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AVERY

I didn’t know how to feel as Saint and I made our way past our table—where everyone was staring at us wide-eyed—and back down to the Norm Dorm.

Yet another disaster with his Drake had been narrowly averted.

For a minute there, I had been certain he was going to come out and fry Juan Gonzales like bacon in a pan.

Thankfully, I had managed to talk him down—but how many more times could I do that? And what happened when we reached a point where his cursed Drake wouldn’t listen to me anymore?

Also, I couldn’t help thinking about the things Saint’s father had said—mostly how he had claimed that Saint only cared for me because his Drake was cursed and if the curse was lifted, Saint would lose his feelings for me immediately.

And what about those feelings? When Saint’s father had accused him of being a “man-lover”, Saint had agreed that he was.

But he had also said that he knew what he was doing was “wrong and unnatural.” What the hell was that all about?

It seemed like he thought he was going to Hell for loving me, but he felt like he couldn’t help himself so he was going anyway.

That just seemed wrong to me. I knew a lot of people felt that way—my own father did for one.

But my wonderful mom had raised me to believe I was a good person and worthy of love and affection—not eternal damnation, just because of my orientation.

It seemed that Saint didn’t feel that way, however.

We would really have to talk about that.

The minute we got down to the Norm Dorm, he pulled me onto one of the worn blue couches and held me close. Pressing his face to my hair, he breathed me in as though he could never get enough of me.

“Avery,” he murmured, nuzzling the side of my neck, his breath hot and ticklish against my skin so that I shivered a little. “Oh, mi Corazon, I’m never letting you go! No one can take you from me as long as I hold you safe in my arms.”

While I loved having contact with my man, I really felt like we needed to talk.

“Saint,” I said, gently extricating myself from his rather tight grip, (I suspected it was so tight because his Drake was involved.) “Can we talk about what just happened up there?” I nodded my head at the ceiling, which is actually the floor of the Dining Hall.

“Forgive me, mi Corazon,” he murmured. “I will try harder to keep my Drake in check in the future. It is just that both of us hate Gonzales for tormenting you.” His eyes gleamed briefly red as he spoke and I could almost feel the loathing his Drake had for the big bully.

“I can handle myself around Gonzales,” I said sharply. “He’s not important right now. What I want to talk about now is what your father—er, your Sire—said.”

He frowned.

“If you fear that he will try to drag me back to the Sky Lands, don’t worry—I won’t let that happen. My Drake will fight to keep us here with you and he is larger and more aggressive than any Drake my Sire could find to send after us.”

Saying his Drake was “aggressive” was quite an understatement, as far as I was concerned, but it still wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.

“I don’t mean the threats he made,” I told him. “I mean what he said about your Drake being cursed.”

Saint’s frown deepened.

“You knew my Drake was cursed,” he pointed out. “He told you nothing new.”

“Yes, I know he’s cursed,” I said impatiently. “I’m talking about the other thing he said—that if the curse was lifted, you wouldn’t care about me anymore. That you wouldn’t want…want us to be together.”

It was hard to get the words out—they seemed to want to stick in my throat. But I had to address the issue.

“Well…” Saint sighed. He made a motion with one hand but didn’t really answer.

“Well what?” I demanded, frowning at him. “Do you think he’s right?”

He shrugged.

“In all probability, yes. My Drake’s aversion to females is part of the curse. If the curse was lifted, he would no longer refuse to be tamed by one of them.”

“Meaning he would chose a woman as your l’lorna and leave me in the dust?” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice or off my face. Saint must have seen it because he put an arm around me and pulled me close to his chest again.

“Why do you let it worry you, mi Corazon?” he murmured, looking into my eyes. “ The curse is too strong to be broken. Believe me—my Sire had every bruja in the Western Province try. So there is no possibility of me leaving you and nothing my Sire said matters.”

“Of course it matters!” I exclaimed. “I don’t want to have your love under false pretenses! I don’t want you to want to be with me only because I’m your only option!”

