Page 50 of Cursed

“What about her?”

I’d done my best not to think about her—but it was a battle that I’d lost far too many times.

“She— She’s been—” Valen’s voice faltered.

“Spit it out!”

“Lucian gave her the grimoire,” Bastian said.

A laugh tore from my throat before I could stop myself. But my brothers’ expressions didn’t change.

“Impossible!”

Bastian crossed his arms over his chest. “Not impossible. I’ve seen it.”

Valen looked at Bastian in surprise— It seemed they were still keeping secrets from each other.

Good.

I couldn’t have them allied.

“Andwhy, brothers, would our father bestow such a gift on someone like Avril?” I asked. My tone was dangerous, and Valen’s shoulders straightened by a subtle measure. Both of them were on edge, and I could feel the pulse of their magic just below the surface. “Why would he put such a weapon in the hands of a traitor’s daughter?”

“Believe what you will,” Bastian replied, his tone light. “But she has the grimoire—”

“We have to help her,” Valen said. “This changes everything—”

“Does it?” I roared, the air around me was alive with crackling energy, and dark threads of magic spiraled into existence like a storm unleashed. I thrust my hand out and relished the raw power surge that surged through me, a living entity that demanded release. In one swift motion, I directed it toward my brothers and my fury manifested into a violent blast of pale green light.

The spell slammed into Valen and Bastian and sent them crashing against the stone walls with bone-rattling force. The sound echoed like thunder in the small chamber, and for a moment, satisfaction bloomed within me as they crumpled to the ground.

“Cowards,” I growled. The remnants of my magic still crackled in the air and pale green smoke rose around my hands and twined around my wrists like living things.

Stone dust clung to the air, and the acrid scent of magic hung heavy around us.

Valen struggled to his feet and shook off the remnants of my fury, while Bastian groaned and propped himself up against the jagged wall.

“Get up,” I commanded, and my voice echoed through the silence.

Valen straightened and brushed dust from his clothes, the brooding intensity in his eyes igniting once again. “Titus,” he began, his voice steady despite the tremor of pain beneath the words. “We can’t let Avril slip through our fingers. If she possesses the Grimoire—we must win back her trust.”

Win her back?

“And why would we do something like that?”

Memories of our betrayal flashed before me—the glimmer of her trusting gaze and her full lips parted in lust while we took her.

“She came to us for protection before,” Valen countered, meeting my icy glare with a flicker of defiance. “I think we can—“ He paused for a moment to haul Bastian to his feet, but my youngest brother slapped his hand away. Valen frowned and then turned his attention back to me. “She doesn’t want to marry Lucian,” he finished.

“And what makes you think he’s going through with it?” I countered.

But I already knew the answer.

If he’d given her the grimoire, he’d already made up his mind.

“And why is that our problem, Valen?” I sneered, my gaze darting between my two brothers.

“You should know better than anyone,” Bastian said. He grimaced as he pushed himself to his feet and slapped at the dust on his clothes. “If she masters the grimoire—she’ll be under his power.” He glared at me incredulously. “Lucian willreplace usat the first opportunity. All he has to do is put a brat in her belly andwe’llbe pushed out! Don’t you get it!?!”

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