Page 43 of WitchCurse

Fix what? The blight was not going to fade that easily. My minimal responses would gain them nothing.

“We’ll be moving soon,” Toby said. His eyes turned blue again, and he looked back toward the door. “The wards are going to be wonky, but Sebastian is near.”

“Better to wait or rip the Band-Aid off?” Nick asked him. Why did it feel as though they were speaking another language?

A smile tugged up the corners of Toby’s lips, not sweet or even happy, more devious. He stared at me like his wolf was peering out from his eyes and not the timid boy everyone thought him.

“I’m not timid,” he assured me.He looked back at Nick. “Ready?”

Nick roped his arms around my shoulders, grip suddenly like a vice. I had a moment of terror that they were somehow helping the alpha restrain me, cage me. Toby scooted in close, hands pressed to my chest for a few seconds, studying the lines. Then he reached up to cup my chin. Holding me in place.

Could I break their hold? Weak and half-starved as I was, they were not fae, even if they had control of some of my magic, but in those few seconds staring into Toby’s blue gaze, rimmed in gold like the most powerful of sidhe had long ago, I wondered if that was still true. Nick’s grasp was wrapped in the strength of my magic, and Toby’s hand on my face, unyielding.

“I have a bit of a favor to return,” Toby said, his face close to mine. Lips close enough to my own that I could feel the warmth of his breath on them.

“What favor?” I asked, trying to recall offering up something to him. I didn’t like being beholden to anyone.

“Band-Aid off,” Nick said with a bit of amusement. “It’s more his style.”

More strange words. Then Toby’s lips were on mine, first a press of skin to skin, and then something to swallow my scream when white-hot pain slammed through every nerve like I was on fire. It lasted forever and only a few seconds. Jarring pain, and then a sudden absence of it that left me panting, stars sparkling around my vision, and heart racing. Toby rested his forehead on mine. Nick held me like an anchor despite my trembling.

“That was only one,” Toby said.

“Fuck,” Nick replied.

One what? My body shuddered with the memory, and I was only upright because of Nick’s weight at my back.

“That was worse than the bond forming,” Nick said.

Toby cupped my face in both hands, holding me gently. “I didn’t think it would be that bad. Kiran?”

I tried to focus on him around the pops of color, blinking a dozen times and still unable to form words. He seemed to be studying my face, but I couldn’t really see him through the dancing eye sparkles.

“At least we can see them now,” Toby said. “Symbols, not thorns. Like knots tied into the essence of him. Magic. Spells, whatever.”

“Curses. He’s had them the entire time I’ve known him,” Nick said. “I couldn’t see them before, not like this, but I think I could feel them.”

Toby stroked my chest, hands gentle as he rested his cheek on mine, sharing warmth while I still trembled and sucked in air like I couldn’t breathe. “There are a lot.”

“Hundreds, maybe thousands,” Nick agreed. “Can you imagine how strong he was that they’ve been trying to bind him like this?”

“What?” I finally managed to say. The pain gone, but the aftereffects making me tremble.

“Marks from the fae, curses,” Nick said. “They drain you even now. This is why you’ve been unable to heal. You are kitsune. They are only sidhe. Even I didn’t realize what that meant until I saw how Sebastian changed in Underhill. Have you known the whole time?”

“That the sidhe etched curses into my flesh?” I asked. “Yes.” I vividly remembered the creation of nearly every one, and they dug in like daggers every time I moved until my flesh had gone numb and I felt little of anything at all. Was that pain what it felt like to remove one? I hadn’t known it was possible, and wasn’t certain I’d survive having that pain times a thousand. There were at least that many curses burned into me, many of them soul deep, embedded in childhood.

Toby’s face came back into focus, the outside space too bright, forcing me to look at him through half-lidded eyes. He kept his hand firmly on my cheek, forehead pressed to mine, and his other hand on my chest as if gauging my heartbeat.

Pretty was the wolf, blond, with a nice face. Young, especially without the facial hair. I’d worked hard not to notice, trying to stay out of my scion’s interest.

“I never asked for that,” Nick said.

“Pretty,” Toby growled. “But at least you see me.”

“Why is that bad?” I wondered. Of course, I saw him. The fae had always considered pretty a badge of their status.

“Sebastian is pretty, delicate, but a bit scrappy. I am not pretty,” Toby said. His wolf gazed at me from human eyes, a fierce beast ready to fight, though his touch didn’t turn to pain. Nick was pretty too, in a different sort of way. More like Landon had been, with his burgundy curls and strong arms. Not the sidhe sort of ethereal, too pretty to be real, but more like home, safety, and warmth. I wasn’t certain how else to define it.