Page 48 of Curses and Cauldrons

Roman takes a long drag of his beer. He looks younger tonight in his casual clothing. He’s always so buttoned up and professional in his suits. It’s intimidating. His legs are stretched out in front of him on the blanket, and he’s propping himselfup with his free hand. His eyes have barely left me since he sat down. He doesn’t look away now as he answers.

“I was sixteen when the curse started.”

I nod. That was the same for all my friends. None of our parents have ever shared much in the way of information about the curses with us. The most any of them told us were tales of the Briar Witch and it turns out those are pretty suspect. If Fitz is to be believed. And I think she is.

“I knew it was coming, at least. Bram thought because he was technically second born, he wouldn’t get hit. Fucking bad luck, I guess.”

“You have the same dad?” I ask. They have the same last name, so it’s an assumption on my part. I can’t imagine Vincent Blackthorn adopting a son out of the goodness of his heart. The rumors of his cutthroat nature might be just that, but there doesn’t appear to be any love lost between Roman and his dad, so they can’t be that far off base.

“Same dad, different mothers. Bram’s only six months younger than me. You can imagine how well that went over in our house when my mother found out.”

I cringe. I’m sure nothing in that situation was pleasant. My heart pangs for Bram. He was innocent of that mess. It couldn’t have been fun or easy.

“His mother comes from another powerful magical family, so lucky him, he got his very own curse.” Roman tips his head to look up at the sky, but I watch him. Drawn to his chiseled cheekbones, brooding jaw, and aquiline nose.

“My curse crept up on me, little by little. I used to test myself.” His brows furrow, and he shifts his weight to free his hand. He pushes back the sleeve of his jacket to show me the inside of his forearm. Burns mar the skin from his wrist to his elbow. “I’d hold it over a candle or press it against the stove, desperate to feel something. Eventually, I stopped trying.”

I run a finger over the burns, and Roman shivers, his eyes blazing with emotion.

“Do you want to heal them?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Do you want me to?” I lay my palm flat, curling my fingers around his arm. I can remove the marks if he asks.

“They’re not pretty.”

I look up to find Roman searching my face. “Honestly, you’re a little too perfect already.” Roman arches one brow, and I chuckle. “I think they’re important.”

“How so?” He relaxes his arm, his hand falling into my lap.

I don’t have scars like this on my body. But I understand how it feels to despise a part of yourself. My wounds reside inside me. “They’re part of you. A tapestry of your life. I think it’s a reminder that you fought to hold on to a piece of yourself. We can’t control the battles we face. You can do everything right and still lose. That doesn’t mean you give up.” I laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know when I turned into a guru. Feel free to ignore me. I’m not so good at taking my own advice.”

“Did you give up?” Roman’s voice is rough.

I don’t even know what he’s asking me. Give up fighting against my curse? Give up fighting against my mother? I don’t know that I ever started. I simply let her control me without question. I let the curse become my identity and never stopped to ask if that’s all I was.

“Yeah. I did. But I think…I don’t want to do that any longer.”

24

ROMAN

Ihave been bewitched. It doesn’t matter that there’s no magic involved, no potions to make me fall for Josephine. It’s happening because of who she is. Her sweet nature hides a fire underneath. There’s an apprehensive confidence that’s been growing steadily. She’s had her own trials, but they haven’t crushed her spirit. A month ago, I don’t know that I could have said the same for myself. After meeting Josephine, I’m optimistic for the first time in my memory that there’s more to life than the wheel I’ve been spinning on endlessly.

A shooting star arcs across the sky. Then another.

“Look.” I nudge my chin toward the sky, and Josephine’s head tips back. Her lips part at the sight, and it takes everything in me not to drag her into my lap and kiss her again. I’ve been hard since I had her pressed against the car. Being this close to her, having my hand in her lap, isn’t helping a damn thing.

“Wow, there must be a meteor shower tonight,” she says, setting her cup aside and moving the food so that she can lie down. I grab the extra blanket and shake it out, settling it over the both of us before I lay on my back beside her. I should bemarveling at the show in the sky, but I close my eyes instead, relishing the heat from her body, the press of her hip to mine. Her hand falls to the blanket, brushing against mine. I thread our fingers together and just savor the feel of her.

“You’re missing it,” Josephine scolds, but there’s laughter in her voice. I open my eyes and take in the sight of her. Bundled up under the blanket, her hat pulled down low. How can she look so sweet and be so sexy at the same time?

“I’m soaking in every second.” My voice is rough with need. Josephine inhales sharply and turns her head to look at me. Whatever she sees has her pulling her hand away. I’m about to protest, but she presses up on her elbow and peers down at me.

She swallows thickly and clears her throat. “I’ve only had sex with one guy. Once. My curse had already set in, but it wasn’t like it is now. Still, it wasn’t great. But I do have access to the internet, so I might have some moves. I’ve just never used them on another person.” She drops onto her back and covers her face.

My chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Jo smacks my side. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

“Are you saying you’ve watched porn?”

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