Page 67 of Cursed

But I know one thing that gives me hope, and I say it out loud to make myself remember. “Shayla’s alive. The bond, it’s still there.”

Arden grunts and nods. “But it doesn’t look hopeful.”

“Hey, what about your aunt?” I ask. “She can heal without the link, right? And shouldn’t Myra be monitored by someone like her anyway?”

“But she’s at the academy.” Arden frowns.

“The faeries’ network goes beyond the academy’s walls. I could wait outside the perimeter in the forest, create a portal, and bring your aunt here.”

“Uh, I guess…” he mutters.

“Do you trust her?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Some of the weight the druid carries lifts with the idea of his aunt joining us.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for us to hear back from the faeries, but I have a bigger problem. I’m drained and don’t have enough magic for the trip there. From what I’ve read in the dossier my father has on Ms. Boyd, she has enough magic and training to open the portal back.

We shut the door of the smaller room, so we won’t disturb Myra with our comings and goings. Arden just left to recharge his magic in his sacred circle.

That leaves Rourke and me alone. He moves awkwardly through the main room. We both know I have to feed.

It almost feels like this is the first time I needed to feed from him—the first time we hooked up.

We had been getting to know each other at the elite boarding high school our parents had shipped us off to. My father had sent me there specifically to make friends with the other heirs of powerful families.

I wasn’t as popular as he had hoped. The other students feared me. And rightfully so. I was a trained assassin by then.

His only test I hadn’t passed was harming someone I cared about—my sister. Every time my father tested me, he upped the stakes. Next time, I knew he expected me to not only hurt her but kill her. And I had refused.

He had been disappointed in her developing powers, and he needed to test me. I doubt he cared that we were distantly related in some way, and I knew he would easily place me on the sacrificial altar next, if need be.

Before attending Shadowcraft Academy, Rourke and I ended up in the same dorm with two other guys at the boarding school. We’d often hang out, study together, or check out parties. Normal dude stuff.

However, I swore I felt Rourke watching me when I wasn’t looking.

I remember the day everything changed…

* * *

I returned to school from a weekend visit to my father. I had barely survived his latest test. He wanted me to kill my sister, but I refused, and she had been compelled by his vampiric magic to gut me.

My adoptive mother heard about it and patched me just enough so I’d probably survive. She was upset that her husband had almost wasted a resource that they had invested a lot of money in training. Yet, she only gave me a basic stitch-up and no painkillers. If I wanted to heal properly or survive, I had to feed on my sister and kill her in the process.

So I returned to school with my guts barely contained by the rough patchwork.

When Rourke saw me shuffling into our dorm, he immediately knew something was wrong—that I had been hurt.

“What happened to you?” His strong hands stopped me and braced me to face him. “Did your father hurt you?”

I had hinted things weren’t great. And we had previously commiserated about just how shitty our parents were.

“Let me see.” With how I had defensively covered my belly, he knew my wound was to my abdomen. He pulled up my shirt, and I turned away as he did. I couldn’t bear to see his pity for me.

My pants were low, so they wouldn’t dig into my stitches.

His hot finger skimmed the bruised and bloodied slice. “Fuck. I’m going to kill him,” Rourke promised.

---