The Fated and the Damned (The Cursed Blood, #2)

by Chloe Hodge

My witch kith, who had once delighted in bullying me and belittling me, needed my guidance. Because they sensed my devotion to the cause? Or because of the power running through my veins?

What was it she was always calling me? Insufferable. An asshat. Stubborn. A small smile curled my lips. Yes, I could be stubborn when it came to the things I wanted, and there was nothing I wanted more than her. It’s about time she remembered that.

“Let me go, Dante.” The words were slow and measured, every word coated in dark warning. I had the sense she meant more than simply letting her walk away from this encounter. “Never,” I replied in a deep voice, the muscles in my arms cording as I shifted even closer.

“I will not yield, Dante. I won’t.” She kneed me between the legs and I gasped, doubling over as pain wracked through my body, unable to do anything but watch the rigid line of her back as she stormed into the castle.

The wolf lord of Mistvellen, cowering before a woman scorned.

Together, you’re unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. I believe your fates are wound together and, regardless of your feelings, the gods have bigger plans for the two of you.

The chair squealed as I stood up and planted my hands on the table, red misting around my fingers as I stared Iren down, my words slow and measured. “Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Him. Before I burn them off.”

“Touch me like that again,” he said quietly, “and I’ll break each of your fingers.” He let her go, his lips curling with disgust. “Belittle my betrothed again, and I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Want is a base desire, and what I feel for you goes far beyond that. I need you like I need air to breathe, and sustenance to keep me nourished. You are both my biggest failure, and the biggest victory I might ever achieve. I can’t do this without you. I won’t.”

“I still think you’re insufferable though.” I chuckled, capturing her hand in my own. “And you’re still a stubborn witch.”

She stared at my lips, her hands moving up my chest slowly, stirring something deep inside me. Our breaths mingled, sharp and slick with keen awareness of each other’s bodies. “I will be your judge. And I am going to punish you.”

“Fuck, Kitarni, keep doing that and I’ll come before I’m even inside you.” “Maybe it’s my way of punishing you,” she purred. “Or maybe I want to be punished too.”

I raised a brow. “Next time we decide to have angry sex, let’s try not to destroy everything we touch, okay?” “And ruin all the fun?” He snorted, tugging me to the ground and into his arms.

Christians, pagans, dark worshippers; our beliefs were so different, and it was that fact that made faith so dangerous. That fact that had humans burning witches at the stake and cultists cutting out hearts and draining bodies of blood.

The books, at least, I could understand. Sometimes I wanted to hide away myself, forget about my responsibilities and just lose myself in a fictional world.

“Life with me will be whatever you wish it to be. I will give you everything you want. And I will destroy anyone in the way of you getting it.”

She smirked as she bowed mockingly before raising her middle finger. My little hellcat was so sweet.

She could destroy me and I would love her still.

She looked nervous, the pulse in her neck fluttering as she looked around at the crowded chamber, taking in the heavy stares of judgemental eyes. I willed every inch of encouragement into my gaze and, when our eyes met, I smiled at her softly, throwing in a dimple for good measure.

It was an unremarkable thing as far as crowns went. Gold, jewel-studded, like most were, but its simplicity made its secrets even curiouser. Words jumped out at me from the page. ‘Power of the ancients’, ‘passed down from the gods’ …

“The crown has been worn by many over the ages. All were consumed by its allure. Power of this magnitude is not meant for mortal beings. It … takes from them. Their sanity, their morals. Even with Kitarni’s power, I cannot promise she will be the same if she wears it or if she’ll survive what comes out of it.”

She was a goddess of death, and I, the faithful servant by her side.

I grinned, flashing a dimple for extra measure. “Oh darling, I knew when I first heard you cuss that you were a wild and wicked thing. But this violent delight of yours? You were made for me.”

okay casteel

“How does their relationship work, anyway? Do you think he has any equipment to … you know?” My chest rumbled with a gruff laugh as I shuffled on the bed. “I’d prefer you didn’t think about Death’s skeletal knob, thank you very much. As far as I’m concerned, he’s missing that particular bone.”

“I would cut his hands off before he could touch you.” She nestled into me, a smirk on her face. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Oh fuck a duck. I love you, Dante. My heart is yours. It beats for you, and it will die with only you. I just needed to let you know in case—”

fuck a duck?