A Curse Unbroken
Page 3

 Cecy Robson

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Aric couldn’t hold on like this. We were diving too fast. So I shifted my weight and bit through the bones of the shifter’s feet.
It worked. Finally, I was free!
And crashing at high velocity toward the earth.
“Celia!” Aric yelled above my roars.
I pushed my terror aside and reached for my inner eagle. Unlike shape-shifters who could command any form at will, my power was limited to creatures I’d touched and unpredictable in the best of times. Instead of transforming into the majestic and powerful bird of prey, all I managed was a set of wings for arms and a very human body.
Good. Lord. I thought my nipples would snap off from the frigid breeze slapping at my body as I fought to halt my descent.
While I didn’t exactly fly, my wingspan was wide enough to slow my fall. I would have fluttered down gently had Aric not howled above me. My head snapped up. The shape-shifter was corkscrewing ahead of me, his erratic motions breaking Aric’s hold and flinging him off.
Like a baby wren leaving the nest, I flapped my wings pathetically toward him. In no way was I graceful, but my need to save Aric made me fast. I batted my half-assed wings and naked self to him, snatching him from the air with my legs.
His face smashed against my bare and trembling body. Had my thighs not been shredded to bits, this move might have been kind of hot. But they were, and aw, hell, did it hurt.
I grunted from the pain and exertion it took to hold him and keep us airborne. “It’s all right, sweetness,” Aric said over my agonized whimpers. “You got this. Stay strong.”
Aric slipped further down my bloody and sweat-soaked body. I gasped, frightened he’d fall through my legs. He tightened his arms around my waist. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Don’t be scared.”
His warm breath against my stomach brought me a sense of comfort, and gave me a boost of determination. But when I saw how far we remained from the ground, I worried his faith in me wouldn’t be enough.
I forced my wings to keep flapping, and tried to ignore the horrible burn in my legs. But I could barely focus. It felt like someone was slicing at my thighs with a machete and peeling the muscle away.
We were about twenty feet from the ground when my body surrendered to the pain. Spots danced in my vision before I lost my wings and we fell. I vaguely remembered Aric twisting our bodies just before we crashed into the shallow muddy river.
Although it was only September, the water felt like frozen icicles piercing my skin. The sting jolted me awake, but did nothing to ease the throbbing of my shredded skin.
Aric jerked violently beneath me and slowly loosened his tight hold around my head. I pushed myself up on my arms in anticipation of another attack. But it never came. Instead, I watched the shifter disappear into the distance, his damaged wing barely allowing him to fly.
Better luck next time, asshole.
My eyes quickly fell back to Aric. I gasped when I saw him. He lay with his back arched against the base of the embankment. Blood trailed into the water from where his skull had hit a large rock. His breath was ragged, but his eyes blinked open. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, reaching for him.
He shook his head, grimacing as his skull snapped back into place, but surprising me with a smile. He pushed my long hair over my shoulders. His stare wandered down my body until it locked onto my legs.
Aric’s eyes widened when he caught my blood mixing with the river water. “You’re not all right!” He cradled me in his arms. “Your thighs look like hamburger!”
I smiled weakly when he lifted me from the river and placed me along the edge of the bank, keeping his body close against mine. I stroked his cheek carefully. “I meant yes, I’ll marry you,” I told him quietly.
Aric stilled. Drops of muddy water trickled from his hair to stream along his temples. “Even after all that?” he asked, motioning with a jerk of his chin to where the shifter had disappeared.
My fingers trailed over his rough five o’clock shadow. I knew what he meant. Our union wouldn’t make our lives any easier. “For better or for worse, right?”
His light brown irises flickered and that grin I fell in love with spread across his face. “Yes, sweetness. For better or worse.”
Chapter 2
“I’ll leave you just where the trees thin and the forest opens to the road. You’ll be close, but hidden and safe from the fight,” Aric said. “I’ll bring Emme to heal you and leave another wolf to guard you while we finish off the panther.”
In a different world this would likely sound like an odd conversation. In mine, it was almost a daily chat.
Aric tucked me against him and charged, his bare feet racing in the direction of the beach. His body swerved around the dense pines in an exuberant rush, but he was vigilant as always and careful to keep me from harm. His injuries had likely already healed. That wasn’t the case with me.
Aric fell under the spectrum of supernaturals who were hard to kill. While I had a tougher hide and could withstand more than any mere human, my inability to heal made me vulnerable and a liability. I hated it, but the last few months and my current situation were a sore reminder of that truth.
The cold river water had chilled my bones and the severity of my injuries made my head spin. I adjusted my bare skin against his, hoping his heat would help soothe me. It worked. The warmth that bonded us as mates spread through me, but it wouldn’t be enough to save me. My legs grew slick against his stomach. And although I recognized that I continued to bleed, I remained unbelievably headstrong.
“Don’t leave me, I can still fight,” I muttered.
Aric pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Don’t be stubborn. I proposed to a tigress, not a mule.” He ran another few feet before stopping abruptly. “Shit. Now what?”
I tilted my head to see Emme riding Bren the wolf. Bren sprinted gracefully and effortlessly toward us, carrying the jumbled quilt in his teeth. Emme clung for dear life to the fur of his neck, her honey-blond hair sweeping behind her, and her body bouncing in less than charming motions. It was almost comical. Almost. If my legs hadn’t been sliced to shreds, I may have had a giggle.
Bren changed back to human as he rose, dropping the quilt into his outstretched arms. Emme’s fingers remained tangled in his long messy curls. He was a lot taller, and I supposed she was afraid to let go. Having a petite ninety-eight-pound blonde attached to him didn’t seem to bother Bren. He walked casually toward us with Emme’s body swinging like a bell behind him. “It’s over,” he said. “The panther’s dead.” His eyes widened when he looked at me. “Damn, Ceel. You look like hell. Guess that blushing bride stuff was all bullshit, huh?”