I continued working my way through the boxes, when there was a knock on my door.

"C-come in?"

It sounded like Karen, so I was not overly surprised when she stepped into my room.  I resisted the urge to cower down behind the remaining boxes out of her sight, but my eyes still fled to the furthest corner of the room.

"Looks like you've been working hard," she commented.

I nodded.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

I still had no appetite, but I knew it was probably around supper time.  I nodded.

"We're having spaghetti tonight."

I used to like spaghetti quite a lot, but it sounded about as tasteless as the rest of the food I had eaten since I had been here.

Either way, if I were not obedient the curse would punish me, so I dutifully made my way towards the door and followed Karen out of the room, down the hall and into the kitchen.

By the increasing fear running from my wound through the rest of my body, I knew Serge was in the kitchen and was not surprised to find him there, although I could not look at him.  I scurried to my habitual place in the dining area and stared at the far wall.

I could hear Karen speaking to Serge.  "Need any help?" she asked.

"Sure, take this to the table," he said.  I felt my hairs raise at the sound of his gravelly voice.

A plate was put in front of me and I looked at it, long noodles and tomato sauce and a slice of thick garlic bread.  I could smell it and I was certain it smelled appetizing, yet I could not find a desire in myself to want to eat it.  It could have been stale crusts of bread and water as far as my interest was concerned.

Karen sat down across the table and I was terribly aware that Serge took a chair at a right angle to me.  I stared at the plate until I heard their forks clinking against their plates.

I swallowed and picked up my own fork and began the painstaking task of feeding myself.  My family would be upset if I starved myself and the curse would probably punish me if I even tried to do so.  I twirled the pasta and placed it in my mouth.

Karen and Serge were talking together about general pack matters, their tones probably subdued more than they would have been had I not been there.  I swallowed my bite and tried to listen past the nervous buzz in  my ears.

I took another bite and tried to convince myself there was nothing to fear.  Karen was super nice and Serge seemed to be trustworthy.  I was probably as safe here as I was at home with my own family.

But no amount of reason could banish the anxiety the curse continued to thread through me.

I remembered his picture before the cold fog obscured it.  I tried to make myself look at him.  I told myself there was nothing wrong with looking at the faces of other people, but it was as if my eyes had lost their ability to function normally.

I tried to make myself look at Karen and I had a bit more luck, I managed to see the orange knit of the sweater on her shoulder before my eyes fled to the ceiling.

It was progress.  Focus on the positive progress, I ordered myself.  I was marginally less shaky and fearful than the moment I had first been cursed. 

Then I realized I had been forgetting to eat and felt panic flood me.  I fumbled for my fork.

It slipped from my fingers and my heart stopped.

It clattered to the floor.

I froze.  My heart resumed its function, beating as if I were about to die.

I was not about to die because I dropped a fork.  I tried to remind myself of how the situation did not warrant such a ridiculous reaction.

I leaned down to get it, but as I reached for the fallen utensil, he did the same thing.

His fingers brushed mine and it burned like ice.  I abandoned my attempt to pick up the fork with a yelp as I nearly fell out of my chair.

"I'll get you a new one," Karen announced loudly and she rushed over to the kitchen and returned with a new utensil.  She placed it by my plate.

I picked it up with my trembling fingers.

Karen seemed to have decided it was up to her to fill the awkward silence after my nervous gaff.

"So, I think tomorrow we could go for a run after breakfast if you want, Elise," she suggested.

I nodded.  I remembered that I had used to love that not long ago.

"And then perhaps I'll help you finish unpacking, if you want."

"O-okay," I agreed.

"And perhaps we could watch a movie, or you can look through the pictures again."

A movie seemed like a perfectly passive activity, but I could not summon anything beyond apathy for the idea.  I certainly did not want to look at the photos again, but I agreed with a nod anyway.  Disagreeing was too frightening.

Karen paused.  "I've got to get home now.  You can get back to your room alone, Elise?"

I nodded.  I already wanted to retreat, but my plate was still half full.  I had not even touched the garlic bread.  I knew they wanted me to eat.

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Karen," Serge said.

"G-good n-night," I mimicked.

I heard her walk away and then the sound as the door opened and closed behind her.  I made myself keep eating, bite after bite.  I kept my gaze away from him.

