Page 86 of Break Her Heart
He was always skeptical, but he still scribbled a note beside the page, just in case.
I flipped a few more pages until another blade caught my eye. It was a short blade as thin as a needle with an etching of a symbol.
“And this one?”
August let out a breath as he looked again. “Uniros. With one drop of blood drawn, you can make the person see anything you want them to see, but it only works for moments.”
“That’s not it,” Benedict said.
I leaned back in the creaky wooden chair, rubbing my temples. “I despise this,” I muttered. “I’m not made for sitting in a dusty room flipping through centuries-old tomes every single day. This isn’t helping. This is exhausting.”
August glanced up from his own pile, his expression sharpening. “You say that every day.”
“Because I feel it every day,” I snapped. “I’m not a scholar. I’m a witch who’s used to actually doing something.”
August’s eyes narrowed. “You also saythatevery day.”
“Because nothing changes!” I shot back. “We sit here for hours, digging through rot and dust, and for what? You’re just using me—using what I am. That’s all this has ever been, hasn’tit? You needed help with research, and then I ended up in your bed, so now you get both.”
Maybe it was that I was truly bored, or maybe it was because I felt like we hadn’t gotten any closer to stopping Carrow and the clock was ticking. I could never admit it to him, but I was scared. Scared of Carrow coming back—and coming after me, but more importantly, scared of what it meant for August.
He stood slowly, the movement tight with frustration, rage simmering behind his eyes. “Need I remind you that I could have compelled you this entire time? I could have had you abandon your family and stay with me just to find the answers I needed, but I didn’t. Can’t you understand that? You always think my intentions with you are bad. Yes, I withheld things from you, and yes, I needed your help… but I never forced you.” He turned sharply and moved toward the door.
“I thought you didn’t want me out of your sight,” I called after him.
He paused. “You’re safe here with Benedict. No one else comes up to the archives.”
And then he was gone, the door thudding shut behind him.
The room was silent except for the slow turning of pages and the steady scratching of Benedict’s pen. I hadn’t realized how loud August’s presence was until it vanished.
Benedict’s voice came softly, almost cautiously. “Augustus has never compelled you?”
I turned to him, shaking my head. “No.”
He studied me for a beat, then asked, “If I may… why did you come here with him? Why would you put yourself in such a dangerous position?”
“We made a deal.”
“A deal?”
If August trusted him enough to let him in on our plan, then surely he could know.
“Me for the freedom of witches.”
He studied me for a moment. “That seems like a lot for one girl to have on her.”
“Well, my father is—” I paused, feeling the familiar weight press on my chest, “my brotheris the leader of the coven. It’s worth it to me to know he and our descendants will be protected.”
I expected him to ignore my answer and continue his work like he always did every time we had a conversation, but the rustle of parchment had gone still. I looked up.
Benedict was staring at me.
“What?”
“Those were your parents Carrow killed.”
I nodded slowly.
