Chapter Eleven The Final Night

Chapter Eleven

The Final Night

Lore

"Sit, wild one, and let me lick your wounds," said the fox as I made my way up the dilapidated steps.

I ground my teeth, needlessly jealous. I should be grateful that the fox could heal Samara, but all I felt was anger. As much as I wanted to be the one to nurse her back to health, I was the reason she needed it. I had promised to keep her safe, and I had failed miserably.

I was a terrible lover but a worse protector.

That reality struck even harder as I entered the witch's cottage and was overwhelmed by a foul stench. I could not place it exactly, but it was sickly sweet and burned my nose. Bile surged into the back of my throat. It was so instantaneous, I choked as I swallowed it down.

If Samara had managed to spend hours in this cottage, I could stay for a few seconds.

I stepped into the kitchen. There was a trail of blood on the floor between a rotten wooden table and a large blazing hearth over which a cauldron boiled fiercely. Seeing it filled me with dread. What had the witch had planned for my beloved?

I found her body just beyond the table and her head in the sink. Her face was gray and waxy, but her eyes were open, and she stared back at me just as she had in the field.

I shoved my thumb into the corner of her eye, and when her eye popped from its socket, I tore it loose. I did the same with the second.

After it was done, I stared down at her face before catching sight of a row of knives laid out neatly on the counter, and an anger unlike anything I'd ever felt burned through me. I reached for one and before I could think twice, I shoved it deep into the witch's face. I jerked it loose and did it again.

And again.

And again.

I slammed the blade into her until I couldn't breathe. When I was finished and her face was nothing more than a bloody pulp, I screamed until my voice gave out, dissipating into silence.

"Feeling better?" asked the fox.

I wondered at what point he had decided to join me.

"No," I growled. I scooped up the eyes I'd removed from the witch and threw them at the fox. "Here are your fucking eyes."

They landed at his feet. He watched them roll away until they disappeared under the table and then looked at me.

"They are your eyes, Prince of Nightshade," said the fox.

I knew it, but I did not want it to be true. At this moment, I could not understand my own actions. I did not know why I had sent Samara back to this cottage, especially after the night we had shared. I had made love to her. I had made love to her, and no one else had before, and I had let her leave my side to sleep in a house of horror.

I should have kept her by me. I should have spent the rest of the night inside her.

Instead, I had traded all that for a pair of eyes I could barely look at.

"She apologized to me," I said, grinding my teeth so hard my jaw ached. "She, bloody and broken, apologized to me ."

"What do you expect from a woman who is used to abuse?"

My eyes burned.

Only one thing was clear to me now. Cursed or not—I did not know anymore—nothing changed the fact that I was unworthy of Samara's true love.

"We had better be on our way," said the fox. "Find her eyes, and cut her nails. Tonight, we will find where the wishing tree will grow."

The fox turned and left the cottage, and I followed soon after, but not before dropping the witch's head into her boiling cauldron and setting her cottage alight.

* * *

We traveled until the sun went down. Fox led the way, and Samara followed. As usual, I lingered behind, carrying the satchel, which felt strangely heavy, weighed down by the witch's eyes and her long iron claws.

Though I desired to walk beside my beloved, it felt like a reward I didn't deserve, so I kept my distance, and she kept hers. I wondered how she felt about me now, in the aftermath of my failure. Did she regret giving herself to me? Did she love me less? Did she love me at all?

The questions gnawed at me the longer we went without speaking, but I could not bring myself to ask. I was afraid and ashamed.

Coward , I thought.

The sun was setting when we stopped at the base of a hill where there were many trees, and the foliage was dense.

"This will do," the fox announced. "Make a fire beneath those shrubs, and burn the witch's eyes. The ashes will tell us where to go."

I hesitated, watching Samara continue on, up the grassy hill and out of sight. I dropped the satchel to the ground and started to follow her, but the fox stopped me.

"Where are you going, Prince of Nightshade?"

"I no longer care about the eyes or the wishing tree," I said. "What value do they hold when all they will do is take my beloved from me?"

