Page 66 of The Cursed

It seemed only fitting that what they valued more than anything should become a part of her.

Instead of allowing the magic to curl back into me, returning to the home it had spent far too many centuries separate from, I let it crawl along the floor. All four witches knelt as it pulled free from their mouths, spilling upon the floor as they gagged. It slithered insidiously, the varying colors mixing into a mist that moved over the tile as it approached the dais.

Willow's brow furrowed as it swirled around her, entwining around her body and wrapping her in its embrace.

It touched the center of her chest, pressing at the line I had once drawn there to make her believe I would take her magic from her. Even though the wound had long-since healed, Willow's skin peeled away from the thin line to reveal a golden shimmering light within her where all her magic resided.

The mist disappeared into her slowly, a long ribbon of smoke that made her back arch until all of it returned to where I wanted it to go.

My home, and the home of all that mattered to me.

Willow's eyes flashed with light as her wound healed over itself, her eyes landing on mine as I smirked at her. I didn't give her time to question my decision, spinning and swiping out with a mass of night-tinted air. It split through the center of the circle, cutting off the heads of the four magicless witches kneeling and thinking their punishment had been delivered.

Even Willow gasped as their heads rolled to the floor, their bodies collapsing to the side. In the crowd of onlookers, somebody screamed in grief, making Willow clench her teeth.

Her nostrils flared in irritation, but she recovered quickly and spoke to the Coven. Keeping the peace, as any decent leader would do in a time of strife.

"His justice is met, and I expect that he will be just as swift to allow me to take our own vengeance should any of the Vessels or Demons wrong the witches in such a way," she exclaimed, the challenge for fairness playing out with the perfect audience.

She delivered her message to those loyal to me, announcing that she would come for them if they touched what she considered hers.

I grinned.

There was my favorite witchling.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Covenant," I said, dropping into a bow that would have been mocking if it were anyone other than Willow.

For her, I'd spend my life on my knees if she asked it of me.

CHAPTER 35

WILLOW

Imoved through the bedroom, Jonathan twirling around my feet. I groaned my frustration as he meowed at me, constantly getting in the way. It took every ounce of balance I had to keep me from landing flat on my face regularly.

My foot connected with him, but the cat showed no sign of irritation.

He didn't hiss the way he usually would have to show me his displeasure.

I furrowed my brow, staring down at the black cat for a moment before bending down to scratch his neck. My hand went through him, moving to the other side as everything within me tensed.

"I'm impressed," a male voice said, forcing me to stand quickly and spin to face him. He waited in the doorway, his form alone enough to fill the gap that would have led to the living room and office beyond it.

If his body hadn't been enough, the white, feathered wings that spread out behind him would have done it.

His face was so similar to Gray's that it hurt, hitting me like a punch to the gut. He was clean-cut, his hair appropriately trimmed, and his features kind. His lips tipped up into a smile that felt more false than any of the mocking ones Gray had given me during his deception.

I ambled toward him, swallowing as I realized who he must be.

"Michael," I said, my voice as apprehensive as I felt.

"Willow Hecate," he said, purposefully ignoring my married name.

"Willow Morningstar," I corrected him pointedly, raising my chin.

He chuckled, taking a step toward me. He moved until he was far too close for comfort, even in the realm of dreams where no normal being could touch me. I didn't know what magic he had, or if it was similar to his twin brother's, especially since Gray had managed to mark me in a dream once.

"Not in the eyes of God, you aren't," he said, his lips peeling back further. The teeth behind them were perfectly white and straight, unassuming and dull. Yet something about him made me wonder if he was even more ruthless than Gray, his righteousness a weapon to be wielded.

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