Page 24 of A Touch of Darkness (Chronicles of the Cursed #1)

I wake up tangled in sheets that feel too constricting. My dorm room is cloaked in shadow, the faint glow of streetlights seeping through the blinds. My chest feels tight, like I’ve been running a race I didn’t sign up for.

And then it hits me—the memory of last night.

Lucian.

The kiss.

The thought alone sends a shiver coursing through me. My fingers drift to my lips as if I could still feel his touch there, his cold, unyielding presence pressed against me, yet somehow igniting something warm and electric. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was… a shift. A breaking point. It felt like every single thing in the world aligned, like it suddenly made sense.

I have never, in all my life, felt that way.

But then he pulled away.

I groan and throw the pillow over my face, wishing I could smother the memory along with my embarrassment. He didn’t say anything, not really. No explanation, no promise. Just those maddening words: “Let me keep you safe.”

Safe from what? From who? From him? From the Solstice Society?

From myself?

A laugh escapes me, bitter and sharp, as I shove the pillow aside and stare at a lone cobweb on the ceiling. The irony isn’t lost on me. Lucian Draedon, the centuries-old vampire who exudes danger and secrets, wants to protect me. How am I supposed to believe that? And yet, some twisted part of me… does.

I believe him much more than I believe that Amara woman. When I step back from our conversation, I know Lucian is right. She’s telling me flowery ideals and trying to suck me in for her gain—at least that’s what it felt like.

And I’m afraid if I go back and try to get any more information, they won’t let me leave. What if the girls and Lucian are right and they really do just want to use me as a weapon? All signs point to that, now more than ever. I’ve been thinking about my next steps, and I think what I need to do is take initiative with learning more about these inherited powers of mine. I want to learn more about myself, my lineage, about what I can do. Because I think, if I can figure out how to wield these powers, I can use them to help get Lara back.

Could I be wrong? Sure. But are there many other options?

I sit up, my knees drawn to my chest, and rest my forehead against them. My mind is a battlefield, warring between what I know and what I feel. I can’t help my thoughts from spiraling back to Lucian.

He’s dangerous. I know that. He’s a fucking vampire, for God’s sake.

The way he moves, the way he talks—it’s like he’s always holding something back, something that could tear me apart if I get too close. But then there’s the other side of him, the side that looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. The side that kissed me like he meant it, like he… needed it.

And it’s that side of him I can’t stop thinking about.

I let out a shaky breath and glance at the books scattered across my desk. They’re mocking me, those ancient texts filled with riddles and half-truths and mysteries waiting to be solved. None of them have the answers I need. Not about the curse, not about Lara, and certainly not about Lucian.

Lara.

Her name is like a knife, cutting through the haze of my thoughts. The grief is still there, raw and aching, but it’s tangled with something else—hope. It’s reckless and fragile, but it won’t let go of me. I can’t stop hearing her voice, faint and fleeting, like a whisper carried on the wind.

And that feeling… it’s starting to scare me.

I push myself out of bed, the cold floor shocking my bare feet. I pace the room, the walls feeling closer with every step. I’m not built for this kind of waiting, this kind of helplessness.

The kiss, the curse, Lara—it’s all too much. And yet, it’s all connected. I can feel the threads weaving together, forming a trap I can’t escape. Lucian knows more than he’s telling me. The Solstice Society is hiding even more than we’ve discovered. And Lara… Lara is caught in the middle of it all.

Of course, they took the sister that always knew how to get out of anything and left the one that can’t find her way out of a damn paper bag.

How grossly ironic.

I stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My hair is a mess, my eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but it’s not the surface that catches my attention. It’s what’s underneath.

There’s a part of me I’ve been ignoring, a part that’s been whispering in the background, growing louder with every passing day. A part that’s tired of being afraid.

I glance at my features, thinking about the version of Seraphina I saw in the vision of Lucian—when he was cursed. How she and I were one in the same. I wonder what that was trying to tell me. I’ve gone over it in my head so many times, but nothing sparks to life any kind of idea. It’s like I have a mental block where the answer is.

I glance at the clock. It’s early, too early for anyone else to be awake, but I don’t care. I grab the nearest book off the desk— The Bound Curse: A Guide to Reversing Eternity —it’s the only one I haven’t fully devoured over the past couple of days. It’s imposing, probably filled with more questions than answers, but at least it’s a start.

I won’t wait for Lucian to come to me. I won’t wait for the Society to decide what I’m worth. If I’m going to find Lara, I have to start now, and something is pulling me toward this book.

