Page 150 of Cursed

More footsteps, and I giggled softly—I felt drunk—strange.

The cool air of my bedroom enveloped me and I let out a soft sigh. I was safe here.

The door slammed shut behind us and the lock clicked.

Bastian’s laugh sounded uneasy.

“Did she just do that?”

“I think she did,” Titus replied.

I was laid gently onto the cool luxury of my coverlet and I moaned as the heat of Bastian’s body was stripped away from me. I blinked as I struggled to make sense of the swirling colors and shapes around me. My stepbrother’s faces loomed above, concern etched in their features, though I caught the flicker of something darker lurking behind their eyes.

“What do we do now?”

“Lucian said to take care of her,” Bastian said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Let’s get her undressed.”

“Careful,” Valen snarled, but there was no bite in his words. Their fingers brushed over my skin and lifted me gently to my feet. The feel of their hands on my body sent jolts of awareness coursing through my muddled senses. There was a gentleness to their touch, and an intimacy that made my heart race despite my fragile state.

An intimacy I had missed.

“Look at you, Avril,” Bastian murmured. His voice was low, almost reverent, and he pressed his lips against the scars on my wrists.

“Watch it, Bastian. This isn’t the time—” Valen said. His brow furrowed as they continued to peel away the layers of delicate fabric that separated me from their gaze. Each tug of my clothing felt like a strip of my defenses dropping away, exposing the vulnerability beneath. I could feel their eyes on me, assessing, unraveling, and I hated how much I craved their approval even now.

Once they freed me from my clothes, they wrapped me in a soft robe and guided me to the bathroom.

I thought I’d heard water.

“Or was it applause?”The grimoire’s whispers had returned, and I bit back a moan.

I didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to think about Clara’s wide blue eyes—

But there they were, staring up at me.

Full of rage and fear.

“No—”

“Come on,” Valen coaxed. “You’ll feel better—”

The bathtub was full and Bastian turned off the tap with a flick of his fingers.

The scent of lavender and salt wafted up from the steaming water, soothing yet strange after the past few hours’ assault on my senses.

Valen dipped his fingers into the water to test its warmth before Bastian guided me closer.

“Come on,” he urged softly, almost tenderly. But as I hesitated, Bastian leaned in and reached around my waist to tug at the belt of my robe. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured. “We’re just trying to help.”

Help.

The last time I’d asked them for help, they’d used me and thrown me on the floor in a naked, sweaty and cum-covered heap.

And while I’d used them in return—and taken slivers of their magic—I wasn’t sure if they’d paid for their crimes.

Not really.

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