Page 135 of Cursed

I rubbed my sleeve roughly against my lips to wipe away the remnants of his kiss, and then wrapped my arms around my torso as I walked slowly back to my room.

The mansion was eerie in its stillness, almost as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something dreadful to happen.

But something dreadfulhadhappened. The stain of Lucian’s magic on my skin, the press of his lips against mine, his threats—

I wondered briefly where Lucian’s sons were—if they would have defended me. Or helped me.

But why would they?

For all I knew, they had been the ones to inform Lucian of what I’d been doing…

But then he would have known what I wanted with the grimoire.

The grimoire’s whispers vibrated with satisfaction as I climbed the stairs.

Had its magic protected me from Lucian?

As I entered the room and closed the door behind me, the grimoire called out from its hiding place under my bed.

An insidious and echoing whisper that made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Lucian’s mention of my father had awakened my curiosity once more—

What forbidden knowledge had drawn my father into ruin?

“There is still something within you, Avril… Something none of them can touch. And it will be mine.”

Lucian’s cold words burned in my mind.What was he talking about?

How much of myself would I lose in my search for what I wanted?

But more importantly—

How much was I willing to give up?

Gasoline and grease.

Thorns and vines.

That was what I understood.

Whatever the fuck was going on in my own house—it’s not your house—I didn’t understand that.

I didn’t understand what was happening to Avril.

Or what was happening to me, or my brothers.

My senses were clouded, focused on the machine under my hands and the solid concrete beneath my knees.

The engine glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights—I understood these things. They made sense.

I tightened the last bolt, but my fingers trembled, an unwelcome reminder of the chill that had settled deep within my bones since that encounter with the Craster’s shade. A gnawing weakness lurked beneath my skin, like a parasite feeding off my magic—but why? Why was I feeling like this?

I shook my head and sat back on my heels.

“Valen.”

The voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, sharp and clipped.