“But you are my only option,” Saint said, frowning. “You are the one my Drake has chosen and I…I am tired of fighting against him.” He shook his head, looking suddenly weary. “I know it is wrong…I know it is unnatural, but my needs and desires mirror his. I cannot resist you, Avery.”

“See, that’s another problem,” I said. Jumping up, I began to pace in front of the couch. “You seem to think we’re doing something wrong—it’s like you actually believe all those nasty, hateful things your Sire and Gonzales said about us!”

Saint frowned.

“What did they say that is not true? We are both lovers of men—we desire to be together instead of finding females and settling down in the normal way.”

“So you believe what we feel for each other is unnatural and wrong?” I demanded.

Saint looked at his hands for a moment.

“I do,” he murmured after a pause. He looked up at me. “But I cannot seem to stop feeling it, my Corazon. These urges inside me are too strong to fight anymore. I want you and my Drake wants you—that is enough for me.”

“Well it’s not enough for me!” I told him. I was still pacing but I felt like my heart was going to break. “It’s like I have you under a spell or something,” I pointed out. “Like you only care for me because I made you care!”

“You didn’t put the spell on me—the Bruja of the Southern Swamps did,” he said, frowning.

“Yes, but it amounts to the same thing!” I ran a hand through my hair. “I can’t deal with this. We have to lift the curse!”

Saint looked at me with wide eyes.

“You want to lift the curse so I won’t love you anymore?”

“You don’t love me now,” I said. “Not really. Your Drake only chose me as your l’lorna because of the damn curse. If it wasn’t for the curse…”

I shook my head, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Trying not to say what I was thinking, that if it wasn’t for the curse he would find me as revolting as the rest of the Drakes did —aside from Kaitlyn and Ari, of course.

Saint sat forward and reached for my hand to stop my pacing. Looking up into my eyes he murmured,

“But, Avery… mi Corazon, I don’t want to lose you! My Drake and I, both of us, we yearn for you.”

“You won’t lose me,” I said. “Not if the curse isn’t to blame for your, er, yearning for me. If what you feel is real, it will still be there after the curse is lifted. If it’s not, well…” I shook my head, unable to go on.

“Well, what?” Saint demanded.

I cleared my throat and tried to make my voice steady.

“Have you ever heard the saying that if you love something or someone you have to set them free?” I asked him. “If they come back, the love is mutual. If they don’t, it wasn’t meant to be in the first place.”

“What if I do not want you to set me free?” Saint whispered. “What if I feel that I will die without you?”

It was not only his own fear but his Drake’s that I saw in his eyes as he spoke. I reminded myself again of what Ari and Kaitlyn had both told me—that the love of a Drake is intense and passionate in the extreme—no doubt his Drake’s fear of losing me was affecting Saint deeply.

I reached down to cup his cheek.

“Saint,” I said gently. “I care about you too. But I don’t want your love under false pretenses. The idea that you think what we’re doing is wrong but you feel you have no choice in the matter is killing me. Please, just let me try to break the curse.”

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, his long black eyelashes like fans above his high cheekbones. When he looked up at me again, his dark eyes were suspiciously bright, as though with unshed tears.

“I can deny you nothing,” he murmured. “Do what you wish. But please promise me if you are unable to break it that we can still be together. I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

“Oh, Saint…” I sank down on the couch beside him and this time it was my turn to hold him. I could feel his big body quivering against mine as he wrapped his arms around me and I knew the thought of losing me really was tearing him up inside.

But what if his feelings for me—as intense as they were—were only the result of the curse?

The thought was unbearable. Maybe even more unbearable than the thought of losing the man I cared for so deeply.

I have to let him go, I thought to myself. I have to free him of this curse and if he comes back to me, it’s meant to be. If not…

If not I would remove his Blood Mark from my forehead and just be single the rest of my life. Yes, I know that sounds dramatic but that was how I felt—like Saint was the only one for me and if I couldn’t have him, I didn’t want anyone else.

But I didn’t want him under false pretenses. I resolved that I was going to break that damn curse or die trying.

And unfortunately, I knew exactly where to start.