Page 29 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

I barely recognize the girl in the mirror—not because of the scar that hooks around my eye but because I never bothered with

mirrors after moving into the Midnight Palace. I’m no longer the person I was when Brie brought me here, and I’m no longer

the person who ran away to hunt down Mordeus.

I sweep my hair off my neck to tie it back. The undercut Skylar gave me grew out while I was sleeping and is several inches

long now. I should have her cut it again. Or maybe I shouldn’t bother. I can’t kill Erith for Kendrick, and when I lost the

sword I lost my only way to get to Mordeus. I have six days and a power I don’t understand. A power that’s going to allow

Mordeus to steal my body and my life for good.

I’m still staring at my reflection when I hear a soft knock on the door and the sound of it sweeping open.

Kendrick strides into the room, but his steps falter when he spots me. “What are you doing?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek and shrug. “I wondered if I stared at my reflection long enough, if I might see him in there.”

His shoulders sag, and pity etches lines around his mouth.

“I don’t think he’s moved in just yet. They said that he won’t fully possess your body until he commands the power of your phoenix.

Now that the ring isn’t part of the equation, he doesn’t have the same kind of access to you as he did before. You are you , Jas.”

I bow my head. “Except when I’m not.”

“Look at me.” He pads softly across the room and gently cups my face. “You’re here with me right now. He’s not.”

Kendrick’s eyes are such a pure light blue they remind me of the sky on a perfectly clear summer day. All sunshine. No darkness

looming in nearby clouds. “For now,” I answer.

He drops his hand and studies me. “Now is all we can control anyway.”

I swallow. “Did you tell your friends? About Erith? About how I lost the sword?”

He nods, stress tugging on his features.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“We’ll figure it out.” Kendrick pulls me out of the chair and draws me against his chest.

I let myself melt into him. His breath is warm in my hair and his heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek.

“I still can’t quite believe you’re here,” he says, hands splayed wide across my back. “For months, I couldn’t think about

anything but finding you, and then we did and you were barely hanging on. Burning up with fever, delirious. I’d finally found

you and was sure I was going to lose you again.”

The knot in my chest pulls tighter, and I bow my head. I swallow the lump in my throat. I won’t remind him what’s coming.

Not when we just had this conversation a few hours ago.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says. When I don’t reply, he tilts my face up until my gaze meets his. “Please?”

“I’m just glad I’m here with you.” It’s true, even if it’s not the whole truth.

His gaze drops to my mouth. Lingers there for so long my heart tugs toward him like a magnetic force.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How amazing it feels to have you here.”

“Even though I’ve ruined so much?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“The sword? My utter failure to kill Erith? The way I’ve practically handed Mordeus the keys to my sister’s court?”

“None of that is your fault.”

I swallow. They keep saying that, but surely they can see as clearly as I can that my decisions got us here. “I’m going to

fix it. Somehow.”

He strides across the room to the chaise in the corner, where he unbuckles his bandolier of knives and drapes them over the

back of the chair.

“What are you doing?”

He shucks off his boots and tucks them neatly by the wall. “I’m sleeping here. You don’t have to share your bed, but I’m staying

close.”

He peels off his shirt and folds it, and I try not to stare at all that beautiful tan skin, but my eyes seem to have a mind

of their own. I remember the warmth of that skin. How it felt under my hands.

“We’ve shared a bed before,” I tell him. “I know you can’t remember.”

He catches me staring and returns to my side. “I might not have access to the memory, but I wrote about it in my journal.” He skims his thumb over my bottom lip. “How it felt to touch you, to hold you. Then you left me. You believed the worst and left me.”

I draw in a ragged breath. “I was hurt and scared.”

“I should be the one you run to when you’re hurt and scared. Not the one you flee.”

I want to kiss him so badly, but even though the ring no longer endangers him, I don’t know if I should. I don’t know if I

have any right to his kisses—not when I’ll be gone so soon and when he’s to marry someone else. His queen.

Instead, I lift my hand to his bare chest and press my palm against the comforting rhythm of his beating heart. “I feel well.

You don’t need to worry that I’ll fall sick again in the night.”

His full lips twist into a smirk. “You think that’s why I don’t want to leave your side?” With a single step back, he drags his gaze over me, from my head all the way down to

my bare toes.

I’m acutely aware of the thin material of my sleeping gown, of the way he could see nearly everything if the light hit me

right.

His ice-blue eyes darken. He takes a lock of my loose hair, sliding it between two fingers. “I just got you back. Nothing

short of an act of the gods is going to tear me from your side tonight.” His throat bobs. “Unless you don’t want me here.”

I lift my hand to his wrist and lean into his touch. “I want you here.”

“I was so afraid I’d never see you again.” He searches my face. “I was afraid I’d never be able to tell you how I feel.”

I press my fingers to his lips and shake my head. “Don’t. Don’t say it now. Not until there’s... a reason.”

He snaps his teeth playfully, nipping at my fingertips. “I have more reasons than I can count.” He bends, trailing soft, toe-curling

kisses down the side of my neck. “Let me say it,” he murmurs in my ear. “I need to tell you.”

Suddenly my eyes burn. “Why bother with words that promise a future we can’t have?”

