Page 63 of Cursed

I carried her through the silent house and up the grand staircase to her room. When Lucian first moved her into this suite, the sigils on the door kept us out—but they had weakened enough to let us back in.

Bastian spied on her through her mirrors, and I…

Well.

Now her dreams were my playground.

But this was different.

The door swung open with a soft creak, revealing a sanctuary that felt foreign and hauntingly intimate all at once. The last time I had been in this room—was the night we had betrayed her.

I laid her down gently on the bed and was struck by how pale she looked against the rich damask coverlet.

“Avril—”

She didn’t stir.

I could have left her there—rang for the servants to come and care for her.

But I felt somehow… responsible for her current state.

It wasn’t my fault—

The malevolent pulse of the Bloodstone Grimoire was thick in the room, a barely concealed presence, and I glanced over my shoulder to where it lay on her vanity.

I grabbed her arm and pulled up the sleeve of her cashmere sweater dress.

Freshly healed wounds criss-crossed her forearm, and dark blood soaked into a fresh bandage on her hand.

She’d been using it.

Of course she had.

More than she should have.

Damn Bastian for showing her how to awaken the cursed thing.

With trembling hands, I reached into the well of my magic and allowed its essence to flow through me.

The air thickened with energy as I focused and poured my power into her. Soft tendrils of shimmering blue smoke wound around her slender form and brushed against her pale cheeks like a lover’s caress. I invoked the gentle currents of healing, channeling warmth and comfort—the incantations were strange on my lips, and I was amazed that I remembered them. Those spells were some of the only ones I remembered from my years at Messana Academy. The darker magic that Lucian demanded of us had replaced everything else… But right now, all I wanted was to pull Avril back from the abyss she had slipped into.

Her eyelids fluttered, and in that moment, time stretched taut. I held my breath and watched her hazel eyes open slowly, and registered the confusion that swam within their depths. But then, recognition dawned—and with it, terror.

Her fear rippled through me, a dark current pulling at my insides—

“Avril,” I murmured, careful not to startle her further. I wanted her to know she was safe now, but the wildness in her gaze told me my presence was anything but comforting.

“Where… where am I?” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

“You’re back in your room. You’re safe,” I assured her. My fingers brushed against her arm, and I immediately felt the tension radiating from her. “You collapsed. What did you see?”

“Don’t,” she said sharply. She shrank back against her pillows and her body curling into itself like a wilting flower. The haunted look in her eyes was impossible to ignore, and I could see the shadows of whatever horrors she had seen dancing behind them.

“Please, just tell me what you saw,” I pressed, “let me help you.”

“Help?” A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her lips. “You can’t help me.”

She shivered and her gaze darted away, as if my presence burned her. But I knew she was looking at the grimoire.

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