“Oh shit,” I murmur, my heart racing, my stomach in my throat. This can’t end well.
Obviously. I already know it doesn’t end well, but I’m still afraid.
They fight. They try. But Briar and Tristan are outnumbered, surrounded by dozens of witches. The council gets their hands back on Briar, her thrashing body barely contained by men twice her size. Magic whips through the air, sucking the air from Tristan’s lungs until he falls to his knees.
One of the council members backhands Tristan, the man’s ring leaving a cut on his temple. Blood trickles down the side of his face, and he sways back and forth. Tristan ignores the man and lifts his head to stare at Briar. There’s so much love and adoration in his gaze that I feel like I’m intruding on their moment.
The senior Ashenvale pulls out a knife. Thunder rumbles and lightning streaks across the sky while the snow keeps falling. Ashenvale breaths are choppy as he grabs a handful of Tristan’shair and yanks his head back. With no remorse, the asshole slits Tristan’s throat while Briar watches. She screams, tears running down her cheeks.
I think I might be screaming with her.
Briar sinks to her knees in front of Tristan’s lifeless body, snow swirling around them until it’s almost impossible to see through the vortex. There’s a sharp movement and then shouting. Briar is standing on the side of the bridge holding the knife held to her neck. The same weapon that killed her love.
Briar’s father steps forward. “Don’t be daft. Come here and finish this marriage.”
“With the blood of the man I love soaking my feet?” Briar laughs, the wind carrying it out over the frozen river beneath the bridge. She presses the knife into her neck until a trickle of blood appears, and her father halts.
“This is foolishness, Briar. Are you really going to kill yourself? Do you think that will be a punishment for us?” the coven leader says, and Percival holds out his hand, gesturing for her to come to him with two fingers.
Briar stares at the gathered group, her chest heaving. Her dark hair has fallen from her bun and is soaked from the snow. Her eyes glow with vengeance as the wind whips her skirts and lightning illuminates the sky.
“You’re right. What kind of punishment would that be for all of you?” She tips her chin up, the defiance pouring from her.
Part of me wants to slam my fist into the air and say,hell yeah, fuck all those bastards. The other part of me knows what’s coming next and that Briar has hurt so many people.
“I curse you, witches of Mystic Hollows. Every family that values power over love will feel the fiery sting of my pain. All of you that have forsaken the Triad and forgotten the true nature of your magic, you will be punished. Your first-born child will have to live with a horrible curse because of your actions here today.Until you learn what is truly important in this world, this curse will plague you from one generation to the next.”
“Foolish girl.” Briar’s father reaches for her, but he’s too slow.
Briar slashes the knife across her neck, her words garbled by the injury. “Sealed in blood, consecrated in death. You have sewn your own fate.”
The night is silent as Briar falls backward off the bridge. Snow swirls around the shocked witches, and magic crackles in the air. The curse settles over Mystic Hollows like a heavy cloak. There’s a moment of shock, freezing everyone in place. Then, as if they get jolted with electricity, they run to the railing, shouting and shrieking, and look over the edge of the bridge. I race with them, only to find a hole in the ice and Briar’s body lost to the dark depths of the river.
38
ROMAN
“Alittle warning before you fuck with reality next time, Ambrose.” Stellan burps and swallows thickly. He looks a little green.
The rest of the group is slowly shaking away the vision. Everyone but Bram and Stellan have tear tracks on their faces. Ambrose’s illusions are too fucking strong. I felt the love Tristan and Briar shared. I felt the pain of their loss. It was shattering. I wrap an arm around Josephine’s shoulders and drag her into my side. She buries her face in my chest, and I breathe her in.
Fuck, I’m lucky to have her. My thoughts stop me up short. I’ve never considered myself lucky. I have a curse that keeps me from feeling the most basic of human needs. And yet, I do feel fortunate. So incredibly lucky. What if I didn’t have my curse and I never saw Josephine for who she really is? I could have missed knowing her, being with her, if not for my damn curse. Maybe this all started because Josephine was the one chink in the armor of that curse, but so much has changed since then.
“That was fucking depressing.” Bram’s nostrils flare as he glares down at the book in front of him.
“It’s not the end, though.” Piper points to her grimoire. It’s open to a page near the end of the book.
“What other delights are waiting for us?” Ambrose sinks down into a chair, looking tired after using so much power on a mass illusion.
“It’s a cure.” Piper looks around the room before she drops her eyes back to the book.
“What?”
“A cure?”
“Kind of. I mean, there are ways.” She hunches over, her arms wrapping around her stomach.
“By giving birth to the next generation, who will take over the curse someday?” Odie signs. I share her words with the rest of the room.