Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Forty - Hold On

                          I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you                                                                   - Colors by Halsey

Mare

Eleanora swoops in before I do, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back. "I'm giving you one chance to explain yourself. Make it good."

Maven cranes his neck to face me. He's exactly as I remember him, save for a few muddy scratches. Same cerulean eyes. Same unruly hair. If I brushed a finger over his lips, would they still be soft?

"I'm waiting."

"I'm not here to attack you." He wriggles, but she holds fast. "I'm not sure who you are, to be honest. Let my consort join me, and we'll be on our way."

"Kidnapping." Rosalie shakes her head. "How charming."

"I'm not seducing you."

"Thankfully." I sigh. "Leave you alone for two seconds and you get yourself held at knifepoint."

Eleanora grunts. "He deserves it."

"He does."

"Yes, yes, I'm very stabbable." Maven sighs. "Please unhand me."

"Yeah. I want a turn."

He pauses. "You know, I wouldn't object to that."

Eleanora winces. "Too much information."

"There's more where that came from, if you insist on keeping me." Maven chuckles, wrenching an arm from her grip. "So many details I could share."

She shudders. "Come on, Rosie. Let's get out of here."

Rosalie turns to me, extending a hand. "My offer still stands."

I hesitate.

Of course I have to. Maven would wreak havoc without me to manipulate him, to whisper instructions in his ear and let him believe they're his own. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

But this doesn't feel like a sacrifice.

"You came." The words rush past my lips in a breathless whisper, a foolish, foolish whisper that won't lead me anywhere I wish to go. "I didn't think you would."

"Of course I did." He softens. "Why would I want to be without you?"

Damn my heart. "How did you get here?"

"Unimportant." Maven points ahead. "The Rift brought trains. Shall we steal them?"

I snort. "Do you have to ask?"

"No." A grin spreads across his face. "I don't."

The surface is a war zone, riddled with metal shards and charred bodies. Largest of all is the train tipped on its side, which distinguishes itself from its comrades through a jagged hole in the ceiling.

It twitches. The metal groans, shuddering as the wheels realign themselves with the tracks. For a moment, nothing happens.

Then it begins to move.

I spring forward, hands outstretched, but my fingers clench around naught but air. The metal bar is tantalizing, a lucky lunge away from freedom. My legs burn. My lungs ache.

I won't miss this chance.

The metal jostles my foot to slip, but I hold on, teeth grit, thrusting the door open and tumbling inside. I wait for the impact to shatter me, for the wind to blow me onto the rocks.

It doesn't.

Maven grasps for my hand, barely in reach, his legs too weak from misuse to rival mine. I don't have to help him. I could laugh as he stumbles and falls, powerless to stop the train from carrying me away.

"For colors sake." His hand fits in mine like a lost glove now found as I haul him up. "You need to start Training again."

"Why, so you can watch?"

"In your dreams." His pulse pounds through my palm, rapid and relentless, a painful rhythm which cannot be faked or hallucinated. I don't need to hold his hand anymore.

But I don't let go.

At Whitefire, he was a ghost, fading beneath my touch into sleepless nights and desperate pleas. Ephemeral then, ephemeral now.

Silver trickles from a cut on his cheek, and I seal it with my lips. He laughs. "Did you miss me?"

I snort. "Not as much as you did."

My kiss presses him against the wall, drawing my name from his lips, my name, breathless and strained, like a drowning man gasping for air. Heat flares beneath my fingers, growing hotter as sparks dance on his forearm. He might burst into flames if I'm not careful.

It's manipulation.

This means nothing.

His hand leaves my cheek, and I whimper, a pathetic whine which draws him to my lips with renewed passion. You're in control.

Control.

"You're here." The words slip between pants, fevered and desperate. "You're real. I--" His collar tears with the force of my grip. "Don't leave."

"Never." Maven tugs me onto his lap. "We're staying together. Always." His gaze is intoxicating. "I love you."

I kiss him before I have to respond.

All the things he's done, the murders, the manacles, are distant as a dream, a muddied reflection the rain has washed clean. Focus. Ignore his silken voice and velvet tongue. Ignore the way he shifts to keep you comfortable. Ignore the hand tucked around your waist, and the other nestled in your hair.

He'll never let you go.

Everyone else has.

A/N: 

Eleanora: Imma kill you

Maven: *flirts with Mare*

Eleanora: Never mind this isn't worth it

Four chapters left!  Maven POV next, post on Monday