Page 58 of The Curse of Ophelia

I didn’t stop walking until we were far enough away that their voices had drifted into silence. Only the noises of woodland creatures, a trickle of the stream, and Jezzie’s ragged breathing surrounded us now.

Turning to my sister, I set my spear and Starfire on the ground softly, keeping my movements slow and controlled. Sunlight streamed through the branches, highlighting her horror-stricken face. I hated the expression painted across her features. It crawled beneath my skin and clawed at my gut.

She was terrified—of me.

I wanted nothing more than to embrace her, run a hand down her back to ease the many fears mounting in her mind. Chase away those shadows like our mother had when we were young and woke frightened in the night. But we were no longer children, and the fear was not sprouted from a figment of nightmare. It was real. The web on my arm was real.

Hiding was not an option.

“Jezebel, please,” I begged softly, lowering my impaired wrist to my side. “It’s okay, I won’t let it get near you.”

“What?” She jolted into motion, my words awakening her. Her eyebrows crinkled inward.

“The Curse…” I breathed, the words a tingle on my tongue. It was the first time I had spoken it aloud to anyone other than Damien. “I won’t let it hurt you. It is my burden to shoulder.”

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “Ophelia, if the Curse is in your blood, it is in mine, as well.” She spoke as if I was being ridiculous. Her words were firm, but I didn’t miss the subtle inspection of her own wrists.

Then I realized, the fear I had seen on her face was not fear of me. It was fear for me. Fear for what I was to face because of the Curse.

She raised her chin, only a flicker of that fear lingering in her eyes. “The hand has been dealt. We are Cursed. But if this is to be our plague, I will face it with you so that you won’t greet darkness alone.”

My stomach plummeted at her words. My sister—my strong, charismatic, fearless gift of a sister was prepared to look death in the face for me. It was a bit odd that she did not react more to the thought of her death, but I didn’t question it. A warm air snaked around my shoulders, bolstering me.

I took two tentative steps toward her, assessing her comfort at having my scarred body so close. “Jezebel,” I exhaled, relieved when she did not back away. I gripped her hand. “You were born fearless and have not let our corrupt world take that from you. I love that steel heart of yours.” I shook my hair back from my face. “But you will not greet this with me.”

Her fingers curved around mine. “What do you mean?”

“The Curse did not appear on Mother or Father. It has not soiled the blood of either branch of our ancestors, nor has it been reported on a single Mystique in the past two years. I am the lone case, and for reasons known only to the Spirits, it has chosen me.”

Tears welled in my sister’s eyes as she grasped the truth. “I will not lose you, Ophelia.” She squeezed my hand tighter like she could hold me to the earth with pure will. “You will not walk this path alone.”

Her words brought the stinging sensation to my eyes, too. “I don’t have a choice.”

“How long?” Jezebel asked, ignoring my affirmation.

“It appeared two days before my birthday.”

Her eyes flashed to mine. “And you hid it?” When I nodded, she added, “Your speech.” It wasn’t a question, but an understanding of the toast I had given at my birthday.

I nodded again, squeezing her hand gently.

“You’ve been different. I thought—” She stumbled. “I hoped you were returning to your old self, but you were saying goodbye.”

“Jezebel, I lost everything two years ago. The man I love, my future, our people.” My voice rose with hysterics, words tangled between sobs and screams as thoughts I had not dared voice previously poured from my lips. “I have been wandering aimlessly, a shell of the person I was born to become. There was nothing in my life that could restore me. And when this affliction appeared on my skin…I was afraid, at first. But I was only afraid for Mother and Father. For you. I was never afraid for myself. When I learned that I was the only one Cursed, I wept with relief. Relief because if this takes my life, I won’t have to suffer anymore. I will no longer have to choose between fighting and surrendering.”

I took a deep breath to steady my sobs. “I am tired, Jezzie. I am tired of trying to remedy things that may be beyond repair. If the Curse takes me, I won’t have to try anymore. I can rest. This journey is my last battle, and I have every intention of seeing it completed, but when the Curse finally progresses, I will greet death with open arms.”

Jezebel wrenched her hand from my grasp. “No!” she shouted in my face. “No, you’re giving up.”

“Is that so bad? I watched two of my closest friends nearly die—I watched you nearly die. I can’t take any more pain.”

“What happened to me was no mere accident, and I am fine. You don’t get to use any of that as an excuse.” She sighed. “You do not surrender, Ophelia. That isn’t you.”

I threw my arms out, gesturing to the air around me. “I don’t have another option.” And when I admitted those words, my own heart sank.

“We can fight it.” She turned to the stream and paced along its edge, the slowly flowing water a mere shadow of her flustered movements.

“I am trying, but I don’t know how. I can feel it burrowing into my veins, my blood. The pain…” I stopped at the look on her face. She didn’t need to hear about the agony I’d been battling, even as it tore through me.

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