Page 45 of Cursed

“Good,” he said, and satisfaction curled at the corners of his mouth. “This grimoire—it holds secrets far darker than you can imagine. You must tread carefully—” His gaze pierced through me, and I felt as naked and exposed as I had when I’d cowered on the floor of his study.

“Secrets,” I repeated as I tried to keep my expression neutral despite the tremors of fear coursing through my veins.

“Indeed,” he continued in a tone that was almost taunting. “The grimoire is centuries old and has tasted the blood of Sages and Necromi alike… To those who are able to fully comprehend its contents—” He leaned back and took a sip of his wine and then set it down on the table. His pale eyes burned into me. “Power demands loyalty, Avril. Betrayal is met with punishment. You, most of all, should understand that.”

Each syllable dripped with a chilling finality, and I nodded. The whispers in my mind were sharp, and I tried not to wince as pain lanced through my arm.

“Of course,” I murmured, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I understand.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Lucian’s mouth, and for a moment, he looked satisfied.

As he rose from the table, his silhouette loomed over me, a dark outline against the flickering candlelight. The dining room suddenly seemed smaller, more oppressive—an extension of Lucian’s malevolent aura.

“When the time comes, I know you will make a fitting bride,” he said. I stiffened at those words, and at the way unspoken threats lurked beneath his cordial tone. His pale gaze bored into me, seeking to unearth any sign of defiance or treachery.

I couldn’t speak, I could only incline my head.

It was enough for him—for now.

His fingers trailed over the bare skin of my shoulder and I gritted my teeth to keep from flinching away from his touch.

“Sleep well, Avril. We will speak again— very soon.”

As Lucian left the room, I sat alone with the remnants of an uncomfortable feast and the relentless whispers of the grimoire that surged in my mind.

Were they to be my constant companions now?

After a moment of oppressive silence, as though the air itself were too afraid to move in Lucian’s presence, I pushed my chair back from the table. My trembling hands folded my napkin meticulously, a temporary distraction from my racing thoughts.

The grandeur of Withermarsh was even more unsettling in Lucian’s absence, and I left the dining room as quickly as I could and rushed up the grand staircase to the safety of my room.

I had work to do.

I wasdesperate to tell someone about what our father had done— but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to Titus.

Not yet.

My older brother was unpredictable at the best of times, and when it came to Avril, I knew I had to tread carefully.

But Valen, he might be able to help me decide what to do. Or at least how to approach it.

We were close enough in age that we should have been the best of friends… but he was a bastard.

I’d spent most of my life hating him, especially when Lucian brought him to Withermarsh and pushed him between Titus and I.

Now he was an heir to the Romano legacy, just as I was.

Valen was always in the garage. If he wasn’t in the garden with his cursed plants, he would be buried to the elbows in his project motorcycle.

The garage rose before me, a shadowy cavern where the air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, a mixture that clung to my skin like an unwelcome embrace. I didn’t enjoy fixing my bike—I only wanted to ride it. Valen mocked me for my carelessness, but I didn’t give a shit. I had more important things to do than tinker like an old man.

My boots echoed against the floor, each step deliberate, but I wasn’t even sure that Valen could hear me over the thud of his music and the metallic cranking that echoed over the space.

Valen knelt beside his motorcycle, hands deep within the engine’s guts. His tousled brown hair obscured his eyes, and concentration etched his expression. The tension radiated off him, and for a moment, I pondered whether that focus stemmed from the task at hand or from something else— Had Avril stolen away his quiet moments, too? I didn’t want to admit how completely she’d captivated me.

And that little interlude in the shower had only sharpened my cravings.

“Hey,” I called out, “got time?”

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