Curse

“I can’t!” I told him the truth, my voice trembling as I stepped back, the cold stone of the castle terrace biting into my bare ankles. The moonlight sliced through the night, casting Leon’s tall figure into sharp relief—his broad shoulders taut, his amber eyes glowing with a mix of urgency and something darker, more primal. “I can’t just accept a man as my future husband or my forever mate. Although we had a wonderful evening, it doesn’t mean I’m ready to commit to you.” My cheeks burned as the memories flooded back, unbidden: the warmth of his skin against mine, the low growls that had rumbled in his chest as we lost ourselves in each other, the way he’d explored every inch of my body with a hunger that bordered on desperation. We’d tangled in his silk sheets until dawn, trying every position, every whisper of pleasure, but when the sun rose, all I felt was a hollow ache of confusion. I swallowed hard, clamping my eyes shut to erase the images—images that felt both intimate and empty