Page 129 of Cursed

The harsh command hit me like a tidal wave. Paralyzed, my eyes darted between the three brothers, who suddenly seemed more like captors than allies.

“I didn’t...” My protest fell on deaf ears as Titus advanced on me, an almost animalistic gleam in his dark eyes.

“Leave,” he reiterated. His voice was a rough growl that vibrated through the oppressively silent room.

I instinctively recoiled from him, yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him—there was a frigid intensity there that sent shivers down my spine. His face was full of unabashed dominance and power.

I forced myself to push past my fear and dragged my eyes away from him. I scrambled to grab hold of the grimoire and clutched it tightly against my chest. Its whispers seemed louder in my ears now, mocking me with hollow promises of unattainable freedom. It had been a mistake to believe that I held any control over this dark relic or the twisted spells within its pages.

I grabbed the knife and held it in my blood-slicked hand. Brandishing it in front of me to keep them away.

“Stay back,” I warned.

Bastian’s smile sharpened as he noticed the tremor in my hand.

As I stumbled backward toward the door, panicked breaths tore from my throat. Valen’s troubled gaze met mine as he advanced on me.

“Avril— Wait— we can talk about this.”

He moved closer, and I slashed wildly with the dagger. Valen let out a hiss of pain as the blade bit into his forearm and Bastian laughed.

“Careful,” he taunted. “Little snake has teeth.”

The door opened and, without thinking, I turned and ran down the long stone corridor. Tears blurred my vision and choked my breaths as I ran headlong for the stairs that would lead me back to the upper floors of the mansion.

I didn’t know the way—I skidded to a stop in the middle of a stone hallway that looked the same as the others.

Where— where do I go?

The weight of the grimoire shifted in my arms.

Had I just imagined it?

The grimoire shifted again—to the left.

I sucked in a breath and tightened my grip on the book. “Lead me back to my room,” I choked out. “Please— Get me away from them.”

One unsteady step led to two, and every corner and hallway looked the same. Every wet and mossy stone looked the same. But I followed the grimoire’s subtle pressures until I emerged from a crevice in the stone wall on the main floor of the house.

I could have sobbed with relief.

But there was nothing to be relieved about.

I was alive.

The grimoire answered to me.

But for how long?

Without Titus, Valen, and Bastian’s help—I was lost.

I stumbled down the hallway toward the foyer and up the grand staircase to my room.

I was safe behind these sigils—but if I wasn’t ready, nothing would be able to protect me from Lucian’s rage.

I layon my bed and stared up at the dark damask canopy stretched above it.

The grimoire’s whispers were quieter now, but still unavoidably sharp as their claws pierced through the veil of my thoughts and sought to take control once more.

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