Page 90 of Cursed

“I sever your flame. I claim your light.”

The blade pressed against his ribs and the voices in my mind howled in victory as his blood welled up against it.

“Through blood and bone, your gift is mine,” I said as I looked up into his eyes. “I drink your power…” I paused and gritted my teeth, focusing on the spell and not on the burning stretch of his cock in my ass.

“…one drop at a time.”

I pressed my palm against the wound and cried out as heat lanced through me. My back arched and my body shuddered, and Bastian groaned as I squeezed his cock in a hundred different ways.

The moment the magic surged through me, it was as if I had taken a breath after drowning. Bastian’s eyes widened in disbelief as my thighs tightened around his hips and anchored him in place.

“Avril—” he gasped, but his voice broke off into a choked whisper as the dark pleasure of the spell enveloped him.

I slid my other hand between my legs and rubbed my clit with purposeful strokes. My pussy was so empty—my ass full of his cock—it was too much to bear. I pushed two fingers into my pussy and my orgasm crashed over my senses and I cried out as my body convulsed around Bastian’s cock and my slick flesh clutched at my fingers.

Bastian’s answering groan filled my ears as his cock twitched deep inside my ass and the hot spurts of his cum filled me.

“Yes—” I moaned as I pulled my hand away from the wound on his ribs and fell back onto the bed.

“Bound now to me, this strength remains,” I gasped. “Yours no longer, the magic wanes.”

Mine. It was mine.

Bastian’s eyes rolled back, and he fell forward onto me and pinned me to the mattress.

A triumphant giggle clawed at my throat.

I’d done it.

I’d really done it.

My body thrummed with the aftermath of my release, and with the new magic that rippled through my veins.

But I couldn’t lie here forever…

I disentangled myself from Bastian, slid off the bed, and rushed to the bathroom.

There was no way to know how long he would remain unconscious.

I’d abandoned Titus and Valen to the thrall of the spell, so I didn’t know how long its effects would last, but Bastian was different. He was stronger than his brothers—darker. I had to hurry.

I showered the traces of our encounter from my body and grimaced at the lingering pain that Bastian had inflicted on me with his belt.

He’d pay for that.

I smiled.Maybe he already had.

As I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, I realized that there was something different—the whispers of the grimoire were… smaller. Quieter. Not gone… not entirely… but they were hushed. Sated.

For now.

I dropped my towel onto the floor and walked back into the bedroom.

Bastian lay on the bed where I’d left him. The angelic lines of his face, usually so captivating, had twisted under the weight of my spell, and the room’s shadows spread across his skin like ink spilling on parchment. It was beautiful and grotesque, and I was the architect of it all.

I had to get him out of the room.

I grabbed my robe from the floor and swept it over my shoulders before I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him.

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