Page 73 of The Cursed and the Broken
I chose to sleep in Dante’s bed again that night—but I loved that he’d given me the choice to stay or sleep in the guest suite. It struck me how different things were here. No one looked at me strangely for being alone with my intended. I didn’t need a chaperone, didn’t have someone watching my every move. It was nice to not feel judged or indifferent.
The witches here smiled freely and táltosok were polite. I had seen families walking the streets together today and my heart had soared to see such a simple, precious thing. So very different from my home and so muchbetter.
My thoughts turned to the future. Of all the things I could do with my title—with the táltos at my side. I was playing a dangerous game, flirting with Dante, sharing small secrets, learning the man beneath the mask.
It was dangerous tohope.
Dante was with his father and András tonight, planning all things military and preparing for the days to come. I’d decided not to attend, giving myself some time alone to adjust to my new environment, and truthfully, Dante seemed like he needed some space. After hearing the message from that creepy bull-headed man, there’d been an undercurrent of tension running through him. He did well to hide it, but I knew he worried for Mistvellen. For me.
While I still refused to entertain the notion of falling for him—that our relationship could remain strictly sexual—there was no denying the crackling embers of something unfamiliar. A new feeling beginning to bloom. It was something I couldn’t think about, didn’t have time to nourish. I couldn’t water that seed,not yet.
The táltosok could tend to the castle’s defences and armies tonight. I had my own scheming to do, away from Dante’s distracting dimples or the warmth of his embrace.
Bigger games were afoot and I planned to have a winning hand. Fate demanded sacrifice, but the more I came to explore this new world, the more I realised how much I wanted to fight for it. Tolivein it, when the dust had settled.
Mistvellen was magical. A place I could belong, trulybelong,and live a happy life. No longer as a pariah or the town oddity, but a woman welcomed with open arms, whose magic was a gift, not a curse.
I was no longer that broken girl. I was a witch, powerful and strong and ready to burn every cultist to cinders if it meant saving my family. But first I had to imperil them even further by bringing her back.
My stomach twisted. Damn Fate. Damn Death and every supernatural fucking entity who would use me like a pawn. I amnota pawn. I would be a queen and I would conquer.
Dante had mentioned a library with grimoires and history books, so I’d start there. I’ll comb through every tome and find a way to survive what’s coming. A grim smile graced my face. When Sylvie rose, I would be ready.
Plotting her demise put me in a rather good mood. I smiled to myself as I sat on the bed, removing the pins from my hair and brushing my locks. A stunning porcelain hand mirror carved with blooming roses caught my eye on a nearby table. Dante’s mother’s, perhaps?
I peered at the girl in the mirror. She seemed older, somehow. Stronger. My olive skin glowed from the energy Dante had given me, the freckles splattered across my nose winking in the firelight. I thought of his nickname for me and smiled. Maybe I didn’t hate the endearment.
I paused. Lodged between multiple teeth were little black dots. Horrified, I pulled the mirror closer, only to realise the little blurs were poppy seeds. They must have been there all day and Dante hadn’t said a word.
I laughed, feeling a warmth rising in my stomach.The little devil.
The wolf pup liked to play and the next move would be mine.
THIRTY
I spent the next fewdays poring over tomes and I’d never been more thankful Mama had taught Eszter and me our letters. The library was a dream. Tables upon tables in a dark, reddish wood housed books and a cosy fireplace crackled in the corner. Couches and armchairs in sapphires and golds dotted the room, and sconces lined every wall.
I’d stay forever if I could. What more did a girl need when multiple worlds were at her fingertips? Dante had understated the selection. There were indeed several cases of fantasy and romance alone, while the rest were filled with history, poetry, the sciences and the magical and mystifying.
After initially scanning the romance selection and pocketing a few for later—my, my, he wasn’t lying about scandalous—I had hurried on to a section about the supernatural, stacking grimoire after grimoire and historians’ accounts of creatures great and small. Anecdotes of the gods, of the middling world and what lay below, simple spells and tricks. I’d flicked through all of them.
Days had passed and still I had nothing. I tossed the book on the used pile, where it puffed out a cloud of dust indignantly.
Raking a hand through my hair, I sighed, annoyance simmering just under the skin. “I’m doomed, Laszlo.” I hadn’t seen much of my four-legged-friend since arriving in Mistvellen. He’d been spending time with the pages and grooms charged with caring for the horses and hounds of the castle. He padded over to my chair, laying his head in my lap and looking up at me with those big brown eyes. I scratched his ears absentmindedly, shuttering my lids as I leaned back in the chair.
“Anything I can help with?” A voice sounded from the landing above and I peered up to find Margit smiling down at me, the same mischievous expression in her eyes I’d come to expect from Dante.
I scowled. “Unless you can conjure a spell to wipe out a horde of cultists, probably not.”
She glided down the stairwell, taking a seat at the table overflowing with tomes. Laszlo bounded over to her, snuffling at her hands and she laughed, scratching his ears. Her attention turned to the stacks of books. “Dante said you loved to read, but this is … ambitious. What are you searching for?”
I bit my lip, unsure how she’d react, so I offered a half truth. “I’m looking for dark magic. If we’re going to fight the cultists, we’d be better prepared if we knew what to expect.”
She nodded, seeming to accept the answer, but the glitter of her eyes told me she didn’t fully believe me. “You won’t find knowledge on dark magic within these shelves.” My heart sank and I slumped deeper into the chair. “I didn’t say such books didn’t exist,” she added with a grin. “You just need to know where to look. Follow me.”
Rising in a sweep of red velvet skirts, she led me to an alcove in the shelves. There was nothing unusual about it until she pulled on a tattered old tome and hefted the shelf aside. It revealed a hidden passageway descending into the bowels of the castle. I hesitated at the precipice, but she winked. “After you.”
Summoning a fireball to light the way, I progressed into the musty tunnel, focusing on placing one slippered foot in front of the other. Cobwebs clung to my hair and skin and I clawed at my face in disgust. The tunnel had been abandoned for some time. The passage was cold and smelt stale, but that didn’t seem to deter Margit. “What is this place?” I whispered.
