A Vow So Bold and Deadly (Cursebreakers, #3)

by Brigid Kemmerer

The door creaks at my back, and I know it is Grey. “You were with Rhen very late,” I say without looking up from my paper. “I missed playing cards.” I smile, then dip my pen in the inkpot. “Well, you are—” His hands slide down my shoulders, and he leans in to kiss my neck from behind, and I gasp, then giggle. “You’ve been drinking.” “Perhaps a bit.” His voice is husky. “It smells like more than a bit.” “It’s possible we shattered a bottle.” I turn within the circle of his arms. “What?” I say, but he leans in to kiss me. For a moment it is glorious, because his hands are gentle and his mouth is sure, and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar and something sharper. But then my stomach has other ideas, and I jerk back and slap a hand over my mouth. Grey startles, then smiles, and there is something simultaneously soft yet protective all in that look. “Forgive me,” he says. “It’ll pass,” I say, my voice muffled behind my hand. “Shall I call for some of your tea?” I shake my head and swallow, then close my eyes. I sense more than feel Grey drop to a knee beside me, but then his hand rests over my belly, which has not yet begun to swell and curve with motherhood. He leans in to speak right to my abdomen. “You should be kind to your mother.” I laugh softly—but the nausea suddenly passes. I snap open my eyes. “It worked.” A light sparks in his eyes. “He already knows I will not stand for disobedience.” “Perhaps she simply decided it was time to rest.” He takes my hand. “Ah, yes. And s...

sobbing crying and screaming rn what the fuck dude