"Are you saying you no longer believe you are cursed, prince?" he asked. "Or are you saying you are content to be cursed?"

I hesitated. I did not know exactly what I was saying, I only knew that when I thought of a life without Samara, it was not a life I wanted to live.

"Think carefully before you choose to end this journey," said the fox. "For your beloved has made sacrifices in your name. Would you have her do so in vain?"

"Of course not," I said, frustrated by the fox's question.

"Then burn the eyes, Prince of Poison."

I ground my teeth and set to work, building a small fire beneath the thickest green shrubs, hoping to conceal most of the smoke. I had no idea where Samara's brothers might be in relation to us, and despite having set the witch's cottage on fire, I did not want to give away our current location. While I had failed to protect her from the old woman's evil, I would not fail to protect her from her brothers.

Once the fire blazed, I tossed the eyes into the flames. They were still sticky and wet, and they sizzled until they popped. The fire hissed in retaliation, and the smell made my stomach turn, but I watched them until the fire died. When they were cool, the fox instructed me to pour water over them.

As I did, he watched.

I wondered what he saw in the remains, because all I could make out were ashes swirling. After a few seconds, he gave a soft hum and spoke.

"The wishing tree will appear in a valley surrounded by the Glass Mountains."

I could not deny the dread I felt at the mention of the Glass Mountains, and it reinforced my belief in my curse. The mountains were vengeful, and they had cursed many of my brothers. Why would I be any different?

"Which valley?" I asked. The Glass Mountains went on for miles and miles.

"The moon will let us know," said the fox. "The question you must answer, dear prince, is how will you spend this final night."

Final night.

Those words tore through me.

I did not want a final night with Samara. I wanted many nights—many like the one we'd had last night, but would that be possible on the other side of this broken curse? Right now, I could not imagine feeling anything less for Samara than I felt now. I could not imagine a world without her. She was everything to me—the sun rose and set with her, and the moon waxed and waned with her.

She was the love of my life and even if she broke the curse, that would still be true.

The fox curled up on the ground to sleep while I made my way up the hill where I found Samara sitting, her knees pulled tight to her chest. She was surrounded by tulips, the petals of which seemed to glow pale blue beneath the starlight. As I stared at her from a distance, I remembered the day I'd first laid eyes on her and how she had ensnared me. It was not even her beauty, which was so plainly evident, that hurt my heart. It was what radiated from within her—a kindness I had never seen, a patience I had never endured. Still, she showed these things to me, though I did not deserve them, but tonight I was going to ask for both again as I approached and sat down beside her.

She did not look at me, keeping her head tilted toward the sky.

"Have you learned where we will go next?" she asked, her voice light.

I did not know what to make of it, but I answered her question.

"Yes."

She said nothing, and in the quiet that followed, I gathered the courage to speak.

"I do not want to find the wishing tree," I said.

She looked at me. "Why?"

"Because I do not want to live without you," I said.

She smiled at me, but there was no humor in her eyes or in what she said. "You are a beautiful man," she said. "But you are very stupid."

I frowned. "I am telling you that I do not want to live in a world where I do not love you."

"I know what you are saying," she said. "But you do not seem to understand the point. You still believe your love for me is a curse, which is why we must continue to the wishing tree."

"Why does it matter? I love you now," I said, frustrated.

"It matters because you are afraid of what comes after the wish is made," she said, and then she moved suddenly, shifting into my lap. She wound her arms around my neck, her breasts pressed against my chest, and I tilted my head back to hold her gaze. "But I am not afraid. I am not afraid at all."

Then her mouth was on mine, and something inside me broke open. It was like all the hope I'd locked away within me was suddenly free, pouring into every part of my body, and for the first time since I'd started this journey, I thought that perhaps I had a chance at true love, but with that feeling rose doubt.

"I failed you," I said, breaking our kiss. "I should never have sent you away last night."

"Nothing would have happened if I had listened to the fox," she said.

"It is not about whether you listened," I said. "I chose the quest over you."

Samara's brows lowered. "Do you really believe that?" she asked.

I was surprised she didn't.

"You would never have sent me into that cottage if you thought I was unsafe," she said. "I know that to be true."

