Page 59 of Cursed Beasts

He left before I could say anything else.

I climbed back into bed feeling like we could actually do this. We could break the spell and it would be a win-win for everyone. A sinking feeling took the place of my hopefulness that left me with dread.

Lucien was right. Hope was a dangerous emotion, and I didn’t know what we would do if we failed. I worried more about Lucien than myself. How do you live for so long in solitude without going crazy?

26

LUCIEN

“Ok, I need you to repeat these words. Slice your hand, adding a few drops to the spell. We can repeat this incantation together,” she said, handing me a knife and pointing out the words she had written. “Then we can add the contents to a piece of parchment, and we can see the spell’s origins and maybe get an idea of what they used.”

I nodded my head, admiring how knowledgeable she was.

“If we can at least get a direction, maybe we can find something to counter the spell and hopefully free us.” She looked up at me and smiled.

I nodded my head, unable to form any words. Her violet eyes were vibrant, the bruising on her face was fading, but she was still breathtaking.

“You got it?” she asked, looking at me skeptically.

“I got it.” I looked down, feeling my face heat up from embarrassment.

“Great, I’m just going to go behind the bookshelf, just in case,” she said, walking away from me.

I was about to start the spell before I realized what she meant.

“Wait, is this not safe?” I asked, looking back at her.

A beautiful laugh came from her, making her entire face light up, and I was confused for a moment.

“I’m kidding,” she said, still laughing, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. “I’ll be right next to you.”

She ran her hand down my arm before standing right next to me.

I mumbled the Latin words, embedding my magic in each word while I cut my palm, allowing a few drops in the cauldron. Katarina stirred in a powder and a stone as we said another series of Latin words.

Power flowed through me, feeling like an old friend. Katarina grabbed my hand as we finished the last of the words. Our hands grew hot together before the magic stopped.

She looked down at our hands in confusion.

“Did you feel that?” she asked, still looking at our hands. “The warmth in our hands?”

“Yea, it was the magic,” I said, confused, until I realized this might have been the first time she had ever felt it.

“It felt like home.” The longing in her voice made my heart ache for her.

“Was that the first time you felt magic?”

“I’ve felt it externally, but I… I’ve never felt it flow through me like that, like it came from me.” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, let's get back to this.”

She let go of my hand, taking a ladle, stirring the contents again before she took some of the liquid, smearing it over a piece of parchment paper.

I wanted to say something to comfort her, but how do you say sorry for your lack of magic?

“This makes little sense,” she said, looking at the words forming on the paper.

I looked down to see what was being written.

Blood

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