The kiss… it might have been a mistake, or it might have been the thing that woke me up. Either way, I can’t let it paralyze me. Lucian Draedon is a mystery I’ll never solve, but I’ll be damned if I let him or anyone else control my fate—or Lara’s.

With the book in hand, I sink back onto the bed, the weight of it grounding me. I flip through the pages, searching for something—anything—that will help me make sense of this chaos.

The pages of the book feel impossibly fragile beneath my fingertips, each one holding secrets that might crumble if I don’t handle them with care. My finger traces over the faded ink, guiding my eyes as they drink in the words. Every sentence feels like a clue, but none of it is making sense. Not yet.

And then, I see it.

“ She holds the power, the reincarnate of the beholder, she must truly see herself to reveal the truth.”

The second my finger slides under the sentence, a sharp, searing pain blooms at my fingertip. I hiss and pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as I read the words again. My finger throbs as though burned, the faint outline of the words glowing briefly on my skin before fading.

Before I can process it, a sharp crack splinters the air. My head jerks up, and I see the mirror across the room. A jagged fracture runs down the center of the glass, cutting my reflection clean in half. My pulse stutters, a cold chill skittering down my spine.

What the hell?

The crack glimmers faintly, as if the glass itself is alive. I don’t know why, but it pulls me like a magnet, my feet moving before my brain can catch up.

I set the book down on the dresser beneath the mirror, my breath shallow and uneven. My reflection stares back at me, fractured and wrong, the crack splitting my face into two warped halves. My eyes flicker to the jagged line, and for a moment, it almost looks like it’s pulsing—like a heartbeat.

My fingers tremble as I gently press them to the cool surface of the glass. The mirror shudders under my touch, ripples spreading outward like water disturbed by a single drop. My reflection begins to shift, the broken halves merging, twisting into something else entirely.

My gaze lingers on each feature as though seeing them for the first time: my dark eyes, wide and uncertain; my sharp nose; my full lips, parted as I draw a shaky breath.

“Seraphina.”

Her name tumbles from my lips without a second thought and suddenly it’s her reflection I see, but it’s mine, too. Our eyes, our nose, our lips.

Us.

It’s her—but it’s also me.

The crack widens, glowing bright as sunlight, and I stumble back, shielding my eyes. The room hums with energy, the air heavy and electric. When I look again, the glow has faded, but Seraphina and I remain—as one.

Golden embers burn in my eyes now, fierce and unrelenting, as words begin to etch themselves into the glass. They appear stroke by stroke, unseen fingers carving their message:

“ The curse can only be broken by the one who holds the bond, their blood untainted by the touch of desire.”

The sentence from the book. I look down at where it rests on the dresser and shrink backward when the words on the page blur and then glow, seeming to jump off the page. My heart slams against my ribs, the enormity of the revelation crashing into me. Untainted blood. Virgin blood. My blood.

The mirror darkens, the glowing letters fading, leaving behind nothing but the fractured reflection of my face. My hands clutch the edge of the dresser as my knees threaten to buckle.

It’s not just who I am—it’s what I’ve never done. The Solstice Society doesn’t just want me for my lineage. They want me for the purity that’s part of their twisted plan.

The curse can only be broken by the one who holds the bond, their blood untainted by the touch of desire.

My stomach flips. I read it again, slower this time, letting the weight of it sink in. It’s me. The bond is mine. The power is mine. I just need to use it.

The knock on the door is sharp, followed by Nicole’s voice. “Sylvie? Are you in there?”

I glance at the clock—it’s almost nine at night. My stomach sinks. I’ve been sitting here since I woke up, lost in a haze of books, of spells, or ancient rituals, barely noticing the hours slipping by.

Another knock, more insistent. “We’re coming in.”

The door opens, and Nicole and Rebecca step inside. Nicole looks annoyed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, while Rebecca lingers behind, holding a mug of tea in one hand and her phone in the other.

“What’s going on?” Nicole demands, her eyes scanning the mess of books and notes scattered across my bed. “You haven’t answered your phone all day. We were about to send out a damn search party.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, though the hoarseness in my voice betrays me.

“This doesn’t look like fine,” Nicole snaps, gesturing toward the chaotic state of my room. “When was the last time you ate? Or moved?”

Rebecca sets the mug on my desk, the scent of lavender floating in the air, and sits beside me on the bed, her expression softer but no less worried. “Sylvie, we’re here to help. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “I know. But this… it feels like something I need to figure out for myself.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow and drags my desk chair closer to the bed, sitting down with a skeptical look. “Why? What are you trying to prove?”

