Page 39 of Fate’s Sweetest Curse (Mirrors of Fate #2)

Taste

Hattie

H e tasted like dew on mint leaves. Like hushed conversation, or laughter on a shaded riverbank. Fresh as mist rising off a perilously high waterfall. Nectar-sweet as a summertime orchard. His flavor was stronger than any potion; he tasted like he wanted me, heady with unbidden desire.

With his tongue sliding against mine, my whole body was flooded with sensation.

I felt weak, weightless, buoyant. Over the years, I had imagined what kissing him might’ve felt like.

I’d clung to the quick peck we’d shared as kids on Raina’s dare, conjuring up that fleeting taste in my mind and imagining his flavor in excess, his touch strong, passionate, claiming.

But not like this .

Never like this.

This went beyond my paltry imagining.

Kissing Noble was a full-body experience of hands squeezing, arms tugging, soft groans, and slippery sounds.

He cupped my jaw, tilting my head just so while he licked and sucked, his kiss both filthy and adoring.

Reverent and wild. His other hand gripped my waist with a pressure that bordered on pain, hard enough that I knew it would leave a mark.

I had the sense that he wanted to leave a mark, as proof that this happened. I wanted that, too.

Afraid I might wake up at any moment from the best dream of my life, I threaded my fingers in his soft waves, clawed at his shoulders, pressed as much of myself against his frame as I could, until I was crawling up his body into his arms. He clutched my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He returned to kissing my neck, my throat, my collarbones.

Then he hoisted me higher in his arms so he could slide his teeth across the top of my dress.

“ Fates ,” I breathed appreciatively, tipping my head back. My whole body felt stretched taut.

“Have I made myself clear?” Noble asked against my cleavage.

“Abundantly,” I gasped.

He paused, green eyes finding mine. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze black with need. When he smiled, it was open and boyish. Real . His hair was tousled from my fingers threading through it, with strands sticking out at odd angles.

I laughed.

He laughed.

Then the moment popped like a soap bubble. His palms shifted on my thighs, allowing me to slide down his body in a long, slow scrape. When my feet hit the ground, I wobbled, dizzy from what we’d just done; his palms lingered on my waist, waiting for me to find my balance before falling away.

Without his hands on me, I felt cold and unsteady. Noble flexed his fingers at his sides: open, closed, open. The veins in his forearms were overly pronounced, dark. His chest rose and fell with panted breaths.

I knew what he was going to say before he said it: “We can’t.”

“Can’t—or shouldn’t?”

“Both.”

“You really think it matters, after all this time?”

His frown—genuine, unguarded, a little wry—was devastating. “Yes, princess .”

I scoffed, even as an ancient wellspring of emotion flooded my chest. “I am not a princess, and you know it. ”

Noble tipped his head. Kind, but frank. “Heiress, then.”

I knew what he was doing. Bringing up my identity was the best way to remind me what was at stake if we were caught.

My heart felt suddenly waterlogged, heavy. “Nobody wants that,” I said tightly.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you are an heir with lawful claim of Lothgaim.”

“ Was ,” I corrected. “I was heir. Then, if you recall, I was married off.”

“I remember,” Noble murmured. “I hate myself for it.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do ,” he said roughly.

I shrugged like it didn’t matter, like the loss of my name—the erasure of my existence from the Census Ledgers of Marona—was an old scar instead of an unhealed wound. “Yes, well. I didn’t want my claim, anyway.”

“What you wanted didn’t matter, though,” Noble pointed out. Not to taunt me, but because it was true.

The Arcane Law of the Seven Territories could not be rejected; it’s why I’d been forced into hiding before the general populous heard the rumors Noble had accidentally spread.

Because if the people of Lothgaim learned that I—mixed-born Maronan—had rightful claim of their territory, there would be a revolt.

The peace and unity the king and queen strived for with Raina’s arranged marriage would be ruined.

And I would be forced into a role I did not want.

All because the law was sacred, and to publicly denounce it could shatter the sanctity of the kingdom.

“I wish that what I wanted mattered,” I whispered, meeting Noble’s eyes.

“Me, too.”

Noble was right. This was dangerous.

I was a threat to the kingdom whether I accepted my claim or not.

Even after Raina married the current heir of Lothgaim next year, my scandalous existence would still threaten her title, her safety, and the political unity her marriage was intended to foster.

If anyone uncovered who I was—through my connection to Noble, or otherwise— many lives would be ruined.

Nearly ten years might’ve passed, but nothing had changed. The only way to avoid the unrest was to pretend I didn’t exist.

