Page 39 of Cursed

But it was just as thrilling to see the grimoire’s actual face unveiled now as it had been when I’d first discovered the true magic of those ancient pages.

“Every secret comes with a price,” I said. “But the darkness is patient… and it always keeps its promises.”

The air around us pulsed, heavy with the weight of dark magic, as I leaned closer to her. The faint glow of the grimoire illuminated Avril’s face and carved her delicate features into sharp angles. I couldn’t help but relish the conflict that twisted in her eyes.

She likes it.

She was perfect—teetering on the edge of the abyss.

I pushed my face close to hers, intent on capturing her slightly parted lips in the kiss I’d wanted to take from her since the moment I stepped into the room, but she let out a sharp cry and pushed me away.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Don’t you want my help?”

“You got what you wanted,” she said petulantly, but I could feel her lust blooming just below the surface, hidden by indignation. But it was a thin veneer.

I laid the dagger down on the vanity, and Avril flinched at the sight of my blood on the blade.

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and wrapped it around my hand to staunch the wound I’d made.

“Did I?” I countered as I took the end of the handkerchief in my teeth and pulled a knot tight against the side of my hand. “Good luck, Avril— you’ll need it.”

“Where are you going?” she demanded, and she spun in her chair as I strode toward the door. “Bastian! Bastian, wait! The symbols— they’re fading! Come back here!”

I smiled at the desperation in her voice. “You know how to bring them back, little bird,” I said. “Just— don’t get too eager. The grimoire is a hungry beast.”

I didn’t wait for her to argue.

She’d already begged me to return once.

And she would beg for my help again.

As the door opened to allow me to step over the threshold, the shadows seemed to stretch toward me, eager to envelop their master.

“Bastian—”

With a flick of my fingers, the door slammed shut and muffled her plea for help.

With a purposeful stride, I descended the stairs and paused just once to look back at Avril’s door before continuing on.

I knew I should talk to Titus.

Why had Lucian given Avril the grimoire?

It was a sign— but a sign of what I couldn’t be certain.

Perhaps it was an omen of power shifting within our family— What if Titus was right?

Maybe Luciandidintend to replace us.

As much asI hated to admit it—Bastian was right.

Lucian hadn’t gifted me the grimoire for any other purpose but to test me.

If I refused…

I didn’t want to think about what would happen to me if I did.

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