Page 32 of Cursed

“You’re a terrible liar, sister.” His smile widened, revealing just enough of his teeth to remind me that danger lurked beneath that charming facade. “Surely, you’ve felt the pull of its power.”

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I repeated. “I— I don’t want you here.”

The grimoire’s whispers echoed louder in my mind and weaved through my thoughts like a serpent coiling tighter around my chest.

“Don’t be like that, Avril,” he coaxed. “You’ve felt it, I’m sure of it. I can see it in your eyes. Has it called to you? Even someone with magic as weak as yours would be able to feel its pull.”

The insult stung and my hands tightened into fists at my sides. “You have to leave—”

His laughter was light, but his eyes remained unwavering, probing deeper, seeing everything...He knew the truth.“Tell me, sister, have you tried any of its spells? Have you tasted its chaos yet?”

“Spells?” A grimace twisted my lips. “I— I don’t—” All of my defenses crumbled away and tears stung my lashes. “I just wanted—” My voice trailed off, a confession heavy on my tongue. But how could I admit to the allure that tugged at my very soul? How could I let him see the curiosity that lingered despite my fear?

“I know what you wanted.” Bastian leaned back slightly, and I wished I could decipher the expression on his unsettlingly handsome face. “Such noble intentions… But you must know, this kind of knowledge comes at a price.” He paused and his pale eyes seemed to grow colder. “The question is... are you willing to pay it?”

“A price— what price?” Heat rose to my cheeks as my indignation flared—but it was only to hide the fear that reared up beside it.

“Have you opened it?” he asked, ignoring my question. His long-fingered hand stroked over the book’s cover, and I remembered the way that same hand had stroked over my naked flesh.

I didn’t answer him, but I didn’t need to.

“I see… You know, Avril. Regret is just another form of longing… You long for what you cannot have, don’t you?” He tapped his fingers gently against the leather spine. “This book— it holds the key to your true potential, to powers beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Or madness,” I shot back, my voice firmer now. “I’ve read the stories about this book—about how its power consumed those who sought it.”

“Ah, the tales of caution.” He waved a dismissive hand and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “They’re all lies… Meant to scare off pious little Sages who didn’t know how to handle power. I’m not surprised the Academy peddled that story.” His tone was bitter, and I wondered what he had been like at school— “But aren’t you curious, Avril?” he asked. “What if you could wield that madness and turn it into something beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” I scoffed, though a part of me fluttered at the thought. “There’s nothing beautiful about what’s inside that book.”

He leaned back on his heels, regarding me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. “Is that so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of the whispers, are you?”

“I— I don’t know,” I admitted.

He tilted his head and a feline curiosity glimmered in his pale eyes. “They’re merely echoes of those who came before you—users of its dark gifts.”

“Gifts?” I echoed.

“Isn’t madness just another form of enlightenment?” Bastian’s lip curled and the casual nature of his tone made me flinch. “There are some who have been driven to… extremes in the pursuit of the knowledge in those pages. I would consider it an invitation to explore your limits... To taste the forbidden fruit.”

Forbidden.

Forbidden magic—and what else?

A chill wrapped around my heart at his words. I glanced back at the book, the leather cover seeming to pulse with an unholy life of its own.

“Do you think you can open it?” he continued, his expression shifting, suddenly serious and intense. “Can you bend the grimoire to your will?”

I’d already opened it… but by accident.

Could I do it again?

“You don’t think I can,” I blurted out.

He shrugged and rose to his feet. He approached me slowly and I fought to stay still as he drew near. He wanted me to cower and back away—I could see it in his eyes.

“A pale spark like you shouldn’t even be able to get close to that grimoire,” he hissed. “What makes you think you can control it—” And then something in his tone changed, and his eyes narrowed as he glared at me. “How did you get it? Did you steal it from my father’s library?”

Suddenly afraid, I took a step back. “I... I— Lucian gave it to me—”

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