Page 113 of Cursed

With one swift motion, I plunged the knife into the side of the Elder’s neck. The old man’s spine arched as the blade bit deep, and my hand was slick with crimson as I twisted it for good measure.

Craster’s screams halted, and Bastian and Valen released the old man from their spells.

As their magic dissipated, the Elder’s body fell to the floor with a sickeningcrunch.

Blood pooled around the corpse and soaked into his muddied nightgown before it spilled into the cracks between the stones.

Bastian flinched as he stepped back, his expression filled with horror and disbelief, while Valen looked away. Their discomfort was obvious, but I felt nothing. This was necessary. This was how we maintained our grip on our world.

“Pathetic,” I muttered under my breath as Craster twitched and the light faded from his eyes. I bent to wipe the blade clean on his bony hip before sheathing it again.

As I straightened, I could feel the eyes of every soul in the chamber trained on me.

The echoes of Craster’s final moments lingered in my ears, but I couldn’t allow myself to dwell, not now—not when the pressure of our father’s expectations loomed over us.

I glanced at Bastian, who looked as if he might retch. Guilt was etched into the sharp angles of Valen’s features, but his jaw was tight.

“Old fools,” Lucian’s voice cut through the suffocating silence, sharp and commanding.

He stepped forward, his pale skin gleamed grotesquely under the dim flicker of torchlight. Craster’s blood stained the stones—failure.

“You see what betrayal breeds,” Lucian continued, and eyes glinted like shards of glass. “This is the fate reserved for traitors—death, disgrace, obliteration.” With each word, my heart drummed an erratic rhythm against my ribcage.

The echo of Lucian’s speech faded into the background as my thoughts spiraled into a dark abyss. The echoes of Craster’s pleading voice haunted me, yet all I could think about was the taste of iron still lingering in my mouth.

What was happening? How had we failed?

But we hadn’t failed. The corpse at my father’s feet proved that.

No matter how it had happened, the old man was dead, and the Council’s justice had been carried out.

No, not the Council’s.

It was Lucian’s justice.

I looked at my father as he continued to lecture the members of the Black Council. His cruel smile was devoid of warmth as he addressed them. “I should not need to remind you that the ranks of the Necromi do not tolerate weakness.”

A murmur of agreement accompanied his words, and my focus narrowed as I scanned the ranks for anyone who looked uncomfortable.

Cowards would always struggle to conceal their guilt.

But they all looked nervous—and frightened.

That was what Lucian wanted.

Ruling with fear was his way.

“Remember this day, my friends,” Lucian concluded, and his voice echoed ominously against the stone walls, “for it marks the end of mercy— The end of complacency. We have lingered in the shadows for far too long. It is time that we press our advantage and take control of Messana.”

The resonating echo of his proclamation hung in the air of the ancient crypt as shadows danced ominously around us. I tore my gaze from my father to look at my brothers. Valen merely met my gaze, but his expression was blank. And Bastian, spending no energy on concealing his discomfort, opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish.

Whispers and murmurs suddenly filled the room. I heard my father’s name, uttered in hushed tones of respect and fear. The members of the Council exchanged nervous but approving nods. It was clear they saw Lucian’s words not only as a commandment, but also as a prophecy.

“Traitors shall remember this day.” Lucian’s voice sliced through the whispers like a sword. “And those loyal will never forget.”

Applause began, gently at first, but it swelled and filled the room.

Lucian turned back to us then, and his eyes glinted maliciously beneath the vault’s flickering torchlight. “Clean this up,” he ordered tersely before he walked past the corpse without looking at it and joined the Council on the dais once more.

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