I heard my false leader stand up; he must have finished already.  He walked into the kitchen and there came the sound of water running and dishes clanking.  Every sound made me flinch and I forced myself to keep eating until all that was left on my plate was a bit of sauce and crumbs.  I set my knife and fork down carefully on top.

I felt like I could probably escape to my room, but I could not make myself move so I sat there frozen, listening to him as he cleaned up after supper.

I had heard him a few times once I was in bed, the light sound of creaking movement after Karen left at night, but this was worse.  There were no solid walls or doors between me and him, just empty air and a few measly obstacles.  I swallowed past the nervousness that was sweeping me.

I glanced down at my plate.  I could probably clean up after myself, surely the curse would allow that much.  Then maybe I could use that momentum to escape down the hall.

I pushed up from the table and picked up the plate.  It trembled in my hands, but I carried it to the kitchen on shaky legs.  My neck under the bandage prickled as I walked closer to him.

"Thanks," he said as he took it from me.  I was careful not to let his skin touch mine again and it seemed he had the same idea.  I caught the briefest glance of his hands, so much larger than mine.

He was probably close to twice my weight.  No wonder I had not stood a chance against him as a wolf.  I shivered at the memory of his teeth sinking into the flesh on the back of my neck.

"Are you going to rest now?" he asked calmly, but I could hear a catch in his voice.

"C-can I?" I asked.

"Of course," he agreed.  "You should do whatever you please," he reminded me.

I could not think of anything I pleased anymore.  The only thing I wanted was relief from the curse and there was no way I was going to get that while the both of us were alive.

This was my life until I died.

Or until he did.

The curse wracked through me again as if it were trying to rip me in two for even considering his end.  I could barely breathe and I crumpled to the floor.

I heard the sound of his knees hit as he dropped down beside me.

"What happened?" he asked.  He sounded concerned.  The curse stabbed me.

I shook my head.  "I-I'm fine," I managed to get out.

"You're not fine," he said.

"I am," the curse lied for me.

"Elise, this is an order.  Tell me the truth," he said.

I shivered as I felt the chains of magic that were holding back my tongue released and I spoke, but whether it was me or the magic I could not say.

"I thought about how the curse would be lifted if you were to die and it hurt me.  I know what you did was an accident, but I hate you for this," I said.  I instantly regretted my harsh words.

And for the first time ever, I looked directly at his face.

It was a mask of calm, but the mask could not hide the pain and guilt in his hazel eyes.  My eyes darted away as my guilt surged to match his own.

"I'm so sorry," I said, but it was too late to take back the bitter truth.

I hated the results of my feelings expressed as words.

His order for honesty apparently also broke the dam of fear and I burst into a flood of tears.

* *  *   *   *   *   *  * *

I could tell he was watching me while I cried and the prickling anxiety began to creep slowly back.

"You don't have to be sorry about anything, Elise.  You followed my order perfectly."

His words sent the shivers into retreat, just a bit.

"You should hate me," he said and I froze as he sat beside me.  So close I could almost feel the heat radiating from his side into my icy flesh.

I could not have protested even if I had wanted to, but I did not want to so my inability was irrelevant.

"I'm glad you to hate me.  I don't think I could bear your forgiveness."

I had no more words, so I just sat there.  I felt warm.  I should have probably been more afraid than ever, but somehow this proximity did not make my fear worse.

"I should forgive y-you," I whispered.

"Perhaps one day, once the curse is gone," he said.

"I-it might n-n-never be gone," I pointed out. 

"I will find a way to rid you of this," he said.  I glanced towards him.  He was looking across the room, still maintaining his pretense of calm, but I could feel his heart beating harder than it would have been if his façade was truth.

"I've never hated anyone, not really.  Maybe the eastern king for everything he's done to our people, but no one I know.  I don't want to hate y-you."

"No one's perfect, but I suspect you're closer to that ideal than some of us."

I let out a low chuckle at his words.  "I'm not," I said and building fear seized me for arguing with him.

"I've wondered," he said.  "Could I order you not to experience the curse?"

"I don't know," I said, but the curse raged against his suggestion.  The shivers told me it did not want to let me go.

I thought he was watching me.  "Elise, I order you not to feel the curse."

I felt the weight lift of me, I felt the shaking stop and I felt completely still.  It felt so good.

"Did it work?" he asked.

* *  *   *   *   *   *  * *