Page 39 of Cursed Beasts

This curse took my life away from me.

The room I used to draw in was a little further down the hall from Zev’s bedroom, giving me a great view of the expansive forest below us, letting in the moonlight from a big window.

Mr. Potter always left me fresh clothes in here. How he took care of all of us was amazing, making me feel sad and guilty he hasn’t been able to pass on to the afterlife.

I guess today was a day full of emotions.

Opening the chest, I pulled out a pair of pants, putting them on quickly. I grabbed a notebook with a couple of pencils and my box of charcoal. The plan was to draw in here, but I was too curious about her.

If I didn't find her in the next ten minutes, I was going to just find a perch to sit on and draw whatever, but I would rather draw her. Going down the flight of stairs to the floor she was on, I took a deep breath, trying to see if I could see what direction her scent went.

My mouth watered instantly as I took a lungful of her scent, immediately making me think of chasing her like the other night. It seemed she was going to the east wing, and I followed, getting harder the longer I followed her scent. When it led me to the library, I was surprised.

The library was one of my favorite places to be in because even though we had been here for so long, I hadn’t read even half of the books here. Mr. Potter kept it stocked with different genres, collecting books about witchcraft and other supernatural books.

In recent years, Mr. Potter had told us books were going digital. Whatever that meant, but he was coming upon fewer books as the years went by. The last set he brought back were romance books. One had a muscular guy on the front of the cover—who looked like he might be constipated—by some author named Whitney.

Another book looked dark and gritty, by someone named Wander. It didn’t look like my type of book, but it said it was “a sexy, thrilling and riveting read” on the front by another person named Willow. The books were still sitting on my bookshelf. I didn’t know if I was a romance kind of guy, but I was going to give them a try.

Strolling into the library, her scent brought me towards the back, where we kept all our history and supernatural books. Staying close to the shadows, I kept myself hidden. She looked to be in awe of the books, running her hands over a row of books like they were sacred.

I leaned against a portion of the wall that had the most shadows, giving me a great view of her. Sliding down to sit, I set my notebook on my lap while I organized my pencils and charcoals beside me.

She stopped, pulled a book out, skimmed the pages, then tucked it under arm grabbing two more before she made her way to a table we had in the corner in front of the glass window.

From this point of view, I didn’t have the greatest view of her. If I leaned over enough, I could see the soft curve of her neck, leading to her supple cleavage, her pouty lips and her long black hair over her shoulder. The moonlight gave her just enough light to make it look like she might be glowing.

It had been a while since I had the urge to draw. The Belladonna was a perfect subject, looking adorable with her brows furrowed and her lips in between her teeth while she read a few pages. I grabbed a thinner pencil, roughly drawing out her pensive expression.

She played with the ends of her hair with one hand as she read. Her violet eyes went back and forth over the text as her expression grew more and more serious. She almost looked angry until her eyes looked at the bottom, widening slightly.

What was she reading?

She reached for her bag when the sound of the clock stopped her. Biting her lip, she looked devastated. Her lip trembled every so lightly as she took a deep breath before she stood up, putting the book she was looking at in her bag, taking the other books back to the shelf where she had grabbed them from.

Before she left the section, she looked back one more time with such longing that I felt her hunger. Was it the books? Or the library?

I brought my legs close to my chest, so I was completely in the darkness, hidden away from her. She had a moment of weakness that I knew she wouldn’t want anyone to see, but I was glad I had.

Every one of them always had a mask of indifference or entitlement, so much that we all assumed that they were all like that. I knew she was different, and this proved my theories from earlier. Something needed to change.

As she walked away from me, I finished the rough sketch of her, shading around her lips and cheekbones. A set of footsteps were leaving as one entered from the outside.

Before he even reached me, I knew it was Aeon. I resisted the urge to put away my drawing, thinking it would be easier to flip to another page, so he didn’t find out I was drawing her. But I think it was time to change and he would have to either accept the change or be the reason we never broke this curse.

“You’re sketching her?” His voice was shocked.

“She’s a good subject,” I responded, looking at the sketch. “I wish I had something to make her eyes violet. I think that would give it a nice—”

“What are you doing, Lucien?” He snapped at me, not letting me finish my sentence.

“I was sketching her?” I pretend to be confused, but I know what he is asking.

“Was she posing for you?” he asked, clearly not amused.

“No, she didn’t even know I was here,” I said, flipping through a few pages, seeing nothing but Aeon’s face and a few of Zev looking angry as always.

“Are you stalking her now? You going to fill that notebook with her pictures?”

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