But Marona and Lothgaim were a long way from here. While Noble’s family was well-known, my connection to him wasn’t. Of the people who’d seen us interact—mostly just Phina and her team—nobody seemed to care how long ago we’d met.

“What if we—”

“ Hattie ,” Noble said, reading my mind. “Sneaking around never ends well. You of all people should know that.”

I wasn’t ashamed to be a product of sneaking around , but the reminder that my very existence was an example of it not ending well still stung.

He was right, though.

Noble softened, stepped closer, and fixed the silky sleeve of my dress, his fingers lingering on the fabric.

The intimate touch was entirely new, but also natural.

Because we were us , and the connection we shared…

it had always been this fond, hadn’t it?

Even back then. Even when I felt it but didn’t know for sure.

“How can everything be different,” I whispered, voice watery, “and still be exactly the same?”

His fingertips fell away from my dress. “Nothing has changed.” I got the sense that he meant emotionally and in the way we ought to move forward.

I touched my fingertips to my tingling lips. Noble’s eyes tracked the movement. I wondered how red they looked to him, how swollen. When a faint smirk formed, I knew my mouth must’ve looked raw.

But then he frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t have divulged all that. ”

“ Divulged is an interesting way to describe what just happened.”

With a faint chuckle, he tilted his head to the dome above, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me. The windows were alight with shades of tangerine and plum now, the sun’s spectacular descent—a beautiful death.

“Noble.”

He met my eyes again.

“I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m not certain you are.”

My forehead wrinkled. “Why not?”

“Because you look sad.”

“So do you.”

“Back in the cave.”

The only time I see the sun is when I’m with you .

I shook my head. “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, was to feel free to be who I am. To be with—”

“ Please don’t finish that thought,” Noble said, throat bobbing. “I’m hanging on by a thread here.”

I bit my lip, shook my head, frustrated—no, furious —at the idea of never kissing him again. Never feeling him against me like that again. Never knowing the sensation of his bare skin sliding against mine, filling me—

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.”

I lifted my chin. “That obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“And what if I don’t stop thinking about it?”

Noble ran a palm over his face with a grumble. “Your identity isn’t the only thing that makes this dangerous, Hattie.”

He meant the research program, no doubt. Viren. I hadn’t been willing to admit it since the attack, but I’d found myself at the middle of another political conspiracy of some sort, and of all people, I knew the risk of not treading lightly.

I sighed, relenting. “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s a relief,” I said, “to feel like I’m not completely alone in this agony.”

“You are not alone in the agony,” he confirmed, a small smile quirking those lips—lips I now knew the feeling of. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring at me like I’m a meal.”

I cocked my head, assuming a haughty expression. “Yes, well, you’re doing the same thing to me.”

“Hard not to.”

“You did a good job of pretending not to for most of our lives.”

“I was just trying to spare you the burden.” A sad smile. “But I was bound to break eventually.”

“It wasn’t just your burden to bear.”

A nod. “I should go.”

The backs of my eyes stung. “Alright.”

“Hattie,” Noble murmured, stepping into my personal space again. “Peach.”

He pinched my chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting it so he could ghost a kiss across my lips. Again, I tasted the delicious, indescribable essence of him , and…Hylder? No, that must’ve been the scent of the Black Lace beside us, mingling with my sense of taste.

The thought was there and gone in a flash as Noble leaned into me. The kiss deepened for one hypnotic moment, a slick drag, and then we were breaking apart.

When he looked into my eyes again, he wasn’t masking his expression with cool neutrality; his features were plain, apologetic. It felt like a gift to get the real him .

“Can we agree on one thing, moving forward?” I asked.

He inclined his head in a wordless go on .

“Can we forget the lab rules?” He opened his mouth to protest, but I spoke over him. “We don’t have to be best friends, or even talk all that much, I just…don’t want it to feel so cold.”

He nodded. “I can do that.”

“I’m supposed to be working with you on Gildium, anyway. It’s against Phina’s wishes for us to ignore each other.”

“True.”

I gave him a single nod, then stepped back.

“Do you want me to walk you out?” he asked, seeming to remember the new protocol of researchers coming and going in twos.

“I think I’ll harvest some Hylder while I’m here,” I said. “Willa can escort me out later.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” He regarded me a moment longer, eyes flicking over my features like he wanted to memorize every detail of this moment. Then his jaw ticked, and he said, “I’ll see you around, Peach,” before walking down the garden path and disappearing around the bend.

Earlier, I’d wondered what the harm was in getting our feelings out in the open. Well, now I knew. My heart felt like it had been cleaved open, an axe splitting wood with a swift crack. To learn that my feelings were not unrequited was both a relief and utter torture.