It wasn't untrue, certainly.

"It was not fair to you," I said. "I should have kept you at my side, I should have made love to you all night."

"Should have, would have," she said. "There is nothing for you to do except make up for it tonight."

I shook my head, wondering how I had been given such a gift.

"You are incredible," I said.

"I love you," she said, as if she were answering why.

Our lips collided, and I let my hands side up her thighs and beneath her dress. I gripped her ass and pulled her over my arousal.

She pushed me down into the flowers with a firm hand on my chest but did not follow. I stared up at her with a raised brow.

"Samara," I said.

"Yes?" she asked, grinding against my cock.

I let out a hissing breath. "I want to be inside you."

She laughed.

"Do you find pleasure in my torture?" I asked.

She made another breathless sound and then bent to kiss my chest.

"No, but I fear I am being selfish tonight," she said. "For I very much desire to taste you as you tasted me."

I groaned and felt my cock tighten a little more, her body grazing me as she kissed down my stomach. It took everything to keep still as she unlaced the ties of my trousers. I distracted myself by removing my prosthetic. It was easier to move without it, but also, my stump was far softer.

My arousal sprang free and the cool air was a welcome relief, but not for long, because soon Samara's hand was wrapped around me, and her thumb was teasing the crown of my cock.

"I should have known from the start you were a siren," I said.

"I am no siren," she said, not looking at me but at my arousal. "I do not even know how to do this."

Even if she did nothing else, I would be content, but then she bent and licked the come from the tip of my cock.

I groaned. "What has made you so bold, wild one?"

She smiled a little. "Curiosity," she said, and then she swirled her tongue around me. "Do you like that?"

A strangled laugh left me. I could barely think. "Yes, wild one," I said. "I love it."

She did it again but continued to explore me with her tongue, running it along every part of me—beneath my crown and along the veins, down to my throbbing balls. I was in disbelief as I watched her. There was a joy to the way she teased and tested, and it was far more arousing than anything I'd ever experienced in my life.

Finally, I could take it no longer, and I pulled her away.

"Enough, wild one. I want to be inside you before I come."

She crawled up my body and straddled me, her mouth closing over mine before sitting back. Then she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside. Her skin was pale in the moonlight but marked with bruises. They scored her skin, a map of where I'd explored her last night. It seemed fox's healing had not reached them.

She stared down at me, hesitant. It was the first time since starting this that she didn't seem too confident.

"What is it, beloved?" I asked.

"I…how do you want me?"

"What a wild question," I said. "Any way I can have you, beloved, but I think that tonight, you should stay just where you are."

She looked down, as if she were trying to figure out how we were going to make this work.

"Lean forward a little," I said. "And guide me inside like last night."

She did as I instructed, obedient as ever and eager to please. A wave of heat rushed straight to my head as the crown of my cock sank into her wet heat.

"That's it," I whispered, wanting more of her. My hand smoothed over her ass, gripping her flesh.

She pushed against me, taking me little by little. When she finally sat back, I slid fully inside her, and perspiration had broken out all over my body. I wanted to take a deep breath, but I couldn't until she stopped adjusting to me. Finally, with her hands planted on my stomach and her breasts crushed between her arms, she looked at me.

"Are you okay?"

My laugh was short and hoarse. "I am fine, beloved. Are you?"

She nodded, and I rested my hand and limb on her thighs. At first, she only rocked her hips back and forth, but as she became more comfortable, she started to move up and down my cock, and her breasts bounced. I reached for them, and she bent forward so I could take them into my mouth. I sucked her nipples hard, and she moaned, grinding against me.

I fell back into the flowers and brought her with me, tightening my arms around her and rolling, pinning her beneath me. She anchored her legs around my waist as I thrust into her. I had no thoughts. My only guides were her body and breath as I chased the pressure building at the base of my cock, and when she tightened around me, I came.

I collapsed on top of her, my body shaking. She kept herself wrapped around me, her fingers threading through my now-damp hair as I listened to the beat of her heart. My eyes grew heavy, and as I drifted off to sleep, I thought I heard Samara singing.