[redith].
"The curse is a part of it," she said.
I lifted a brow, as if to truly confirm. "Really?"
She nodded once.
Slowly, I withdrew my hands from hers and reached up, pulling the neckline of my dress down just enough to bare my shoulder. Then, I angled myself toward her, my heart thudding as I showed her the faint mark that remained.
"This is all that’s left," I said quietly. "The half moon. It’s fading."
She didn’t need to see it the way others did. I knew that. Still, she tilted her head slightly, as if listening to sothing beneath my skin.
"This happened because of the mate bond," she said. "It broke this far because you and Draven have mated."
I swallowed a gulp.
She continued unhurriedly, "That bond allowed you to fully unlock your wolf. It also loosened so of the restraints placed on you. That is why certain abilities have already begun to surface."
My breath felt shallow. "And when the mark completely disappears?"
She turned her face fully toward . "Then you will have no restrictions."
I echoed the words under my breath. "No restrictions."
Her grip tightened just a little, grounding before panic could fully take hold.
"There is much more I will reveal to you tonight," she said gently. "The curse is only one thread. There are truths tied to it—truths you are not yet aware of."
My chest tightened. Fear crept in despite myself, and she seed to sense it imdiately.
"Do not worry," she said, firm and reassuring. "Everything will end tonight."
I looked at her, my pulse loud in my ears.
"Tonight," she went on, "you will learn what you are truly capable of." A pause. "And you will learn what truly happened in the past."
I said nothing. I only nodded, my thoughts spinning, knowing deep down that whatever waited for under the full moon, I would not leave this place the sa.
I wanted to ask more, as there are so many more questions crowded in my mind, but my grandmother lifted a finger slightly, stopping before the words could leave my mouth.
"When the ti cos," she said gently, "I will call you."
I understood at once what she ant. When it was ti to help break the curse—when the full moon reached its peak, she would call out.
Then, she patted my hands once more and said, "Go back to your mate. Keep him company until dinner."
I hesitated, a new worry slipped in, sharp and unwelco. Draven wasn’t the type to sit idle. He might want to take a stroll, look around, and ask questions.
And if he did, he might notice. The land. The people. The things that didn’t quite fit. I didn’t know how he would react if he discovered that faes lived here, hidden in plain sight.
Before I could voice any of it, my grandmother spoke again, as if she had reached into my thoughts and plucked them out one by one.
"Your mate is free to walk wherever he wishes," she said calmly. Then she added, "Since I knew you weren’t coming alone, preparations were made ahead."
I looked at her, my breath caught halfway.
"He won’t find out who we are," she continued. "There is no need to worry."
I exhaled softly, the tension easing from my chest.
She smiled, warm and knowing, and reached up to gently adjust my dress, pulling the fabric back into place so it covered my shoulder completely.
"Go," she said.
I nodded. Then I stood, gave her one last look, and quietly left the room.
---
I pushed open the door to our room, and warm lamplight spilt across the wooden floors and woven rugs.
The bedroom wasn’t large like the ones at the Oatrun estate, but it felt softer—hand-carved shelves, dried flowers hanging to scent the air, and a thick quilt on the bed that looked hand-stitched.
It felt like a place built for breathing, not impressing anyone.
I didn’t see Draven, but I heard water sounds, and imdiately I knew where he was and what he was doing.
I stepped quietly toward the sound. The ’bathroom’ wasn’t modern. It was more like an enclosed spring. Smooth stone lined the walls, steam rising from a sunken pool, candles floating in clay bowls.
It slled like lavender and forest leaves.
Draven sat in the water with his back toward , rinsing his shoulders with a wooden ladle. His hair was wet, and the muscles of his back shifted subtly with movent—strong, calm, and familiar.
I paused in the doorway, just watching him with warmth spreading in my chest.
"I know you are staring," he said without turning. His voice was low and amused. "Since when did you beco a shaless observer?"
I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway. "I couldn’t help it. I like looking at you. And I am your mate, so I have every right to admire what is mine."
He turned his head slightly, just enough for to see the corner of his smirk. "You win," he murmured. "Co here. I will help you wash your hair."
Then, he extended a hand toward .
I hesitated, glancing around the room. "Draven, we are in my grandmother’s ho. You do rember that, right?"
"I do." His eyes softened. "But this is the price you pay for keeping secrets from ." His voice wasn’t accusing, just quietly honest, curious, and hopeful.
My stomach tightened because he didn’t know how close he was to the truth. I stripped and stepped forward anyway.
"I’m not ready to tell you everything yet," I whispered.
He didn’t pull back. "That’s not a problem. I will wait until you are."
That was what finally broke —the patience.
I placed my hand in his, and he gently helped step closer, guiding to sit at the edge of the pool.
Then, he took a jug of water and, with slow, careful movents, poured it over my hair, protecting my face with his other hand so the water didn’t get in my eyes.
The water slid down my back in warm sheets, and his thumb brushed the side of my jaw. It was accidental, but lingering. His hand stayed there, steadying . I felt his breath near my ear before I ever heard his voice.
"You always carry your thoughts like weights," he murmured. "Let take so of them."
I lowered my head as he rinsed the last of the water from my hair.
His fingers paused, gentle against the curve of my neck. "You don’t have to tell anything. Don’t feel pressured, okay?" he said quietly. "Just stay with here, right now."
His patience undid in ways the warmth, the water, and the way his hands moved like he knew my body better did.
I shifted, sliding from the edge into the water beside him. His arm went around my waist automatically, instinctively, like his body recognized before his mind did.
I turned toward him, close enough to feel the steam between us, close enough to see the lines of concern and restraint on his face. Then his forehead touched mine.
Sothing inside softened, like a knot pulling loose. My hands lifted to his face, thumbs brushing the drops of water clinging to his cheekbones. He leaned into the touch like a man starved for it.
I kissed him, slowly, at first. Testing the mont. Then his hand rose to the small of my back, drawing in.
The kiss deepened with no urgency, just warmth and familiarity and the ache of wanting to stay in this small, impossible peace.
Next, he guided closer until my knees brushed his. His other hand slid up my spine, steady, reverent, like he was learning all over again. When we separated for breath, our lips still touched.
"You’re trembling," he murmured.
"I know," I breathed. "Don’t let go."
"I won’t," he promised.
The rest unfolded quietly—hands learning, mouths finding their way back to each other, water moving in slow ripples around us.
The candles flickered, shadows dancing across the stone as his body aligned with mine, as closeness lted into sothing deeper, sothing wordless.
The steam blurred the room into softness. His whisper was the last thing I heard before the mont dissolved.
"I’m all yours..."
And the scene faded into warmth and water, the world outside disappearing as we sank into each other.
---
By the ti we were done with each other, and everything finally stilled, I could barely move.
The water lapped weakly against the sides of the pool as I tried to stand, my legs unsteady beneath .
Draven noticed before I even reached for the edge. Without a word, he slipped an arm beneath my knees and another behind my back and lifted easily from the water.
Next, he set on the smooth stone floor and reached for a towel.
The fabric brushed over my skin in slow, steady movents, as though he ant to put every piece of back together with his hands alone.
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