Page 106 of Wicked Court

There’s a throbbing ache in my middle. I’m almost positive I’m bleeding between my thighs from that bestial thing around his dick, but rather than clean myself up, all I want to do is go to him.

Doubt gnaws at me as I carefully lift a soft blanket from his bed and drape it over my shoulders, joining him on the balcony.

Without a word, I use one half of the blanket to draw him closer.

Cav’s gaze remains fixed on the darkness that cloaks the ancient forest surrounding our campus. He seems oblivious to my presence, numb to the world around him.

The doubt becomes permanent when I realize the warmth of my touch will never penetrate the ice encasing his heart.

Yet, against all odds, I hold on to hope even though the wind through the trees seems to whisper warnings of our impending demise. He is not Romeo, and I’m not Juliet. Cav simply needs time. Time for his wounds to heal. Time to realize that what we share is worth fighting for.

I’ll wait as long as it takes.

As the faint stars twinkle overhead, I make a silent vow. I will not let these broken, tormented men continue to shatter.

“Listen closely, Elara.”

Cav’s voice yanks me into the present.

“I’m only going to say this once. I don’t want to, but I need you to understand the gravity of what you’re toying with.”

“Okay.”

I stare ahead with him, uncertain what else he could possibly confess after our last conversation.

“Centuries ago, the Nightshades, my family, betrayed an innocent woman. Sarah Anderton.”

My grip tightens on the blanket draped over my shoulders.

“We handed her over to the Church, watched as they screamed ‘witch’ and condemned her to death. All for the promise of her gold, for her blood-soaked jewels.”

“What?” I whisper in disbelief.

I frantically search through what I’ve learned, how Sarah was paid in jewelry to poison nobles and how that fortune was lost, despite her torture and the cruelty of her daughter’s death. She never confessed the location, and treasure hunters, criminals, and tourists have been looking for it in Titan Falls ever since.

Cav’s ancestors are the ones who put her to death?

By all accounts, the Nightshades stopped a murderer. It’s something to be proud of, yet he says it like it’s a confession.

Finally, Cav turns to me, his breathing steady, unnervingly calm.

“My ancestor, Jackson Nightshade, didn’t stop there. He damned many more women and girls by doing so and even stole Sarah’s daughter’s child.”

“But…” I can’t stop blinking. I’m struggling to process the information he so casually reveals. “I don’t understand. What other girls? What women?”

Cav lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the fact that Sarah Anderton’s daughter had a child who disappeared from history along with her. A child you’re descended from. Ah,” he says, noticing his mic drop didn’t fall very far. “You already knew.”

I nod.

“Then ask your Vulture friend, Tempest, about the girls and women the Andertons were trying to save.”

“But that makes no sense ... Sarah was a killer, not a savior.”

He throws off the blanket I had carefully placed around him. “Sarah accomplished one thing before she died. She cursed my entire fucking bloodline for betraying her, and we have been paying the price ever since.”

“Wait.” I resist rubbing my hands across my face in an effort to keep up with him. “You believe you’re cursed because of something your ancestors did?”

My words carry skepticism, challenging him in a way that seems to sting.

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