Page 82 of Curses and Cauldrons

Ambrose and Stellan file into the room a second later. Ambrose’s eyebrows shoot up when he sees Anastasia. “Should we leave?”

Stellan follows his gaze, and a snarl tears from his lips. “If you fucked that piece of shit, I will pluck your eyeballs out so Josephine never has to look you in the eyes again.” Stellan lunges for me. Bram and Ambrose grab him and hold him back, but he’s a big fucker.

“This was not consensual,” I snap. Ava’s wandering around the room like she can’t see the chaos behind her. She picks up the potion on the nightstand and sniffs. “What is this?”

“She attempted to use it so she could fuck me.”

Everyone turns to stare at Anastasia. Ava gets the closest, an absolute look of disgust on her face. “You tried to rape him?”

“A woman can’t rape a man,” Anastasia spits out, so fucking superior.

Ava’s fist slams into Anastasia’s already bloody nose. She leans down so they’re face to face. “You’re what’s wrong with this world.”

I untie the ropes at my ankles and fix my clothes, immensely entertained as Ava puts the witch in her place. Dropping a hand to her shoulder, I squeeze and murmur a soft thank you. Ava steps aside, her arms crossed like she’s just waiting for Anastasiato make another move. She might wear the frumpiest clothing I’ve ever seen and look frazzled half the time, but it’s easy to see why she and Josephine are such good friends.

Anastasia’s moaning, cupping her hands around her nose. I stand in front of her, letting my disgust show on my face. “You deserve more, but I’m not as vile as you are.”

My magic pulls at her soul again, but this time, it’s to take control of her body at the cellular level. I twist my hand, dragging forth a word that spans across her chest.

Predator.

It looks like a scar that never healed properly. It’s red and raised and will never fade.

Anastasia looks down and screams. “What have you done?” She scratches at the scar, leaving welts on her skin and making it bleed.

“I’ve let the world know what kind of witch you are. Have fun explaining that.” I turn and walk away, needing to get out of this room. Away from this fucking house.

“Is Josephine still at the chateau?” I’m desperate for one of them to tell me yes, but I already know deep down that she isn’t. The ache in my chest, the fear fogging my head, it’s all because of her.

The two vines circling my finger send a jolt of magic up my hand, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to find her.

44

JOSEPHINE

“Josephine Delvaux, on behalf of the council, and the Delvaux family, I find you guilty of crimes against this coven. Your punishment will be to carry your curse for this family forever.”

“What?” What is that supposed to mean? I know that when the next generation is born, the curse passes from parent to child. It’s not like I’m planning on having kids soon, or possibly ever, so what does she mean?

My mother smiles, smoothing a hand over her sleek dark hair. “I know you would never willingly pass along your curse to any child. But that’s not your decision to make.”

“Why? Why do you care?” Her curse, my father's, is already gone. They lost their curses the moment I was born. Why do they care if I have children and pass along this horrible burden to someone else? Or if I choose to keep it and let the curse die with me? It’s not like it impacts them in any way.

I take a step backward, but Camille is there. I shake her off, but my father grabs my arms. The blood rushes out of my head. Camille rips my coat off. I squeak, startled by the rough gesture.Did I really forget that they told me to strip? Her hands land on the hem of my shirt, but I slap her away.

“I’ll do it,” I snap, although I’m not actually sure what they’re planning. I thought they were going to punish me like they have in the past, by laying hands on me and dragging out the pain until I pass out. That’s not what this feels like. Besides, the pain is gone.

Roman must be the reason I’m not feeling pain. The Briar Witch talked about a cure, about how true love could break the curse. I peer down at the vines on my finger and the magic in my chest flares higher.

Penelope is screaming from behind the invisible barrier. Her hands locked against the wall as though cuffed. How the hell am I going to get the two of us out of here?

“Camille, go,” my mother barks and my sister hurries around the room, lighting candles set up in a circle around us. None of my family has any fire magic, so it has to be done the old-fashioned way. I watch, wondering if I could take my father out. If he was knocked out, then the magic holding Pen back would be broken. I don’t know if the two of us could physically best our mother and Camille, especially with Francesca’s ice magic, but I can’t think of a better plan.

“Hurry up,” my mother snaps at Camille, her eyes never leaving me. She clucks her tongue and reaches out her hand to smooth back my hair. It’s just an excuse to graze her palm across my face. “If the next generation weren’t so weak and disappointing, we wouldn’t have to be so demanding.”

She turns toward my sister. “Camille, it’s time for you to step into your role as the leader of the next generation of the Delvaux family.”

Camille practically buzzes with excitement. “Yes, Mother.”

---