Page 99 of Cursed

“I don’t know,” Valen said. “There’s something… different—”

I rubbed a hand along my jaw. “You already said that.”

“I’m serious,” Valen protested. “When I saw her in the garden, there was something… different abouther. Something darker. More chaotic.”

“Enough with the details, Valen,” Bastian cut in, his eyes glinting with an unfamiliar intensity. “This sounds more like one of your fantasies than reality. Did you show her your magic vines?”

Bastian’s mockery was pointed, and Valen’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve felt it too,” Valen shot back. He leaned forward to glare at our younger brother. “Don’t pretend you haven’t.”

I could almost taste the bitterness in the air as my two brothers locked gazes, and I wondered again why I was in this room, listening to their pathetic conjectures about our little witch.

“I couldn’t get into her dreams,” Valen repeated, and his gaze shifted toward me. “I’d say that sounds like reality.”

“So she’s learned a few protective spells from the grimoire,” I said dismissively, and then pointed at Bastian. “You shouldn’t have shown her how to open it.”

“Poor Titus, in denial,” Bastian crooned, as he kicked one foot lazily in the air. His smile was irritatingly smug. “It’s clear our sweet little bird isn’t as innocent as you think.”

My jaw tightened. “Enough.” The single word echoed around the room and they both fell silent.

In the silence that followed, something twisted inside me—an unfamiliar sensation that made me glance between my brothers suspiciously. The thought of Avril delving into the dark magic contained within the grimoire was unsettling—not because of the danger it posed to her, but for a different reason entirely.

If shehadused the grimoire... I wasn’t sure how that made me feel.

“Should we talk to her?” Valen asked.

“About what?” Bastian asked. “I offered to help her—”

“So did I,” Valen cut in.

“So did I,” I said.

Valen and Bastian looked at me in surprise. “You did?” Bastian laughed. “We really are fucked.”

“Did she come to you?” I snapped.

Valen nodded, but his eyes were clouded. “At least— I think she did. She was wearing a black velvet dress with stars—”

“What happened?” Bastian pressed, as he leaned forward eagerly.

“I— I don’t remember. She came to the garage, and then… I don’t remember.”

Bastian let out a derisive noise. “Another one of your dreams— maybe a vision. You’ve been spending too much time with your poisonous flowers. They’re starting to fuck with your mind.”

Valen glared back at him, but didn’t respond.

But something about what he’d said tugged at one of my own memories. “She came to the library,” I said. “She wanted to talk about something— but I sent her away.”

Or had I?

The memory was shrouded in mist and shadow—and I couldn’t pick out anything else about that night.

I’d been in the library, and she had come to see me, to ask for my help— Or had I imagined it?

“Bad memories seem to be catching,” Bastian quipped.

“Are you saying we’re lying?” Valen growled.

---