? ”

“Yes, she was.”

After what we’d done the other night, I owed Arlet the truth about Adra. But maybe… not right now.

So I bury my feelings, just for a little while longer, because she needs me.

We are so close to finding the witches, to curing her, and going home.

“Want to help me set up?” I say softly, my voice a low murmur in the still air.

She smiles up at me and nods.

I squeeze her hand and guide her over to where I’ve cleared a space for our tent.

One of the poles has broken on our long journey and she sets off to find a replacement while I finish reinforcing the leather. Later, after she’s returned and everything is arranged as well as it can be in the muggy weather, she starts cooking, and I turn to my pack.

I pull out the map from Selric, spreading it on my bedroll to prevent it from getting too wet. The ink is faded, but the markings are still clear. I trace the lines with my finger, calculate distances, and mentally map the terrain.

I mark the island I think we’ve landed on, just off the coast of the Witch’s Isle.

“Good news. We’re not far,” I say.

Her face lights up. “Really?”

I nod, showing her where I think we’ve landed, and then I trace the distance to the next island.

“Seraph should be fine to fly tomorrow,” she says. “I think she’s mostly weary from how hard we pushed ourselves yesterday.”

I agree quietly as Arlet hands me a plate of preserved mushrooms and meat from Dragon’s Reach. We eat in relative silence, and then we head into the tent I’ve prepared.

We lie down together, and, despite the heat, I pull Arlet close. She doesn’t protest

“Good night, Mi Cielo ,” she murmurs.

“Your sky?” I ask, curious and slightly starved for her conversation .

She smiles. “Yes. But for my people… it’s a bit more like, darling. It can be affectionate. Or sarcastic.”

I laugh. “Which one would you use for me?”

She turns. “Both.” Then she kisses me.

It’s soft. Slow. Gentle.

The jungle outside is alive with sounds, but inside the tent, we’re in our own world. Nothing more happens after the kiss and she falls asleep first, as she often does. I focus on the steady sound of her breathing as my mind races.

What we shared two nights ago had not been trivial. It had marked a colossal shift in my heart. It was the first time I’d been with a woman in so long, and it had been unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I crave it—crave her.

I want to see her arch into my touch and cry out.

But we need to sleep. And more than that… I don’t deserve to have her under me until I tell her the truth.

Soon.

For tonight, rest.

Not long after we fall asleep, the calm is broken. The sound of movement breaks through the quiet—a rustle in the underbrush, followed by a low growl.

My eyes snap open, looking down at the woman in my arms. Arlet is still sleeping, with no signs of any disturbance.

Ugh. For fuck’s sake, what now?

I am, quite literally, exhausted. Everything feels slower. More sluggish.

Hopefully, this is just an animal.

I reach for a knife while I hold my breath, listening.

There is definitely movement—heavy, deliberate, footsteps. Leaves shaking against each other outside our space.

Something distorts my hearing, so I creep to the front of the tent to inspect the scene. Except, the second I come into view, a thick hand grabs me .

Before I can protest, a sharp, numbing wave of magic courses through me, I feel my limbs lock, my senses fade, and my last thought is of Arlet.

Then everything goes black.