Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Twenty One - Jealous Boy

Oh, how fast the evening passes                                                                  Cleaning up the champagne glasses                                                                                               - Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde

Mare

I am empty when I wake. My hands grasp at air for a boy who is not there, not beside me, but at a desk and chair, fully dressed. My heart pangs. Stupid. Everything feels like betrayal now.

He doesn't notice me until I peer over his shoulder. The envelope Iris handed him yesterday lays torn and empty, an inked paper unfolded in front of him. There will be no apologies for last night. I don't know how to make one.

"I'm busy, love." It's unsettling, the ease with which he says it. Maven squeezes my hand. "You'll never believe who wrote us a letter."

The handwriting is spiked and slanted, written in haste. A tiny stain lies in the corner, a dark silver smudge. I know this handwriting.

So does he.

"How should we reply, love?" Maven smirks. "A taunt? A promise? A threat? Go on. If we're so alike, you must have no problem detailing all the things we've done. All the places we've explored. All the noises you make in the dark."

I snatch the letter, scanning. Cal is more concise than his brother, and gets to the point immediately. This war has dragged long enough. Be a man and meet me face to face. There must be a settlement we can reach.

Are you a man of your word?

"Well?" I'm going to sew his mouth shut. "I'd like an answer."

"We have an opportunity to stop the bloodshed. We should take it." I seal his lips with mine, letting my hands roam down his shirt. A transparent ploy, but one that soothes his ego. "It's what a king would do."

"Depends on the king." We crash onto the bed, arms caging me on either side. "Sometimes strength is a more powerful facade than reason."

Nails sink into his back. "Please. Like you'd pass up an opportunity to display your consort. You're a jealous boy, Maven."

"Say that again." His breath hitches.

"You're?" I arch a brow. "That word's a turn on?"

"Call me jealous." Maven nibbles my jaw. "Tell me all the things I'd do to make you mine. Tell me how spiteful I am. How petty. How childish. I'm a monster, Mare. You know that better than anyone."

Another mind game. Will he ever tire of them? "You're a boy, Maven. You never grew up. You wallow in your petty feuds long after everyone else has moved on. A parasite who feeds off bitterness and hatred." I bite his neck. "One I can't pry from my flesh."

He groans.

"You're not strong. You're pathetic."

"I've taught you well." Maven nuzzles my hand, trailing kisses up my arm. "You're an excellent liar. You even fool yourself." A hand caresses my jaw. "You want him to see us as much as I do."

"Wishing doesn't make it so."

"You're mad at him." His eyes burn. "He judged the monster inside you. He thought you needed to be fixed. Cal can't resist being the hero. Especially when it lands him a throne"

A bitter laugh. "You can't resist being the villain."

"Long as you're my villainess." Maven strokes my jaw. "There's none I'd rather scheme with. No poison I'd rather take. No hand I'd rather die by." A toss of his shirt, and his brand is on full display. "I'm honored to bear your mark."

He won't heal it. He won't forget it. He'll keep it on his chest until I break down and finish it. And that moment grows nearer and nearer.

"Iris suits the role better." I trace the scar. "Maybe she can be my villainess."

Maven pulls me closer. "I'm a jealous boy, Mare." Hot breaths dance atop my skin. "You love me. Only me. Say it."

"I can only lie so well."

"Lie for me." He slides an arm around my waist. "Say the words and think you don't mean them. Look into my eyes and know I would be telling the truth." My legs part to make room for his body. "You might surprise yourself."

The hottest of flames burn blue. "You think I love you."

"You might." His mouth meets my ear. "Does it frighten you?"

"Monsters don't fear other monsters. They destroy them." Teeth scrape against his collarbone, but he pins me to the headboard. "Don't test me."

Maven's tongue teases the outside of my ear. "All we do is test each other. Think of it as a challenge. A chance to break my heart."

"I did that yesterday."

Wrong thing to say. His eyes go wide, grip weakening, staring at my lips as though I could unspeak the words. "You tore me to shreds. And I'm fine with that.  It's how we love." His hands shake. "Had you done that to Cal, he would never have forgiven you. Never have understood. He'd have called you a monster and left. But I get it. I forgive you." Maven sharpens. "Don't ever imply we're the same again."

"There's that word again."

"Hmm?"

"Love."

He stiffens. "What of it?"

"What if I didn't love you?" My arms nudge him to the side, sexual tension dissipating. "Would you still forgive me?"

"You love me."

"Do you know that?"

"Say you love me." Maven buries his head in my shoulder. "I don't care if it's a lie; I need you to say it. Please." Tears stain my nightgown. "I can't bear to hear anything else."

My hands shake. "I--" His ear is uncomfortably warm, quivering as I lower my voice. "I love you. I love you, alright? Stop crying."

He does not.

Fingers tangle in his hair, drawing our lips together. "I'm here. It's alright. I'm not leaving. You're safe." I stroke his cheek. "There's no need to cry."

"You're right." Maven wipes his eyes. "There's no time for tears. Only vengeance." He buttons his shirt, spite rekindling. "Prepare for the meeting. Oh, and Mare?" His eyes gleam. "The table will be made of silent stone. Remember that next time you're tempted to torture me."

He leaves.

Bastard. Of course he broke his promise. He's caging me again, if only for a few hours. I want to turn his skin inside out. I want to scrape a thousand insults into his flesh.

I want to cry.

Maven assumed I was angry with Cal. In a way, I am. He does not understand my torn edges, nor how I defend them. But more than that, I mourn. Cal is who he is, and it isn't fair to judge him for mishearing words I never spoke.

In a better world, we could've been together.

In a perfect world, we would never have met.

I trace the edges of the letter, studying the smudge in the corner. It flakes against my finger like dried blood, dark silver dust crusting my nails. If I squint, I can make out a word.

Bite.