Page 182 of Castings & Curses

“You risk too much, Sage,” he warned, his voice softer now as he stood to face me. “Too much. The curse aside, the feud between his kind and ours cannot be overcome. We are beings of light and life. A vampire can offer you only one thing: death. How can you reconcile yourself to being with a creature that must murder humans to survive?”

I quickly shook my head. “He doesn’t do that now. He drinks from animals.”

“You understand that will only weaken him? Eventually, his unholy appetite will master him, and he will feed from the innocent once more.” Grandfather’s wise and serious eyes bore into mine. “You’ve devoted your studies, your life, to healing. You might cure a child’s fever in the morning only to have your lover kill that same child in the night.”

A chill shivered over my shoulders and down my spine. “Cristian would never harm a child.”

His lips quirked. “An adult, then? A mother or father, a friend, a person who has dreams and hopes of their own? Whom will you allow to be his next meal?”

I held out the rolled parchment that held my scribbled notes. “We have been working together to find a way to reverse this curse so that we may be together.”

He gave a short, harsh laugh, his bushy eyebrows rising. “You’re a strong witch, Sage, but even for the most powerful among us, that would be impossible.” He sighed, a long-drawn-out sound that spoke volumes of his disappointment, and he rubbed his forehead wearily. “I warned you before. If you continue this path, you do so alone. Without your coven, without your family.”

I lifted my chin, hardening myself against the guilt I felt for defying him. “You could help. With the combined knowledge of you and the other coven members, together we could find a—”

He cut me off with a slice of his hand through the air. “Need I remind you that you’re already promised to another? Have you forgotten about Cezar? He is a strong witch. Together, through your children, you will carry on our bloodlines.”

“Is that all you care about, Grandfather? Bloodlines? What of love?”

“For witches, our love and compassion is meant for those we heal and guide.” He shook his head. “Our duty is to the coven first and foremost, not to our own selfish hearts.”

“I don’t believe that. I can’t!” But seeing that he would not be swayed, I turned on my heel and left the house, leaving behind my family, my coven, and my past.

As I journeyed back through the village, my heart was as heavy as the setting sun. I looked around at the charming cottages, their whitewashed walls glowing softly in the dusk, the scents of cooking stews and the sound of laughter and muted conversations rising to me as families gathered for the evening meal, and felt a deep pang of longing and regret. This was my home, the only world I’d ever known. Could I truly walk away from all this?

The journey to Ravenscroft was a blur, my mind whirling with thoughts and fears. I knew I couldn’t let them consume me. I had to stay strong, for both of us.

Cristian’s face was a mask of concern when he saw me. “Sage,” he breathed, “it’s not safe for you to be here.”

I nearly fell into his arms. “I’ve spoken to my grandfather,” I said, without preamble. “He told me again to abandon you. To return to our traditions. Including the feud between our kind.”

Cristian’s brows furrowed, his expression darkening. “And?”

I hung my head, steadying myself. “He said if I choose you, I choose to stand alone. Without my family. Without my coven.”

Cristian reached out, his fingers gently tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to do this. Not for me.”

But I pulled away from his touch. “No. Not for you. For us.”

He wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as though he could shield me from the world. “The vampire council exiled me as well. No matter. We’ll find our own way,” he whispered into my hair.

I drew back. “There has to be a way to lift the curse, but I don’t know where else to look. It seems like we’ve been through every book ever written.”

He offered me a crooked smile. “There’s still the castle repository. It’s full of old texts. We could look there if you don’t mind the cobwebs and dust.”

My mood brightened a bit. “Cobwebs and dust don’t bother me at all.”

CHAPTER18

Cristian

The castle repositorywas a maze of high shelves, each filled with antiquated scrolls and weathered leather-bound books. Cristian’s father had been well traveled and had collected many tomes and parchments containing tales of otherworldly powers throughout the years. Likely, this was from whence his affection for witches had arisen. Our plan was to explore every dusty corner and forgotten shelf in search of a solution. We were not just hopeful, but desperate.

We began to pore over manuscripts and texts, some so ancient they nearly crumbled under our touch. Our fingers grew stained with dust and old ink, our eyes weary from scanning line after line of archaic scripts and symbols.

It was past midnight when Sage, her brow furrowed in concentration, reached for a thick tome from a top shelf. It was bound in faded leather, its pages yellowed with age. Its title was inscribed in an ancient dialect, a blend of witch and vampire languages that few could decipher. But Sage, with her extensive knowledge of magical languages, slowly traced the letters.

“The Confluence of Dark and Light,” she read aloud, her voice clear and strong in the silent library. “This could be something, Cristian.”

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