Page 123 of Cursed
The conversation continues around us, but Landon’s fingers tighten around mine. He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Come with me. I have something for you.”
I follow him away from the group, curious as he leads me toward a secluded alcove tucked behind a curved wall of smoked glass. The space is intimate—a small seating area isolated from the main gathering, the city lights twinkling below us through floor-to-ceiling windows.
“What’s this about?” I ask as he guides me to sit on a low velvet couch.
Landon reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small black box. His usual confidence seems slightly tempered with a rare flicker of vulnerability.
“It’s been a year,” he says, his voice low. “A year since everything changed.”
He places the box in my palm. It’s heavier than I expected. When I open it, I find a sleek metallic object nestled against black velvet. At first glance, it resembles a stylish USB key. Still, I immediately recognize it’s far more sophisticated—matte black titanium with a subtle geometric pattern etched into its surface. The device is attached to a delicate platinum chain, and small diamonds are embedded along one edge, catching the light with every slight movement.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, lifting it from the box. “But what exactly is it?”
Landon takes it from my fingers, unclasping the chain. “It’s a master security key. Custom-designed, quantum-encrypted.” His eyes hold mine as he moves behind me to fasten it around my neck. “It grants you access to everything I own—all properties, accounts, systems.”
The key rests cool against my skin as I process his words.
“Total access,” he tells me, his fingers tracing the chain at the nape of my neck. “No more locked doors between us.”
I turn to face him, fully grasping the weight of this gesture. For Landon—a man who built walls and systems to keep every detail in check—this is the ultimate surrender.
“You’re giving me the keys to your kingdom,” I say softly, my fingers brushing the device.
“I’m giving you me,” he replies. “All of me.”
Landon’s lips find mine, and the world around us blurs.
“I’ve been thinking about returning to the Hunt all day,” he murmurs against my lips. “Remembering how you looked that first time in the sensory chamber.”
A shiver runs through me at the memory. My body responds instantly, a year of conditioning making me arch into his touch.
“So responsive,” he says, his fingers tracing patterns on my inner thigh. “Always so ready for me.”
I gasp as his touch becomes more deliberate. “Landon, we’re at a party.”
“In a private alcove,” he counters, his eyes darkening with desire. “But you’re right, little butterfly.” He pulls back, though his hand remains where it is. “We should save this for the Hunt. Seventy-two hours of just us. I want you ready for it, not sore before we begin.”
Despite his words, his fingers continue their slow torture, making me bite my lip to stay quiet.
“I’ve been planning this Hunt for months,” he says. “This time, you know exactly what you’re getting into.”
“This time I’m choosing it,” I manage. “Choosing you.”
His expression shifts—the hunter’s mask slipping to reveal the man beneath. “You’ve had a year to run, yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” I agree, cupping his face. “Because I love you, Landon.”
The words hang between us, and I watch his eyes—those calculating, intense eyes that once terrified me—soften with an emotion I never thought I’d see there.
“And I love you.” He says it simply, directly—Landon’s way. “More than I thought possible.”
This confession, more than any grand gesture, shows how far we’ve come. The man who once drugged me now freely gives me his heart.
One year ago, I was prey, running through corridors of darkness, hunted by a man who saw something in me I couldn’tsee in myself. Now I stand here not as captive, but as chosen equal—my scars worn like armor, his name carved into my flesh a testament to a journey I never could have imagined.
They say trauma shapes us like water shapes stone—grinding, wearing, until we’re unrecognizable from our former selves. But with Landon, I wasn’t eroded. I was revealed. Layer by layer, he peeled back my carefully constructed walls until all that remained was my truest self—dark, broken, and yet whole with him.
I once feared the darkness inside me. Now I dance within it, hand in hand with a man who cherishes my shadows as much as my light.
There is no fairy tale ending here. No prince who saved me, no monster who was tamed. Instead, there is truth—raw and unfiltered. Two broken people who found in each other’s jagged edges the perfect places to hold on.
Most would call what we have twisted. Perhaps it is. But in this twisted space I’ve found acceptance without condition, strength without compromise, and love without illusion.
I trace my fingers over his initials beneath my collarbone. What began as a mark of ownership has transformed into a reminder that sometimes we must be broken open to discover what lies beneath. That sometimes the darkest paths lead to the most profound light.
I am not the woman I was a year ago.
I am so much more.
And I choose this—all of it—with eyes wide open.