“It’s not about proving anything,” I say, my voice firmer now. “I’ve spent my whole life relying on other people—my parents, Lara, even you guys. But this… this is my fight. I need to stand on my own.”

Rebecca’s brow furrows as she tilts her head. “You can still stand on your own and let us help. We’ve been through this, Sylvie. You don’t have to push us away.”

I meet her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making my chest ache. “I’m not pushing you away,” I say softly. “But I have to figure this out. I don’t know why, but it feels… personal. Like it’s something only I can do.”

Nicole sighs, her arms dropping to her sides. “Okay, fine. But if you’re going to do this, you need to use every tool you’ve got. Including your magic.”

I blink at her. “My magic? I have no idea how.”

“Yes, your magic,” she says, leaning forward. “You have it, Sylvie. You just need to tap into it. You’ve seen it working. The visions. Lara’s voice in your head.”

Rebecca nods, her expression lighting up with encouragement. “We can help you. We’ve been where you are.”

“You have?” I ask, glancing between them.

Nicole smirks. “Of course. Magic doesn’t just show up fully formed, you know. We both came into ours when we turned eighteen. It took work to get to where we are now, and we have a long way to go, but still...”

Rebecca smiles, her voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “I remember the first time I tried a spell. I was so nervous, I set my mom’s favorite vase on fire.”

Nicole snorts. “Yeah, and I nearly froze my entire dorm room trying to summon ice.” She snorts. “It’s a learning process.”

Despite myself, I laugh softly. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“We’ll help you,” Rebecca says, placing a hand on my arm. “You’ve got so much potential, Sylvie. If you learn to control it, you could use it to help Lara.”

Nicole nods. “You’ve already got the instincts, and that’s half the battle. You just need practice. And that’s where we come in.”

“I may have used some magic earlier,” I admit. “Although I don’t even know how it happened…” I recount the morning, the book, the sentence, the mirror…all of it. Nicole and Rebecca listen in pure wonderment as I tell them about the day. How I kept going back to the one sentence, the virgin blood…

“I didn’t know you were a virgin,” Nicole states rather surprised, and Rebecca playfully slaps her in the arm.

“That’s what you have to say after all of that?” she asks with a laugh. “That’s incredible Sylvie. You are extremely powerful, and you haven’t even started yet.” She stares at me, clearly impressed. But she’s right, I have no idea what I’m doing or how I did it.

“Back to the virgin thing,” Nicole says, and we all giggle. “So what it means is that in order for their plan to work—to rid the world of vampires—you have to be a virgin.” She wags her brows and sits back on the bed. “Seems like an easy fix to me, go get laid.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes, and I stare at her, mouth agape.

“So easy,” I say sarcastically.

“What?” Nicole rebuts. “You’re totally hot, Sylvie. You just need to get out of your shell a bit. We can go to the Quill, mingle, and I’m sure there will be a hot barista dude or book lover perusing the shelves. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. You’re no longer a virgin, and the Society doesn’t have control over you.” She beams with pride over figuring it all out.

Rebecca clearly isn’t so sure. Her brows furrow as she looks from Nicole to me. “Yeah, but what happens to Lara then? There’s no way they’ll be like, ‘Okay, Sylvie. You ruined our plans that have been in place for thousands of years by losing your virginity, but here’s your sister!’” She shrugs. “It can’t be that easy.”

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen and freeze.

Lucian: You weren’t in any classes today.

The message is simple, but it sends a ripple of warmth through me. How does he know I wasn’t in any classes? Did he check the attendance records? The thought is both unsettling and strangely comforting.

Nicole peers over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Is that the hot professor?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What does he want?” Rebecca asks.

“To make sure I’m okay, I guess,” I murmur, setting the phone down. My thoughts drift back to the kiss, to the way his touch lingered like a promise.

Nicole snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Sylvie. Focus.”

She holds one finger in the air like she just had a brilliant idea, and Rebecca and I both wait for the undoubtedly wonderful plan to come out of her mouth.

“You could screw the professor. He clearly cares about you. Inviting you over, checking in on you via text, wanting to help you in any way he can…” She clasps her hands together and pretends to swoon, batting her lashes.

The memory of the kiss comes back. The way his lips felt against mine. The way he practically claimed ownership of me in those quick, few moments.

I guess there could be worse ideas…