Page 28 of Hunted by the Headless Horseman (Roars and Romances #5)

JACK

Imove through the hidden wing of the manor, gripping my cane to aid with the unfamiliar territory, testing any weak floorboards. My footsteps echo against the creaking floor.

The wing includes one room, but from what I can gather, it was simply a boarded-up servants’ entrance. Nothing to find but an empty dwelling of dust and shadows.

I’d hoped this forgotten part of the estate might offer a clue, anything that could lead us closer to finding my heart. But it was another dead end like all the ones Belle and I had encountered.

Frustration mounts deep in my chest, tightening like a noose. Time is slipping away, and I feel it more with every passing hour. The doubt creeps in like a poison, reminding me of the stakes—higher than ever.

No matter how much I want to believe, in the deepest recesses of my soul, I understand time is running out. Great spirits! Will tonight be the last time I speak to her? Breathe her in? Touch her? Kiss her?

Fuck, I should be with her. Not here with the moments slipping through our hands.

What will the coming year do to us? I want to believe our love is strong enough to conquer the separation, despite our marital vows…how we would never be parted.

I may be strong, but can my sweet, beautiful Belle’s heart endure?

I pause in this room—what must’ve once been a study, running my hand along the edge of a wooden desk covered in a thick layer of dust.

My fingers brush the velvet box in my pocket. I pull it out, the small weight of it grounding me in the silence. Inside is the ring I planned to give her tonight, after the festival. I thumb the edge of the box, opening it slightly to catch the glint of the band in the lantern light. My grandmother’s ring on my mother’s side. I buried Catharine with her wedding ring from my father’s side.

Tonight, I will propose to Belle. Curse or no curse. Despite our vows, despite her word to me, I need her answer. I need to know if she will wait for me if we cannot find my heart. What if this is all there is for us? Can she live with me like this, half a man, still tethered to the Curse wrought by my own hand? It isn’t fair to her—hell, I know that much. Belle deserves more than a fractured life with someone like me.

I cannot protect her. By God, I cannot save her!

Thunderation!—I swing my cane in a fit of rage, destroying what little comprises the chamber. My breaths thunder in the black solace of my mind. She overwhelms every horrid thought. Her love shines like the greatest starlight in my longest and darkest night.

Shoving the box back in my coat, I swallow the knot of guilt choking me since I first considered asking her. How can she agree to this fractured life with me? For 364 days, she will never hear my words, nor my touch. What a bloody devil I’ve been. Our romance has progressed for only a month. The most intense and rewarding month that most could ever comprehend, much less feel.

If I may love without a heart, without a head, then let it be said that I loved you, Belladonna Holloway, with all that I am.

My grip on the ring box tightens until I fear I will break it. What will happen if we can’t let each other go? Will the cruel forces of nature rip us apart? Will my Belle become a casualty of my goddamn curse? I cannot fathom a world where her heart does not beat. If such a thing were to happen, if we were to recover mine, I would give it to her in a moment.

I leave the wing, stepping back into the cool night air, trying to push away the thoughts swirling in my head. Belle is everything. The thought of losing her…it’s unbearable.

With the heaviness of my fate closing in, I start toward the bookshop, needing to see her, to shake off this weight clinging to me. Run my fingers through her hair. Fuck her hard against the nearest wall. Spend the rest of the night as one kiss, one flesh, one soul.

But the moment I open my manor’s front doors, I freeze in my tracks at the silhouetted figure.

A second goes by before I recognize the energy. The same deja vu pulses through me. In this moment, I know with every fiber of my being that she is far more than she seems. Mrs. Kravitson. Her countenance is grave. And her eyes seem to see right through me.

“I know who you are,”

she says, her voice calm but firm.

“And I know what you are.”

She holds the knit pumpkin head, handing it to me.

“You left this when you and Belle were…otherwise engaged.”

A chill rolls through me. I should’ve known she knew more than she let on. She has always been close to Belle, but this is different. The sense of déjà vu returns. She is far more than a nosy neighbor, far more than Elizabeth Holloway’s lifelong friend. Or the mouthpiece of the town. She possesses real power behind her gaze.

She steps closer, going so far as to ascend the steps toward me. Her energy is strong, and it’s clear she has no qualms whatsoever about seizing the moment and commanding, “Jackson Elias Moore.”

Chest tightening by the second, I give her a nod of confirmation, but do not relinquish my grip on the cane.

“I’m the descendant of the Diviner you once sought.”

Her words hit me right in my chest. It shouldn’t stun me, but it does regardless. She steps toward me.

“I’ve suspected for some time now. But it was confirmed when I spied you and Belle observing the map, and what happened after. I didn’t need to watch to understand the result from the pumpkin head there one minute, and then you left the kitchen with a head in place. But before…when she spoke to you, your gestures proved you understood what she was saying, but you didn’t say a word. And you know how much I care for Belle like a granddaughter.”

Silence hangs between us. The tension seems to grow claws that break my skin, digging into my flesh.

“Her heart is weak,”

she echoes the same thoughts I had but minutes ago.

