Page 43 of Cursed

I was a prisoner.

I pulled a brush through my tangled hair and braided it swiftly before I wound it into a knot on top of my head and pinned it in place. My reflection was elegant and severe—accidentally so.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and I spun around in my chair.

My heart pounded in my chest as though trying to break free from its rib cage prison.

Grasping at any semblance of normality, I applied soft strokes of blush onto high points of my cheeks to counteract the paleness of my skin. As I set the brush down, I carefully avoided looking at the flecks of dried blood on the edge of the vanity that screamed for attention.

A second knock made me jump out of my chair. I took one last terrified look at myself in the mirror and tugged at my gloves.

I walked toward the door with as much courage as I could scrape together. The last time Lucian had summoned me, it had been to give me the grimoire— would this be the moment he chose to announce our wedding date? Or would it just be another test—

As I stepped out of my sanctuary and into the dimly lit corridor, each footfall echoed ominously as I followed the silent servant down the staircase and through the winding halls to the dining room. The air was thick with the scent of the storms that had shaken the estate over the last weeks, and it struck me again that I didn’t know how much time had passed since the grimoire had appeared in my room.

Even though I had left the grimoire behind—its whispers followed me.

Shadows danced along the walls, and every flicker of lamplight seemed to mock my discomfort.

Upon entering the dining room, the atmosphere enveloped me in its suffocating embrace.

The long table stretched out in front of me, adorned with ornate silverware that glinted ominously under the dull glow of flickering candles. The opulence of the setting felt grotesque—exquisite china and polished crystal, yet all of it was tainted by the darkness in the house. Heavy drapes framed the windows, blocking any hint of light from the outside world, sealing us within this tomb of luxury.

Lucian sat at the head of the table, but he rose as I entered the room. His pale skin caught the light in an unsettling manner and gave his appearance a strangely ethereal quality—but it didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as they raked over me.

“Ah, Avril,” he said as he approached me. His voice was smooth and chilling as he bowed slightly at the waist. The way he pronounced my name sent shivers rippling through me, and I could feel the pull of his magic—subtle, but unavoidably possessive. “You look lovely tonight.”

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Thank you,” I managed, as he extended his hand to me. I hesitated, but only for a moment, before I laid my gloved fingers in his hand.

As he led me to the table, the whispers in my mind grew louder.

“Avril?”

Shit.

Had he asked me a question?

“Fine, thank you,” I choked out.

Lucian’s chuckle was dark. “Not the response I expected—”

My cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I— I’m sorry—”

“This is no time to be distracted,” he admonished as a nearby servant pulled my chair away from the table. “But I will forgive you in this instance—”

I sank down into the chair and Lucian bent to press his lips against my knuckles.

His pale eyes held mine captive and his kiss sent an icy shiver up my arm. The cut on the side of my hand throbbed as he squeezed my fingers and then released his grip and walked back to his place at the head of the table.

Another servant poured the wine, and as the scent of the food reached my nostrils, I finally realized just how hungry I was.

I had to force myself to eat slowly, while my stomach screamed for me to push every morsel into my mouth as quickly as possible.

But Lucian was watching me—too closely.

With every clink of cutlery against porcelain, the weight of the darkness in the room pressed down on me and I had to pretend that I was enjoying myself.

“Avril,” he began. His voice was rich and soothing, but there was an unmistakable undertone of malice in it. “I must say how delightful it is to share this evening with you. It has been too long.”

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