Page 53 of Cursed

I wrenched the door open, prepared for confrontation. But instead of Bastian’s unsettlingly angelic face, Titus loomed over me—his presence was both magnetic and menacing. His jet-black hair fell in disarray around his sharp features, and his eyes glinted with animalistic delight. A chill ran down my spine, and I instinctively took a step back.

“What do you want?” My voice wavered, and deep down I knew I had no authority over him—and the spells that should have kept him out were far too weak to protect me now. He stepped closer, invading my space without invitation, and the doorway suddenly felt smaller—stifling.

The shadows seemed to deepen around him and enhanced his aura of cruel confidence as the weight of his gaze locked me in place.

“Avril, you haven’t been to the library lately— Perhaps something else is occupying your time?” Mock concern filled his voice as he glanced over my shoulder and into the room. He tilted his head slightly as his gaze slid back to me, and an infuriating smirk curled at the edges of his lips.

The grip I had on the edge of the door tightened as I fought the urge to slam it shut. “Leave. Now.” The words came out as sharply as I intended, but they still sounded weak in my ears.

I refused to let him toy with me—not again.

“Oh, but why would I?” he countered. He took a breath, testing the limits of the spells that had been cast over my door, and then he stepped closer. I skittered back, and he entered my sanctuary with an unsettling grace. The darkness in the room seemed to coil around him like a lover, and I swallowed hard as my knees weakened.

I swallowed hard, but my throat was dry as sandpaper. “What do you want, Titus?” The words escaped between clenched teeth. I hated how much his presence unsettled me—but more than that, I hated the way my body responded to him.

I wondered if he knew.

“To help you, of course,” he said smoothly. “You’re struggling, sister— The grimoire is… powerful, and it’s painfully obvious that you need assistance.”

“I— I don’t need your help,” I choked out. “I’m doing fine. It’s fine.”

The grimoire lay on my vanity, dark and foreboding, and its whispers twisted inside my mind. I had spilled too much of my own blood and learned nothing—and the markings were fading faster every time I tried.

“Why would you help me?” I blurted out.

“Don’t you see?” he said, his tone almost hypnotic. “With my guidance, you could awaken the true potential hidden within that book. You could be free of this place— Free from Lucian—”

“Or I could lose everything,” I shot back, anger flaring beneath the surface. “You’ve betrayed me before, Titus. Why would this time be any different?”

He chuckled softly, but the sound was low and dangerous and it sent a ripple of unease through me. “You have my word,” he said. “My only interest lies in seeing you thrive. Don’t you want to unravel the mysteries of that book— You have a birthright, too, Avril. You can unlock what’s rightfully yours.”

I stood frozen for a moment, but then anger flickered inside me like a candle flame caught in a gust—hot and wild, yet fragile enough to be extinguished at any moment. “You think I’devertrust you?” I spat. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and the wounds on my wrists and hands ached with the force of my grip.

I swayed on my feet, suddenly dizzy, and Titus took a leisurely step forward, and his smirk widened. The shadows cast by the firelight and the candles I’d lit so many hours ago danced across his sharp features, and accentuated the gleam in his dark blue eyes.

“Why must you be so dramatic?” He stepped closer and invaded my space with an unsettling ease. The scent of damp earth and decay mingled with the acrid tang of dark magic that clung to him like a second skin.

My throat tightened as I fought the urge to recoil from his proximity. Each calculated movement of his felt like a taunt, a reminder of how utterly trapped I was within these walls— “What do youreallywant? You’ve done enough harm already.”

“My only intention is to help you unlock the power hidden within that grimoire. Nothing more.”

He was lying.

The whispers in my mind swelled in agreement.

“Help?” I scoffed, incredulity bubbling to the surface. “How thefuckdo you think I could ever accept your help?” My fists tightened further, and my nails dug into my palms, grounding me against the dizzying allure of his words. “You’re just like Lucian—manipulative and deceitful.”

He stepped back slightly and an expression of mock disappointment crossed his sharp features. “That’s not fair, Avril. I’m not your captor. I’m offering you a chance to break free from my father’s grip.” His eyes sparkled with a dark amusement, as if he were savoring my uncertainty— feeding on it.

“Freedom comes at a price,” I replied sharply. “Doesn’t it? Everything has a price in this house—”

His laughter swirled around me and I staggered just a little.

It would be so easy to agree.

I was so tired.

So… tired.

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