Page 55 of Cursed

I wasn’t foolish—but Iwasdesperate.

Titus studied me with an intensity that made my stomach churn. “I won’t force you, sister. But I won’t wait forever. Every moment wasted is a moment you’ve lost to Lucian’s plans. Whatever they might be.”

The dark gleam in Titus’ eyes intensified. “Besides”—he gestured toward the grimoire, and the black stones shone menacingly—"what do you have to lose?"

My pulse quickened as I followed his gesture to look at the grimoire. Its whispers were loud in my ears, and I had felt the ancient magic thrumming beneath my fingertips, promising untold power and a chance to reshape my destiny.

“Perhaps you should consider this: while you hesitate, Lucian plots.Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to take hold of your own fate?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Get out, Titus.”

He shrugged. “As you wish, but the choice lies with you. Hunt or be hunted. It all hinges on that book.” He took a step closer, and I fought the urge to recoil as his icy fingers traced along my jaw. His presence was overwhelming, dark and magnetic, but I couldn’t let him draw me in. Not again.

“Choose carefully, little sister,” Titus murmured darkly. “But don’t take too long… Your time is running out.”

With those words, he pivoted and strode toward the door.

He didn’t look back as he crossed the threshold and left me alone in the oppressive stillness of my chamber.

My heart raced as I struggled to control my breathing and the grimoire’s whispers grew louder in my mind, coaxing me back to the vanity.

As I sank down into the chair and plucked the blackened silver dagger from the grimoire’s spine, I knew Titus was right—

If I wanted to survive this place, I had to make a choice.

Exhaustion and frustrationwere my constant companions.

Ever since Bastian had shown me how to awaken the grimoire, it occupied not only my thoughts, but my focus as well.

My hands and arms ached with half-healed cuts, but the pages of the grimoire were still a mystery to me.

I had half-translated a few pages— But with every attempt I made, I was met with more disappointment, and the sigils and symbols that writhed across the stained pages seemed to fade away faster each time my blood was absorbed into the parchment.

I sat in the window seat and stared out at the rain-soaked gardens and hugged my knees to my chest.

I’d done my best to forget what Titus had said—his promises were all lies.

I was sure of that.

I could never trust him. Or any of them.

But Bastian had helped me—

The creak of the door startled me and I spun around in fear.

I hadn’t heard anyone knock.

A servant stood in the doorway and I scrambled off the window seat and pulled my sleeves down to hide the strips of linen I’d tied around my cuts to act as makeshift bandages.

“What is it?” I blurted out.

I worried she would look around the room and report to Lucian about what she’d seen, but the woman’s gaze held mine steadily and her smile was brief. “Miss Velez— Master Lucian would like you to know that you are free to visit the gardens.”

“With an escort,” I said bitterly. I was instantly embarrassed by the sharpness of my tone, but her expression didn’t change.

“No,” she replied. “On your own.”

“Oh.”

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