Page 77 of Cursed By the Dawn

“You’re certain?” he breathed, ghosting his thumb across my lips. As if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” I said, shivering in anticipation. My hands were at his pants, ready to undo the laces.

He made a dark, eager sound—a delicious mixture between a sigh and a growl.

And then he pulled me even closer.

The world outside disappeared. There was no Istralla, no Light Bringer, no demons, no Corruption. Just him—his hands, his lips, his warmth—and the way we fit together, as if we were made for this, for each other.

Nothing but him.

Nothing but us.

He pressed dizzying kisses along my throat as I worked at the lacesof his pants, hands clumsy with anticipation. When the last tie came undone and the fabric slackened, he stilled, forehead pressed to mine, as if this moment demanded reverence. And perhaps it did. Because when our bare skin finally met—his chest against mine, our hips aligned—I forgot how to breathe. I could feel every line of his body against mine, from the taut planes of his stomach to his muscled thighs. It was overwhelming, being touched like this. Completely and fully, without pretense or distance. There was no armor between us now. No silk, no shadows, no shame.

And Maker, he was beautiful. Terrifyingly so. Not in a delicate way, but in the way of storms and seas and midnights. I curled my hands around his shoulders, needing him closer, needing that contact, needinghim. I wanted him all. The hardened edges, the quiet fears, the unwavering strength he didn’t always know he carried. And I wanted to give him all of me—the parts I guarded, the ones I thought too strange, too much, too unworthy. With him, I didn’t feel small or fragile or broken. I felt incandescent. Like the slow build of sunrise.

I wantedmore.

The low ache in my belly was a need I didn’t know how to voice, so I wrapped my legs around his waist, asking without words. He kissed me again, this time on my lips, and it didn’t feel like lust. It felt like surrender. Devotion. A silent vow we both understood. One of his hands found both of mine, guiding them above my head, and for a moment I swore I saw a pulse of shadow spill across the room like a wave.

We were a tide swelling beyond the edge of control. Wild. Scared.Eternal.

In another world, we’d have all the time in the universe. We’d have our entire lives stretched ahead of us—and maybe even more than that. We’d marry. We’d have a family. But for tonight, we had only each other. Tomorrow wasn’t promised, but tonight was.

And it would have to be enough.

“I love you,” he sighed into my mouth, my legs, my spine.

“I love you,” I echoed into his neck, his hair, his hands.

We moved together like shadows across a bed of starlight, breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync. It was both too much and not enough, and when it built to a crest, when we both trembled and cried out and clung to each other as if the world was ending—as if the world wasbeginning—tears fell down my face. Fell down his, too. We stilled, tangled together beneath the quilt. The weight of the world had returned, but it was lighter somehow. His arm rested across my waist, his breath gentle against my hair.

“Esmer,” he murmured. I shifted just enough to look up at him, to take in the rare vulnerability in his expression. “Whatever happens tomorrow—”

I pressed a finger to his mouth, cutting him off.

“We’ll face it together,” I finished.

He tenderly kissed my palm, nodding his assent. And when I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, I let myself believe it. For just this night, the rest of the world could wait.

“Erebus?” I murmured, unsure if he was still awake.

“Hmm?”

“I’d like to do that again,” I said, face heating as my thoughts wandered to the pulse of shadow that I thought I glimpsed. “I can think of some things I’d like to try in the Dream Realm.”

He gave a surprised laugh, the sound absolutely brimming with delight. It was the kind of emotion I wanted to coax from him the rest of my life.

“That can be arranged,” he said, kissing my forehead. I could feel him positively grinning against my skin. “Because I can think of some things, too.”

The moment Erebus and I gave ourselves to each other, I should have felt invincible.

It was a binding not just of bodies but of power—a merging of love and adoration so profound that for the briefest instant, I thought nothing could reach us.

But the world was cruel.

It began as a whisper at the edge of my mind, a hiss so faint I first dismissed it as nothing. But then it became a sharp, cold pull that squeezed my chest like a vise with teeth. I gasped, clutching at the bed beneath me. Erebus stirred beside me, his warmth grounding me for only a second before I felt myself being torn away into the dream again.