Page 84 of Cursed

My thoughts raced, and the volume and intensity of the whispers increased as I absorbed Titus’ power.

What had I done?

This was more than a betrayal.

How far would Lucian’s wrath stretch if my actions were discovered?

I hurried toward the foyer and the grand staircase that would take me back to the sanctuary of my bedroom. But something was wrong—the house was too quiet. I glanced out the window and looked toward the garage.

When I’d come downstairs in search of Titus, the light was on, and Bastian’s motorcycle was missing.

But it was back.

Shit.

Was he in the house?

“Avril—”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to turn.

What if he found Titus?

What then?

“Bastian— What are you doing here?”

His smirk was infuriating, and the shadows that filled the foyer sharpened his angelic features into something strange and otherworldly.

Threatening.

Predatory.

“A strange question for someone who lives in this house,” he replied.

“You know what I mean,” I snapped. “It’s late— What are you doing sneaking around?”

He laughed, and I flinched at the way it echoed off the high ceiling. “Sneaking? You’re the one who’s sneaking, sister.”

“I am not,” I said defensively.

He moved closer, and I straightened my shoulders. His pale eyes swept over me and lingered on the low neckline of the blood-red dress I’d chosen to catch Titus’ eye. “I shouldn’t complain,” he said. “You look delicious when you sneak.”

“I’m not sneaking—” The magic I’d stolen from Titus reared up in me like a viper and made me bold. I could complete my task all in one night. “I was looking for you,” I finished.

His eyebrow rose. “For me?”

“I heard you and Valen leaving— but I didn’t know when you’d be back.” I gestured vaguely at the window. “That’s why I was checking for your bike—”

“Why did you want to find me?” His tone was suspicious, but his icy pale eyes were hungry and I knew he was thinking about the way he’d made me cum in the shower without even touching me...

“I was hoping you could help me with something.”

A wicked smile replaced the smirk on his full lips. “Oh?” He regarded me carefully. “Have you changed your mind about the grimoire?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s a dangerous book,” he said. “You have to be sure—”

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