“Fragile, Mr. Moore. I don’t know what type of relationship you possess. Lizzy and I…we knew the potential power of the book, but we dared not test it. However, our sweet Belle is bold and daring beyond the confines of any soul. A true and cruel twist of fate that her heart cannot match the strength of her soul. No…”

Her tone grows bitter.

“No, a cruel twist of her former husband. The Covenant left internal scars, but Thaddeus left more.”

“He will never have her,” I growl.

“Agreed. But she deserves to heal from such scars. And I won’t let her die of a broken heart, Mr. Moore.”

What can I say? The guilt I’ve been trying to bury slams into me in full force. I clench my fists, cracking the leather. I am at a loss for words. But her truth burns through me with a vengeance, a cry for help…help for the woman I love more than anything in this world or the next.

I fight to keep my voice steady.

“I don’t deserve her,”

I admit, the pain of what I will do tonight already spearing me.

“And she doesn’t deserve to be caught up in my curse.”

Mrs. Kravitson’s countenance seems to soften, but judging by the hard sucking of breath, she won’t let up.

“No, you don’t. And if you give her that ring in your hand without knowing the future, what happens to her if you’re bound to this curse forever? What kind of life will you offer her?”

Her words wreck me. They are a sign, a confirmation of my earlier thoughts. A sign of fate itself. Must I walk away from the one being to summon me in two centuries to preserve her heart?

Yes.

The conviction devours me into its force like a black hole. I want to argue, to promise that I’ll protect Belle from everything—even from myself if necessary. But how can I? If my heart is not found tonight, I know what the future holds and how it could repeat year after year until Belle is old and gray. She would leave this earth utterly crushed after the vain hope that I could give her a life together, a life she deserves. It would be a far worse torture than if she lost her heart.

I will allow neither fate to befall her. If my heart could but be found tonight…

Stiffening with another fit of anger, I harden my voice, “You’re the Diviner’s descendant,”

I challenge, my voice low.

“You must know where my heart is.”

She sighs, her expression heavy.

“Not even I am blessed with that knowledge, Mr. Moore. And that should tell you something. But I will protect Belle.”

Her voice softens as she steps closer, lowering her tone as if to make certain I understand the gravity of her words.

“The Council is already sending reinforcements from the county to prevent the Covenant from coming. I’ve arranged for military intervention if things escalate. Thaddeus Thorne might try to bring her back, but it will not happen.”

Every muscle in my body hardens to stone. Everything in my being recoils at the name—Thorne.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

She pauses. It’s the first time she steps back, and I sense her fear.

“H-how did you not know, Jackson Moore? Thaddeus is…”

How fucking blind I’ve been! Too blind to see it, too caught up in the curse to realize that the man I’d seen that night was none other than the descendant of Edmund Thorne, the very man I cursed myself to destroy. My obsession with Belle and my quest have caused me tunnel vision—driven me to this hollow existence, and now, Thaddeus…he’s part of it, part of my damnation.

I clench my fists, rage simmering beneath my skin.

If I continue, this battle will turn into a war. And I can not, will not allow Belle to become a casualty of my pride. If Thaddeus Thorne discovers my connection to her, he will defy every force on this earth to take her back. Nothing will stop him. Her chances are better without me in her life.

I’ve forged this torture, this fate, with my own hands, and now Thorne’s bloodline stands in my way yet again.

“If you stay, you risk dragging her into all of this—whether she chooses it or not,”

Mrs Kravitson goes on.

“You want to marry her, but are you prepared for what that could mean?”

Her words resonate in my mind as she departs, disappearing into the mist, leaving me standing there with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I walk back to the bookshop, every step feeling heavier than the last. How can I possibly give Belle this ring, knowing what might happen? It’s only been a month. If I give her this ring, it would signify a deeper chapter for her. But if I spare her, she may mend…and heal from me.

When I reach the shop, I slow my pace but move closer, needing to see Belle, and remind myself why I must fight for her, why I cannot walk away.

And then, my blood turns to ice.

Belle is sitting on the counter—locked in his arms in the throes of passion. He kisses her, and she returns the kiss. Not just a brush of lips. No, this is deep, passionate.

The ice spreads into my chest, piercing me like cold spears.

He rips her stockings and grinds against her like the predator he is. She touches the side of his face…like she has touched mine so many times. Like I don’t exist. Like she hasn’t spent the last few weeks wrapped in my arms, promising me her love.

She said she didn’t have feelings for him anymore. How could she possibly? No one could fake the fear she showed whenever she spoke of him.

Has he manipulated her all over again? In one visit, has he persuaded her to be his wife again?

Belladonna Thorne. Not Belladonna Moore.

My chest tightens like a snake squeezing it, the velvet box in my coat suddenly feeling like a lead weight. I cannot move. I cannot think. The woman I was ready to propose to, the woman I was willing to give my whole life to, is kissing another man, ready to give herself to him. He’s touching her where my hands were not a half hour before. He’s pulling down the strap of her dress, tugging it down her shoulder, then kissing her neck.

This is my fate. Retribution for my sins and the Thorne bloodline returning its vengeance against me. It’s why he could sense me. And now, he will take what I love most in this world. And she will go with him.

Everything inside me shatters.