The Kiss Curse: A Novel Novels & Stories

he murmured between kisses. “And you-“ she kissed him again, firmer this time, “-taste smug.” He chuckled against her lips, the sound vibrating through her chest. “Always.” Their mouths moved together, unhurried but desperate in the restraint. Each kiss was deeper than the last, building, circling, never quite giving in to the urgency crackling between them. Emma’s hands curled in his shirt, tugging him closer until there was no space left. His cologne mixed with the faint salt of whiskey on his breath, and she thought she might get drunk all over again just from him.

And I hate him for being right. The kiss comes before I can think. Soft at first, full of regret—like he knows this might be the first and last time. Our lips meet in careful acknowledgment, then ignite. His hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him, and my chest burns with his nearness. And I kiss him back. Not because I’m weak. But because, in the most painful way, I want to. I want to believe our bond is stronger than any curse. That his touch could save me from whatever waits in the dark.

My lips trembled, my heart raced, and my hands clung to his shirt. “I—” Before I could finish, he kissed me. His lips were warm, soft, and desperate. My mind screamed at me to stop, but my heart didn’t listen. I kissed him back, my arms wrapping around his neck. The kiss deepened, grew intense, almost like we were both pouring out everything we had kept inside. For once, I didn’t care about the curse. I didn’t care about my plan. I didn’t care about anything except the way he made me feel.

My chest felt even heavier. We got there without running into her father, thank the moon. The place smelled like old paper and herbs. I stood there awkwardly while she moved between shelves with confidence. She pulled out three books before finally landing on a fourth. She flipped through the pages fast, like she already knew what she was looking for. Then she stopped. “Here,” she said, pointing at the page. I walked over. She looked up at me, voice steady. “The curse is real.” I blinked. “What curse?”

Rarely sounded uncertain. “Different how?” ‘I do not know yet,’ he admitted. ‘Only that there is something about her that feels…more important than I believe she should be.’ I frowned immediately, “The curse.” ‘No.’ The answer came too quickly. Too confidently. ‘The curse has a feeling of force,’ Kael continued after a moment. ‘Heavy. Like obligation.’ I stayed quiet, because perhaps he wasn’t entirely wrong. ‘This just feels different.’ I leaned back against the headboard.

I whispered, the words slipping out like a confession I’d been holding for centuries. Her lips parted—whether to speak or to breathe, I couldn’t tell. And before she could decide, I closed the distance between us, pressing my mouth to hers. The moment our lips met, the world shifted—red lightning crackled through the chamber, shadows rippled along the walls, and I tasted the spark I’d been starved of for far too long.

"All of it. But I need you to just listen first and not try to fix anything while I'm talking. Can you do that?" She nodded once to show me I had all her attention. So I told her. I started from the beginning, from the goddess and the curse and the two hundred years of Elenora women who all ended the same way. I told her about the bond, how it worked, what it required, what it did to the Alpha on the receiving end of it. I told her about my grandmother and the twins and the way the curse had stuttered for exactly one generation. I told her about keeping away from my mother's story because I was scared of what I would find.

"Because I found something at the Bodleian. Old texts from your time. Writings on spells, curses, witches. I have been working on them for days, trying to decipher them. And I think I have." He handed me a book, his notes marked in the margin. "I think what we felt when we kissed was not just us. It was the curse. Reacting to you. And to me." I blinked at him. "What do you mean?" He guided my eyes to the passage he had underlined and read, his voice low and steady. "It says: Only the kiss of true love, the union of fated souls, creates a ripple strong enough to shatter the curse." The words blurred. A cold that had nothing to do with the window crept up my spine. I let out a sudden, incredul

"You want the crown. You want to sit on the throne and have the world bow to you. Don't lie and call it love. It’s greed, Caroline. And I respect greed. It’s honest." "It's not just greed!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "I want you. I want to be the one who finally makes you smile. I want to be the woman who breaks your curse with a kiss." I stared at her for a long moment, then I leaned back and let out a loud, mocking laugh. "A kiss? You’ve been reading too many fairy tales, little girl. My curse wasn't built by a kiss, and it won't be broken by one. Now, stop talking, your voice is starting to annoy me."

Estera was talking, looking around trying to reach the source of the sound, but to no avail, she sat on the ground while holding her ears in great pain "Please, the curse it hurts, help me." She stood there, screaming at the top of her voice "Who are you, what a curse , how can I help you?" She turned back when she felt someone standing behind her, she looked at him, his features were not clear, it was a mysterious person He approached from her while she retreated back, but she was surprised by his hands pulling her to him, then he puts his face in her neck and kisses her slowly there She felt strange feelings in her stomach, as if butterflies were flying in, tickling her