Page 157 of Cursed

Titus’ eyebrow rose. “What?”

“Your word.”

I jumped up from the chaise and pushed past Titus to where the Bloodstone Grimoire lay on my vanity. The blackened silver dagger was nestled in the spine of the ancient book, and I pulled it free with deft fingers.

It was light in my palm.

Lighter than the polished stone blade I had wielded in the catacombs.

I approached the chaise with the dagger raised.

“Your word,” I repeated.

Valen’s eyes widened as he looked at his brothers.

“You— you can’t be serious,” Bastian choked out as he sat up straight.

Valen extended his arm. “A blood vow,” he said.

“Valen—” Titus’ voice was thick with warning, but I didn’t have time to wait.

“Not just any vow,” I said. “Crimson Veil.”

Titus recoiled, and Bastian let out a choked honk as he jumped up from the window seat.

“Do you know what you’re asking? Does she know what she’s asking?” Bastian cried.

“I think she does,” Valen said.

Blood vows were unbreakable, set in stone and flesh, binding all parties involved until death or fulfillment of the vow—but this one—this one guaranteed death if the vow was broken. It was not something to be taken lightly.

“If you don’t intend to betray me, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said casually.

Bastian continued to splutter incoherently, his hair a golden halo around his head in the gloomy light of my elegant bedroom. Titus glanced between us all, his expression unreadable.

“Avril— How… How do you even know about this spell? The Crimson Veil isn’t… it’s not something entered into lightly.”

Valen didn’t flinch.

I stepped forward until the glinting edge of the dagger was inches away from Valen’s arm. His dark eyes never left mine, and I held his gaze defiantly as I answered Titus. “I’m well aware,” I said.

I knew a moment like this wouldn’t come again, and I needed this assurance. I needed them bound to me, unable to betray or abandon me as everyone else had done before—as they had done so easily.

“You’reallinsane,” Bastian shouted.

Titus didn’t respond, but he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to expose his arm and held it out to me.

Bastian let out a furious groan. “Fine! But if anything happens, I’m coming back to haunt all of you, and Iwon’tbe cute about it.”

He ripped off his jacket, threw it on the floor, and stomped over to us. His pale eyes burned into mine as he pushed up his sleeve. “Do it, stop fucking around.”

I teetered on the edge of the decision as I stared down at the three extended, willing arms.

“This is what you wanted,”the grimoire whispered.“Bind them—use them.”

I took a breath and forced my shaking hand to guide the dagger’s edge to Valen’s arm first. His skin was warm under my fingers and as I pressed down. He flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

I cut across his flesh—a quick but deep incision. Blood welled up from the wound almost instantly, a crimson river that coursed down his arm. His breath hissed between his teeth, but he said nothing.

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