Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Fifteen - Changing Chains

                                       You can tell me when it's over                                                                           If the high was worth the pain                                                                                              - Blank Space by Taylor Swift

This is not freedom.

My arms are light, the air is fresh, and every movement shimmers with fluid ease.  The prickle of cameras greets me like a lost love renewed, sparks tingling in time to my heartbeat .  My blood roars, red, fierce and alive, a flood strong enough to bring down the sky.

Not freedom.

"Enjoying yourself?"  Maven strides into the garden, gaze snagging on the new crest emblazoned on my chest.  Red and purple petals bloom on the same rose, framed by vines lush with silver thorns.  Designed to ensnare attention.  Designed to mark me his.

I set the nearest bush on fire.

"I'll take that as a yes."  He laughs.  "Leave some of the garden intact, please. The groundskeepers take pride in their work."

"You're next."

"I'm sure I am."  Maven extinguishes the bush with a hiss, taking my hand in his.  "Your presence often sets me aflame."

Shock him.  What are you waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

"Something on your mind?"  His hand glides from my palm to my wrist, and his grip grows too cold, hardening, silencing, a manacle merged to my skin.  He'll never let go.  Let go.

Let go.

L

E

T

G

O

I stagger against the nearest tree, prying at fingers that aren't there anymore.  Breathe.  Don't breathe.  Can't breathe.

Maven settles beside me, crouching to meet my eyes.  He's drowning me.  He's drowning me, and I'm reaching for his hand.  His horrible, soft, gentle hand.

I grit my teeth.  "Don't touch me there."

"Alright."  He softens.  "Come.  We can clean up your mess later."

_

Without Iris, Maven has a fine needle to thread.  Her mother cannot learn she has defected, that she has thrown her lot with Cal and the Rift.  But an alliance is useless without arms.

"We need more troops," he mutters.  There's no council left for him to meet with, no one except me.  And I have no intention to be useful.

"Cal said you could find armies in your sleevies."  I smile sweetly, and Maven gives me a murderous look.  "What? He did."

He rubs his temples.  "Why don't you return to your chambers?"

"Because I'm bored and you're lonely."  I rest my head against his shoulder, suddenly stricken by a wave of exhaustion.  "Scratch that.  We're both lonely."

His hand traces circles against my back.  "We have each other."

I scoff.

"We could contact Piedmont again."  He taps his chin.  "A different prince, this time.  One more amiable."

"Last time a prince entered negotiations with Norta, he was murdered."  I pull away, strangely empty without his touch.  "We're lucky they haven't declared war."

"Yes."  He nods.  "Attacks are often fueled by vengeance."  A wicked smile.  A coy nod.  "When Cenra learns of Iris's kidnapping, she'll rally her subjects without restraint."

"You'd need an army of Silvers and a miracle to capture Iris."

"A noxious gas."  He chuckles.  "They flooded her room while she slept and stole her away in the night.  The Scarlet Guard has never been prone to honor."

"And this escaped your notice?"  I arch a brow.  "You took so little care with her safety? Queen Cenra's not an idiot.  She'll notice how closely my consortship aligns with her daughter's disappearance."  I clutch his arm.  "I don't need another person seeking my death."

His eyes dart, hands twitching, a jittering animal trapped by his own reckless ambition.  Let him seek comfort in my arms.

"Iris and I spent a lot of time together.  We'd complain of you until our venom ran dry, until the conversation softened to something more . . . intimate."  Maven sours, nails digging as if to claim me.  "Not that kind of intimate, you cretin.  I asked her sister's favorite painting, what flowers Cenra wove in her hair, what fish her father liked but she didn't.  Little things."

"Little things?" His hand caresses my cheek, leaning closer. "Do you want mine?" I can taste his breath, cold tea and peppermint. "I would love to know yours."

Jealous prick.

I press his shoulders.  "Down, boy."

"Later, then."  He winks.

There will be no later.  "As I was saying, before your horniness interrupted me."  Maven chokes, and I relish his discomfort.  "I know enough of Iris's life to draft a convincing letter to her mother."

"A letter."  He savors the word like a tasty treat.  "That will be more than enough."

I don't like how he's looking at me.  "Okay, out with it.  You're acting really weird right now, and I wanna know why."

"Consort."  Maven doesn't blink.  "Could we make love tonight?"

"Thanks, that really clarified things."  I scowl.  "Since when have we 'made love'?"

"Since now."

What is he playing at?  Why is he acting so sappy, so vulnerable, so gentle?  What does he have to gain?  "Why now, then?  We've formed our habits.  We speak our language of pain.  Why use another?"

"I feel so happy."  It's official. He's lost it.  "Ever since you signed those papers, I've been so elated.  I'm gonna crash soon, I'm sure but for now--"  He inhales.  "She's screaming at me.  She's screaming at me, and I've been ignoring her, and I want to enjoy it while it lasts.  Please.  Let me love you."

"You're not making sense."

"I'm not."  His hands ghost my shoulders.  "I'll make it worth it.  I'll be so good to you, I promise, just . . . "  I can't look away from his smoldering eyes.  "Please."

It's too much.

My curiosity will hang me, but I have to see what happens.  He said it would fade by morning, that he would come to his senses, and I believe him.  I won't have this opportunity again.

"Are you a man of your word?"

"Always."

I let him lead me to my chambers, heart delicate as lace.  If this is an act, it is a cruel one.  I've banished all traces of the Old Maven from my thoughts.  I don't need these uncanny reminders.

I can't look at him as I undress, yet it is all I want to do.  I don't know what I'll find.  I don't know what will hurt more: clues it's a lie, or clues it is true.  I shouldn't be doing this.  I shouldn't.  I shouldn't.

I will.

Maven folds me into his arms.  I am a candle, he is the flame and I melt into sweet oblivion.  His voice bleeds in and out, always gentle, words meaningless, lies, beautiful lies I don't want to remember in the morning.

It might as well be a dream.

A/N: Click the star if you liked!

Next chapter is Maven's POV! I've been dying to show it to you guys for ages; it's one of my favorites. Be warned, it's very intense, so prepare yourself.