“And if I don’t?” she taunted. Okay, perhaps taunting was a bit childish.

He stalked towards her like a predator. Her first instinct told her to step back but she kept her ground, her chin tilting up. What would he do to her? It’s not like he’d hurt her.

She wasn’t afraid of him but that didn’t mean he didn’t unnerve the hell out of her. He stopped in front of her but she was ready to hold her own for whatever he dished out—maybe another tongue lashing or maybe he’d resort back to calling her witch. Only this time with a ‘b’ at the front.

However, he didn’t do any of those things. What he did do surprised the hell out of her...and scared her even more.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her roughly towards him, and then he leaned down and spoke in measured, slow tones. But, something was off in his voice. It sounded distorted. All she could think was that it sounded ‘demonic’. Harsh, slightly garbled, and dangerous.

“I am very close to losing myself right now, Abbigail. Control...your...anger.”

Abby’s anger fled in a flash. Something wasn’t right.

In fact, something was very wrong with him right now. His eyes started to glow amber. A dark, icy energy emanated from his body. It reminded her of her own magic but whereas hers was warmth and good, his felt like the cold hand of death. She’d made him this angry? She wanted to ask why, but one look at the toll it was taking on him kept her mouth shut.

Moving slowly, she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body thrummed with cold energy, nearly vibrating her with its crackling power. She rested her cheek against his chest, forcing all the negative energy and thoughts to disappear. Under her ear, she listened to the thundering beat of his heart—it was too loud, too fast.

The temperature dropped. A shiver started in her chest and worked its way to her fingers and toes in a matter of seconds. It truly was the cold of death.

Anger started to stride back up at the thought of this curse on him, but she shoved it back down ruthlessly. He needed her right now. And she could do this, she could bring him back down from whatever precipice he teetered at. She didn’t understand it, didn’t even get it, but she’d help him because she knew if it was her struggling, he’d help her in a heartbeat.

“Let it go, Alrik. Just let go of whatever holds you. Hold me instead.” His heartbeat thudded hard, once, at her words. As if his heart skipped a beat.

She held her breath, closed her eyes and simply held him. Puffy white clouds formed at her mouth as she breathed. Time passed slowly. She couldn’t begin to know just how much, minutes maybe. An eternity.

What felt hours passed and then an arm came around her, she could feel it trembling and she hoped it wasn’t from the effort it took not to hurt her. Happiness burst inside her. She wanted to cheer for him. She didn’t know what was in this haunted demon’s mind, but after seeing him like this she’d find out.

His chest stopped pumping so hard, his heartbeat slowed to a normal dum, dum, dum. When his other arm wrapped around her waist, she sighed and pressed a kiss over his heart.

The cold started to recede. Her shivering died down, but her nose still felt cold and it surely looked bright red about now.

Still hesitant, she slowly looked up. His eyes would show her what she needed to know. That would be the final tell. But when she looked up, his eyes were pressed closed, a look of intense pain on his face.

“Alrik...what’s wrong?” she asked in her softest voice.

The muscles along his forehead and mouth twitched and jerked as if they were being zapped with electrical impulses.

“Look at me, baby,” she coaxed.

She clenched her fingers in his shirt. She wanted to cry. Just seeing the agony written all over his face made her hurt inside. He was grappling with something but she didn’t know what. It was all inside him with that black, evil energy clouding around him like noxious gas. She wanted to wipe it all away with a snap of her fingers.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed then slowly he opened his eyes. The all black recesses looked darker. How there were different shades of black she wasn’t sure, but his eyes hadn’t been that black before. A shiver passed over her.

“Alrik, honey?”

As if finally hearing her voice, his head slowly turned down to her. The tarry ink of his eyes looked like a river of oil, no whites, no distinguishing pupil, just darkness. He blinked once, twice, again. Before her very eyes, she watched the darkness fade—not completely—but enough to transform the black color back to what she was used to—something close to a deep shade of blue or the darkest form of gray.

Her stupid heart raced and she recognized the awful feeling inside her for what it was—fear. For the first time since being kidnapped by him, Abby saw the control the curse could have over him. In this instance, he’d been able to control it. What would happen if he didn’t?

Reaching up, she cupped his cheek. A wet tear escaped her eye and she quickly stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips so he wouldn’t see it. Gasping, she jerked back from him.

His skin felt like ice.

A sob threatened to break from her throat but she held it back. What in the world was going on with him?

Gradually, slowly, he cocked his head, arms tightening around her, and his head dipped catching her lips. Warmth grew between them like the heat of the sun touching snow.

He reached, cupped her bottom in one big hand, and lifted her up against him with a growl. A surprised moan bubbled out of her. At this level their hips aligned and she could feel his cock, hard and ready pressing into her. The swift mood change had her struggling to keep up but she went with the flow, taking his kiss and giving it back.

His tongue dipped inside her mouth then retreated slowly, tasting her. As if some thread snapped, he dropped her to her feet in the next second and stormed away from her. He snatched his swords off the ground and slid them into the holster on his back. The man couldn’t even dress without keeping those sheathes on.

His eyes didn’t meet hers. “Let’s practice. I want you to try making fire now.” His voice sounded normal and not like the distorted demonic tone from before.

Abby was frozen in place, confused. So was this how they were going to play? Just act like nothing completely freaking bizarre had just happened? She didn’t think so.

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t you think you could explain what the heck just happened here?”

He started gathering up sticks and breaking them into pieces for a fire.

He didn’t look at her, and didn’t say a word

“You know, I don’t really take silent treatment so well.”

Alrik tossed some dried leaves on top of the pile of sticks and glared at her. “What do you care what happens to me?”

Her heart softened, eyes rounded. “I do care.” The admission felt like something so much more powerful that what she’d actually said.

He shook his head. “I told you already. It’s the curse.”

Abby sat down on a boulder sticking out the ground near the water. “I’ll try to start a fire and you are going to tell me all about it.” She made sure her voice left no room for argument. Besides, she knew something was off. They’d fought before but he hadn’t nearly hulked out like that. Well, maybe hulking out wasn’t quite the best term for it. He hadn’t been close to smashing the ground with his fists so much as...using dark magic. A nasty shudder passed over her.

Concentrating hard, she stared at the twigs and broken branches willing fire to spark and engulf it. Her temperature warmed almost as if she was already sitting near the warm flames.

“My mother cursed me with rage to control me. I never saw it, never felt the change overcome me. I’d actually,” he paused and rubbed a hand over the back his neck, “embraced it. It felt amazing to have that kind of power.”