Salt hangs heavy in the air as we step through the doorway of our rented room, the scent of the ocean following us like a persistent mory. After a week on the road, the solid walls of an actual inn feel almost unreal compared to the flimsy canvas of our travel tent.
"This is a much better city than Qence," I say, dropping my pack onto the nearest bed. The mattress looks clean and thick, a far cry from the lumpy straw-stuffed nightmares we endured in our last stop.
Mirelle smiles, her electric blue hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the window. "And twice as expensive, too," she replies, testing the other bed with a cautious press of her hand.
The window fras a slice of Lannos beyond, white stone buildings cascading down toward the harbor, fishing boats bobbing on the tide like painted toys. The city's massive walls gleam in the distance, their white surface unmarred by the gri that covered Qence's defenses.
Mirelle sighs, her shoulders finally relaxing after our long journey. "But the guild here is more active, so we should be able to find better work." She begins unpacking her thunder staff, checking it for damage from the road.
"Plus, you took out that ogre," I remind her, still impressed by how she'd turned the monster into smoking at. "That's got to count for sothing."
Her lips quirk up at the corners as she carefully places her staff against the wall. "Hopefully they'll give C-rank for that," she says, a touch of pride coloring her voice. "Then we can start going after goblins."
"I killed a goblin once," I offer, sitting on the edge of my bed and testing its bounce. Not bad at all.
"And you'll kill more," Mirelle says confidently. She crosses the room in three quick strides and suddenly her hand is on my wrist, fingers wrapping around it like I’m her property.
My body freezes instantly, the curse activating like it always does. I've grown used to this over the past week, the sudden paralysis, the way my muscles lock up under her touch. Still, I can't help the frown that forms on my face.
Mirelle smiles, noticing my expression. "We sleep together, rember?" she says, her blue eyes gleaming with sothing like triumph.
"Mirelle, co on," I protest, trying to sound firm despite my immobile state. "Do we really need to keep sleeping together? We have two actual beds now."
Her thumb traces small circles on my wrist, sending unwanted tingles up my arm. "But you sleep so well with , don't you? No nightmares, no tossing and turning."
"That's only because of the curse," I point out, though even to my own ears the argunt sounds weak. "You're literally commanding to sleep."
Her expression shifts, growing more serious as her electric blue hair crackles with static. "If there's a demon after you, I'm not letting you sleep alone," she says firmly. "Not when you're most vulnerable."
I sigh, knowing this is a battle I won't win. "Okay."
She releases my wrist, satisfaction written across her features as she turns to unpack her things. I’ve ntioned it to her before, but there really is sothing oddly comforting about the imdiate plunge into darkness, the complete absence of insomnia that's plagued for years.
What I don't enjoy are the dreams that have been haunting lately. Every night for the past week, my unconscious mind has been filled with images of Mirelle and tangled together, her electric blue hair spilling across my chest, her commands taking a very different turn. The dreams are so vivid, so real, that I've started to suspect she's influencing them with commands.
And since I'm never alone, not even for five minutes, I haven't had any chance to relieve the building tension. Two nights ago, I woke up to find myself in the middle of a wet dream so intense that I'd actually finished in my sleep, sothing that hasn't happened since I was a teenager.
But such is life on the road. I've learned to adapt, to take each day as it cos in this bizarre world that seems determined to test my resolve at every turn.
As Mirelle busies herself with unpacking, I collapse back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. For the first ti in what feels like forever, I have an actual mont to myself. Mirelle ntioned needing to check in with the local guild branch to register our tokens, and despite my expectations, she actually suggested going alone.
"You rest," she'd said, her tone surprisingly gentle. "We've been on the road for days."
The door clicks shut behind her, and I savor the silence. No commands, no paralysis, just and my thoughts. I close my eyes, considering a quick nap, a natural one, not curse-induced, when my stomach growls loudly, reminding I haven't eaten since our ager breakfast.
I must have dozed off at so point because the next thing I know, the door swings open and Mirelle strides in with sothing that slls absolutely divine. My mouth waters instantly as she places two steaming at pies on the small table by the window.
"Co eat with ," she says, pulling out one of the chairs. "The guild stuff took longer than expected, but I found these at a bakery on the way back."
I swing my legs off the bed, suddenly ravenous. "They sll amazing."
The savory aroma of spiced at and buttery pastry fills the room as I approach the table. I'm about to take the chair across from her when Mirelle makes a disapproving sound.
"Uh uh uh," she chides, patting the chair next to her instead.
I hesitate, then start to move toward the seat beside her when sothing in pushes back.
"Hey, wait," I say, stopping mid-motion. "We're not on the road anymore."
I deliberately pull out the chair across from her and sit down, eting her gaze directly. "There's an actual table between us now. We can eat like normal people."
Mirelle's lips purse slightly, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she reaches across the table and takes my hand. Instantly, my body locks up, the familiar paralysis washing over as purple light fills my vision.
"Co sit next to ," she commands softly.
My body moves without my permission, rising from the chair and walking around to sit beside her. I can feel the curse's energy coursing through , my eyes glowing with that telltale purple light.
