Jaclyn Roche
Curse Breaker Sneaky Peek
Updated: Apr 10, 2020
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He was there, as he always was, when she slept. She couldn’t remember a time when Viktor wasn’t there. The beast of her nightmares and the lover of her dreams. Viktor—or his cursed side, the minotaur—awaited her return each night in the between, the world betwixt this and the beyond. She never knew which one he would be until he appeared to her.
Kalissandra Doe smiled at her luck. Viktor’s footfall echoed as if they were in a darkened chamber with an inch of water at the feet. She could see nothing of the beyond. Just him and his approach. He was lit as if on a stage; the light bringing him forward to her. She drank in every detail of the man molded to life from a Grecian statue.
He towered over her when he was in his minotaur form, the beastly side of him was intense and intrigued her when in the safety her dreams. What was it like for him to live his life as a monster with their limited time the only escape from his curse? Kali wished she knew, but didn’t dare ask and waste precious seconds. Should they every meet in truth, she convinced herself that she’d be petrified of the creature with its’ half-bull, half-man transfiguration. Afraid of the gigantic horns jutting from his head that could gouge her should he drop them and charge her. Viktor promised that couldn’t happen. He swore his fiend would obey her command. How he knew that was another mystery to her.
His olive eyes, no matter man or creature, belied an intelligence and maturity beyond Viktor’s twenty-five years with a savage madness lurking beneath, as if the minotaur were close to emerging. His gaze caught upon hers and softened, crinkling revealing premature crow’s feet etched into the corners. His chestnut hair was tousled and unkempt like he recently woke from a deep sleep. A boyish grin stretched across his chiseled superhero-like visage. The playful smiles he gifted her appeared to come easy to him as if he were the happiest of men full of hope and joy; not cursed with darkness beyond her or anyone’s imagination. Kali wished that happiness came easily for her as it did him. The darkness in her refused to retract its’ tendrils except when here with him. It would slacken its grip enough for her to feel something other than broken inside. How lucky she was for these few snatched minutes in life. She could pretend during these magical episodes that he was hers and she was his. In these daydreams, or the between, whichever this was, at least...
Viktor’s hand covered hers and sent tingles to her toes. Kali’s eyes drifted closed. Finally. She lived for these moments. Even when his hand wasn’t as solid as it was now. Their encounters made her feel less alone in the world beyond. Viktor was her savior and she wanted to remain here in this world with him, always, but that wasn’t possible. Either she faded and woke, or he faded leaving her in the between alone and afraid. She often wondered if the Doctors were right and she had a dissociative disorder. Deep down she knew. She knew nothing was wrong with her. The idea of all this might seem unimaginable and made-up, but it was real. It had to be.