A curse — much like the idea of divinity — was something science had yet to verify.
I never believed in spirits. Naturally, something as ridiculous as a curse was even harder to swallow.
"You're spouting nonsense." I said, my voice clipped.
I braced my palm against Jasper's chest to shove him away, but instead, he grabbed my hand and guided it beneath the folds of his robes.
Not with lust, but with purpose.
He wanted me to feel it: the uneven, ridged texture of his skin beneath my fingertips. The place where his heartbeat should've been… but wasn't. It beat too slowly, far too slowly for any normal person.
"Can you feel it?" he said softly. "It's dying. Slowly rotting away."
With my hand still against his chest, he pushed the fabric aside and let the robe slide down his shoulder, exposing what lay beneath.
