Page 83 of Castle of the Cursed
“What is it?” he asks, and I know he feels the gravity of my news because concern colors his gaze.
“I had a sister. A twin.”
He stares at me with wide eyes, wordless.
“They killed her,” I say, my voice breaking. “In the black fire.”
Sebastián pulls me into his chest, and I inhale night’s cologne. “I am sorry,” he murmurs.
How is it possible to miss someone I only learned about hours ago? After becoming an orphan, I didn’t think I had anything left to lose. But the world just keeps on taking.
“Your uncle will pay for all he has done,” Sebastián vows into my hair.
I flash to the book I buried in the garden, and my stomach roils with guilt. Am I just as bad as the rest of my family, using lies and deceit to get what I want?
“What if it turns out you’re with someone where you’re from?” I ask, the anxiety eating at me. “Or if you have a family or important responsibilities or power—?”
“What if you had died in the woods?” he asks, cutting me off. “I was so consumed with the fear of losing you that I could not produce another thought.”
“You only have access to seven months’ worth of memories,” I argue. “How can you know you really feel this way about me?”
“I can only describe it as I feel the pain of breaking-in muscles I did not know I had,” he says, and his silver gaze no longer holds any coldness. “You are cultivating a gentleness in me I never had cause to develop. I do not want to lose these new pieces of myself any more than I want to lose you.”
Everything he says is perfect, and yet I don’t deserve it. I am keeping his identity from him, just as my family did to me.
But I can’t lose him.
Our lips meet, and his tongue flips a switch that makes every inch of me tingle.
I barely feel the floor beneath my feet as he guides us to my bed. As we move, Sebastián zips down my hoodie and pulls off my shirt, letting the layers fall behind me like flower petals.
I’m trembling as he pulls down my pants, his starry gaze glued to mine, like he’s daring me to say stop.
I’m only in a bra and underwear as he slides me onto the bed. We’re both sitting up as he kisses my neck and draws a path to my chest with his tongue. I boldly reach back and unhook my bra. The straps sling off my shoulders and the whole thing rolls down, exposing my breasts.
I’ve never been naked in front of someone like this, and I feel a sear of heat flush my cheeks. I want to ask him if he’s going to remove his shirt, too, but I can’t make my tongue form the words.
“You are beautiful,” he says, running a finger across my jawline, his cold finger leaving a trail of heat on my skin. “We can move slower if this is too fast.”
I chuckle nervously. “Must be the opposite for you. This must feel like slow motion.”
“Time is a concept with which I have only recently become acquainted,” he says. “What I know of it can be summed up in a line from a book I read in this library: Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time.”
All my organs seem to be melting. Only a week ago, the shadow beast seemed a sadistic monster with no heart, and now he is the most romantic being I have ever known.
“It is better in the original Spanish,” he says, his gaze so soft, it looks like a silver sea. “Estar contigo o no estar contigo es la medida de mi tiempo.”
His voice sounds deeper in Spanish, and I remember noting the way my parents’ pitch would also shift when they switched languages. Without breaking our stare, he rakes his fingers through my hair, pulling the curls back, and his other hand closes around my neck, his thumb pressing into my chin.
“You say when to stop,” he tells me, then his hand drops from my face to my collarbone, and then lower still, to my breasts.
Sebastián’s caresses make me moan, and I feel an engine deep within me revving to life. His hand trails down my rib cage, and in with my waist, and as it keeps moving south, I fall back onto the bed. His fingers stay on the outside of my underwear, but the cotton is too thin to be much of a barrier.
I can’t keep my eyes from rolling back as numbness spreads through me, a relaxing sensation that overtakes every muscle and makes my mind too dizzy to form a complete thought.
“I want to,” I mumble, “stay awake.”
I’d rather not miss more time with him, but this sense of release is making me sleepy. I’m sad about my sister and hopeful about Beatríz and overwhelmed by Sebastián—and the cocktail is emotionally draining.