“You don’t know that. We are going to find a way to reclaim the life you traded.”

“Kendrick.” I hold his face in my hands, relishing the feel of his short beard beneath my fingertips. “Even if we do, you

are going to be the next Eloran king. You will spend your life with the next Eloran queen. Save your pretty words for her.”

Something flashes in his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t cheapen this by pretending I can pass it off to the next person. I feel what I feel for you . No one else.”

I shrug and step away, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me back. When he crashes his mouth down on mine and plunges his hands

in my hair, I’m right there with him, angling my mouth under his, pushing onto my toes to get closer, as close as I can.

He smells like the clear night sky, like the night he took me in his arms and flew me to safety, and he tastes like wine.

I part my lips and skim my tongue against his bottom lip, relishing the groan that vibrates in his chest. His hand drops to

my waist, squeezing and pulling me closer.

As he deepens the kiss, I let myself remember our night together in Ironmoore, the way his lips felt on my heated skin, the pleasure of his hand between my legs.

How desperately I wanted his mouth on mine.

I want to re-create the kiss we couldn’t have that night, but this kiss can’t be the same.

This is so much more because so much has changed.

Because even if he doesn’t want to admit it, we’re running out of time.

This kiss is a promise, an oath that he will keep me here by sheer will alone.

Gripping my hips, he lifts me onto the vanity, sending bottles and pots crashing to the floor, his mouth never leaving my

skin as he steps between my legs, the heat of his bare chest seeping through my thin gown. I let the world fall away, become

sensation, aware of nothing more than the scrape of his callused fingers, the heat of his breath, the soft press of his lips.

Across my clavicle, along the top of my sleeping gown, over the ribbon between my breasts.

When he pulls away, he closes his eyes and touches his forehead to mine.

“What are we doing?” I ask, chest still heaving, as if I haven’t bothered to breathe for the last two minutes. I squeeze my

eyes shut. “This isn’t right.”

“Before you were back in my life, nothing felt right. When I touch you, it’s the only thing that does.”

I trail my fingertips across his forehead and along the tattooed crown he keeps glamoured away. “Why hide this now that I

know?”

He takes a beat before answering, as if trying to pull himself together.

“It draws too much attention. The glamour wasn’t about deceiving you.

” He cups my face and traces my jaw with his thumb.

“I wish I’d handled it all differently. Not just you but.

.. my sister. I’ve always been so sure I was making the best choices, but now I feel like I was a fool for thinking I knew enough to lead my realm into a new era. Maybe it was never meant to be me.”

There’s a lump in my throat. I hate that his feelings for me have made him doubt himself. “When did you get it?” I ask. “I

mean, you didn’t always know you’d be king.”

“It appeared after the oracle told me. But now...” He shakes his head.

“Now what?”

He steps out from between my legs and gently helps me off the vanity and back to my feet. I don’t take my eyes off him, but

don’t rush him to speak either. He studies the mess on the floor and sighs. “Now it’s fading, and I’m not sure what that means.”

“Do the others know?”

“Natan, Remme, and Skylar do. They know almost everything relating to the throne.” He stoops down and begins picking up the

bottles of tonics and pots of face creams, placing each carefully back in their space. “Crissa was the first queen the oracle

named in centuries, and I was the first king. My job was to protect her, and I’ve failed in that. I can’t even find her.”

“You used a tracking spell to find me. Have you tried one for her?” It hurts to ask, and that hurt makes me mad at myself.

Why does it matter that Crissa will be his queen when I won’t be around much longer anyway? Crissa deserves someone amazing

to protect her, to live by her side and give her a good life. Kendrick saved me in those dungeons, but I wouldn’t have been

around to be saved if Crissa hadn’t been there first.

“I don’t have anything of hers to do it.”

“Like what?”

“For Felicity, we used the blood that was on the clothes she wore when she was looking for the Hall of Doors. Of course, she wasn’t here or in Elora, and when we started checking other realms the blood wasn’t fresh enough to be as effective.

Misha was instrumental in bringing her back.

I don’t even like to think about the number of minds he broke into to track her down. ”

“What did you use to find me?”

“We used the blood you left on my pants the last time you visited me.” He frowns and finally looks at me again. “What was

that from?”

I let out a shaky breath as I remember the wolpertinger fighting back, spikes tearing into my hand. “The creature I used to

overcome the sickness from the ring.”

He nods, but I can tell his thoughts are somewhere else. In Elora, perhaps, or perhaps with the oracle. “It’s not impossible

to track someone without their blood, but we haven’t been successful.”

He turns to the bed and pulls back the covers. “You should get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.” He nods toward the

chair.

“Kendrick...” I don’t know what I want to say. That I want him to share the bed with me? That I changed my mind and maybe

being together isn’t a mistake? That I hope he finds his queen? None of that is a lie, but none of it is fully true either.

“I’ve not been fair to you,” he says, voice raspy. “I won’t be asking for anything you aren’t ready to give.” When he turns

to me, there’s so much sadness in his eyes. So much sadness that I’m responsible for. And I’m only going to bring him more.

“Get some sleep, Slayer. The sun will rise again tomorrow,” he says, but for the first time there’s no conviction in those

words.