Page 123 of Cursed

“Why should I trust you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t… But I can help you. You won’t be able to unlock the grimoire’s secrets on your own. I only showed you how to open the door—”

“I don’t need your help,” I countered. “The grimoire is a challenge— but I have to navigate it on my own. Isn’t that the point? I’m supposed to… rise to meet it? Or something?”

Bastian chuckled. “Rise or drown,” he said.

“Is that a threat?” I shot back, trying to swallow down the surge of fear his words ignited in me.

“No, it’s a promise.” His smirk faded, and for the first time since I had arrived at Withermarsh, I saw a hint of sincerity in Bastian’s pale eyes. “A challenge, like you said... But you don’t need to face it alone.”

I stared back at him, and my mind raced as I weighed the risks involved in accepting his offer. He had been hard to overpower, and it had taken so much effort to contain and restrain him while the spell took hold—

Could I do it again? I couldn’t suppress the shiver that passed through me.

I needed all three of them on my side.

His pale eyes flashed with what seemed like genuine concern, and I drew a shallow breath. His help was tempting, but if I took it, I risked putting myself back in his control. Despite my stolen magic, I was still walking on thin ice.

“I’ll think about it,” I said tersely.

He held the gaze a moment longer before nodding solemnly. “I’ll be waiting,” he said.

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.

As I watched him go, my mind clouded with doubt and uncertainty.

Even though all three of them had agreed to help me with the grimoire, I wondered what they sought in return.

Unsteady now, I made my way through the house and back up the grand staircase to the safety of my bedroom.

As the door creaked shut behind me, a suffocating silence swallowed the sound of the latch as it clicked into place—had it always been so quiet in here? It was as though the sigils I’d laid on the doorway kept everything out...

Good.

I stepped toward my vanity, where the Bloodstone Grimoire lay open upon its surface—a ravenous beast begging to be tamed. My heart thrummed against my ribcage as I approached it, drawn into its magnetic pull.

With a flick of my fingers, the candles ignited. I allowed myself a smile as they sparked and flickered—I’d never been able to do that before. I had been denied such a simple thing.

But as quickly as they flared to life, the warmth of the candlelight seemed to be absorbed by the ancient parchment.

I traced my fingertips along the faded sigils and smiled as their texture became rough and alive beneath my touch. Whispers flickered from the pages, ghostly tendrils curling around my mind.

Whatever knowledge I had dragged from these ancient pages—I knew there was more hidden deep within it.

I hated to admit that my stepbrothers were right—but there was more I could learn. More power to unlock.

What if different information was provided to each sorcerer who touched these pages? Or did the grimoire only reveal what it wanted… What the sorcerer needed most? I’d needed the resurrection spell—and the magical hemorrhage…

Had the grimoire guided my hand and led me down this path—a path I couldn’t turn from now.

The book I’d been reading in the library had suggested as much—but there was no way to know if it was true.

I saw different things in the grimoire after absorbing my stepbrothers’ magic than I had seen with my own power—but what else was hidden from me?

What had my mother unlocked?

And my father? What had he seen that had led him to betray Lucian?

---