"You can't just be lighting up with the curse like this all the ti," I protest. "My eyes glow purple, soone's eventually going to notice."
Mirelle shrugs, cutting into her pie with casual indifference. "It's not like it's super bright though."
"It's pretty bright," I counter, annoyed at how easily she dismisses my concerns.
She looks up from her food, one eyebrow arched in amusent. "How would you know? Have you ever actually seen your eyes when they're glowing?"
"No, I haven't," I admit, watching as Mirelle reaches for my fork. She stabs a generous chunk of pie. The sll makes my stomach clench with hunger as she lifts it toward my mouth.
"Can you just let go of so I can eat on my own?" I ask, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.
Mirelle's lips pull downward in an exaggerated pout that doesn't reach her eyes. "But I just adore feeding my lover," she says, emphasizing the last word with a playful lilt. It's the cover story we've been using since we left Qence, the smitten couple traveling together.
“Co on, Mirelle.”
She hesitates, the fork hovering between us like a question. "Please, just this one last ti?" Her blue eyes widen slightly with desperation.
I sigh, the fight draining out of . "Okay."
"Eat up," she whispers, her voice taking on that honeyed tone that makes my skin prickle.
My jaw drops open automatically, my lips parting as if pulled by invisible strings. I have no control over the movent, my body simply obeys her command without consulting my brain first. The curse works its magic, making a puppet to her words.
The fork slides between my lips, and the savory explosion of at and pastry fills my mouth. Despite my frustration, I can't deny how delicious it is, tender chunks of spiced lamb in rich gravy, encased in buttery crust that practically lts on my tongue.
"Good, isn't it?" Mirelle asks, her eyes never leaving my face as I chew. There's sothing unsettling about her intensity, the way she watches eat with such fascination, like I'm the al instead of the pie.
Since I can't nod my head due to the curse's paralysis, I swallow the delicious bite and manage a quiet, "Yes, it's really good."
Mirelle's gaze drops to my mouth, her eyes taking on that predatory gleam I've co to recognize all too well. "I think I deserve a reward for keeping you safe all this ti, don't you?" She traces her thumb across my bottom lip, wiping away a crumb.
"Not that kind of reward," I reply, my voice strained despite my paralysis.
Her electric blue hair crackles with static as she leans closer. "I could just take it from you, you know." Her breath ghosts across my face.
"You could," I acknowledge, annoyance coloring my tone even as I remain frozen in place.
She smiles at my response, and loads another forkful of pie. "Open," she commands, and my jaw drops obediently. She slides the fork between my lips, her eyes never leaving my mouth. "Chew."
I work the food slowly in my mouth as instructed while she withdraws the fork, bringing it to her own lips. She licks a bit of gravy from the tines, her gaze still fixed on my mouth with unnerving intensity.
"I love watching you eat," she murmurs, loading another bite onto the fork. "There's sothing so intimate about it, don't you think?"
I finish chewing, trying to ignore the way her stare makes my skin prickle. "Can we talk about sothing else?" I ask, desperate to break whatever spell she's weaving. "Like what you found out at the guild?"
Mirelle sighs dramatically but seems to take pity on . She releases my wrist, and the paralysis lifts imdiately. I flex my fingers, savoring the return of control to my body.
"Well, I’m officially C-rank now," she says, pushing my plate toward so I can eat on my own. "The guild master was impressed by the ogre kill."
"That's great," I say, reaching for my fork.
Just as my fingers brush the utensil, Mirelle slides her leg against mine under the table. The contact is imdiate, and so is the curse. My body freezes mid-motion, locked back into place.
"Actually," she says, picking up my fork again, "I think I'll keep feeding you. It's more fun this way."
She scoops up another bite, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Open."
My jaw drops automatically, the command impossible to resist. The pie tastes even better than before, sohow enhanced by my frustration.
"Now chew," she instructs, watching my mouth work with that sa unsettling intensity.
I comply, unable to do anything else. Her electric blue hair crackles with satisfaction as she loads another forkful, her leg still firmly pressed against mine to maintain the curse.
"What about a small reward for killing the ogre?" she asks, her voice dropping to that dangerous purr.
She leans closer, her intent crystal clear in those sparkling blue eyes. "Just one little kiss?"
"For the ogre that almost killed ?" I counter, sohow managing to inject sarcasm into my voice despite being paralyzed. "The one you let get close enough to throw a tree trunk at my head?"
Mirelle's expression flickers between hurt and annoyance. "I saved you, though."
"Vessa saved from the club," I remind her. "You just killed it afterward."
Mirelle's jaw tightens as she shoves the fork back into the pie, her knuckles white with tension. I can see her struggling with sothing internal, a battle playing out behind those electric blue eyes.
"You know what?" she finally says, her voice strained. "Forget it."
She abruptly pulls her leg away from mine, and the paralysis lifts so suddenly I almost fall forward. The freedom returns to my limbs in a rush that leaves montarily dizzy.
"Eat your own damn pie.”
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