Page 28 of Bewitched by the Fruit Bat King (The Bewitching Hour #3)

I opened the grimoire carefully, aware of Luna watching me with uncharacteristic intensity. The faded pages contained the same entries I'd seen before, the frustrating gaps where information had been removed, the tantalizing fragments that hinted at a larger story.

"It's the same," I sighed, flipping through familiar pages. "Nothing new."

"Maybe you need to look differently," Luna suggested. "If your magic is enhanced, maybe you can see things you couldn't before."

I ran my fingers over the pages, seeking any hint of hidden text or magical concealment. Nothing revealed itself. Frustrated, I glanced back at the moonflower on my windowsill.

"Any other helpful tips?" I asked it sarcastically.

To my shock and Luna's visible startlement, the flower's bloom quivered, turning slightly toward me like a face seeking attention. In my mind, I felt rather than heard: I can reveal truth hidden between lines.

"Oh my god," I whispered, looking between the plant and my friends. "It actually answered."

"What did it say?" Luna's voice was hushed, her eyes wide.

"Something about nectar revealing hidden truth," I said, already crossing to the windowsill. "I think... I think it wants me to use its nectar on the book."

Bethany watched with fascination as I carefully collected a drop of clear liquid from the moonflower's center. "This is either going to be amazingly magical or destroy a priceless historical artifact."

"Let's hope for the former," I murmured, returning to the grimoire.

With trembling fingers, I pull a single petal from the flower and rub it onto the page where Hazel's story abruptly ended.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened.

Then, slowly, like invisible ink revealed by heat, new text began to appear between the existing lines.

Delicate, cramped handwriting filled every available space, revealing the hidden narrative that had been there all along.

"It worked," Luna breathed, leaning over my shoulder.

I began to read aloud, my voice catching as the true story emerged:

"Viktor has married another, as the council demanded.

My heart is broken beyond repair, yet I must preserve the truth for those who come after.

Marianne, my daughter—OUR daughter—must know her heritage someday.

The Drake blood within her is powerful, as is the Florence magic she has inherited.

I have hidden her among my cousins to protect her from those who would use her as a pawn in their games.

The curse I have cast is born of pain but designed with purpose.

Only when a Drake truly chooses love over duty, when both bloodlines embrace their joining with full hearts rather than divided loyalties, will the curse be broken.

Until then, let Drake blood turn savage whenever it mingles with Florence magic, a reminder of the price of betrayal. "

I looked up, meeting Luna's worried eyes. "Marianne was their daughter," I whispered. "Viktor abandoned his own child."

"And Hazel cursed his entire bloodline in revenge," Bethany added, her usual lightheartedness gone. "A curse that activates whenever a Drake and a Florence... oh."

The implication hung heavy in the air. I turned back to the grimoire, continuing to read the hidden text that filled the once-empty pages.

Each passage revealed more of our intertwined history—how the Florence witches descended from the original witch clan, how they developed communication with plants as a way to preserve their history when written records were destroyed or altered by those in power.

And most disturbingly—how I, Willow Thorne, was a direct descendant of Marianne, the daughter born of the broken mate bond between Hazel and Viktor.

A dying potted succulent at the shop's entrance had been maintaining contact with all the plants in the store. But as its life force dimmed, I heard its final warning with perfect clarity: "Drake blood turns when Florence blooms."

I set the grimoire down with shaking hands. "I think... I think I'm causing the vampire transformations," I whispered. "The curse is activating because of our bond."

Luna's face was grave. "That would explain why Marcus changed at the flower fields when you were there. Your magic, your connection to Kane..."

"Is making his vampires turn feral," I finished, a cold weight settling in my stomach. "And potentially Kane himself."

Bethany reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "You need to talk to him."

"I need to figure out how to stop this," I corrected, my mind racing. "If the curse activates because of our bond, then..."

"Don't even think about it," Luna said sharply, knowing where my thoughts were headed. "Breaking a mate bond can be fatal for both parties."

"And having bloodthirsty vampires rampaging through the world isn't exactly a great alternative," I countered.

The moonflower on my windowsill rustled again, drawing my attention. Its silent communication filled my mind: "The answer lies in choice, not sacrifice. Read more."

I returned to the grimoire, applying more nectar to subsequent pages.

The hidden text continued, revealing fragments of Hazel's thoughts in the days and weeks after Viktor's betrayal.

Her heartbreak, her rage, but also her hope—that someday, their bloodlines would reunite properly, that the wrong would be righted.

One passage in particular stood out:

"The curse has a flaw, as all magic born of pain must. It can be broken, though not in the way the Drakes will try.

They will seek to sever bonds, to keep our bloodlines separate, but this only strengthens the curse's hold.

The true breaking requires what Viktor could not give—a complete choice, freely made, with full knowledge of the cost."

I looked up at my friends, hope and fear warring within me. "I need to talk to Kane. Now."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Luna asked, her concern evident. "If the curse is activating because of your connection..."

"Then avoiding each other won't solve anything," I said firmly. "This has been building for centuries, Luna. Running away won't stop it."

Bethany stood, gathering empty coffee cups with unusual efficiency. "We'll help however we can. But Willow?" Her eyes met mine, serious for once. "Be careful. Curses this old have a way of protecting themselves."

As they prepared to leave, I found myself drawn back to the windowsill where the moonflower continued its impossible bloom. Its presence felt different now—less like a decorative plant and more like a sentinel, a guide.

"Thank you," I whispered to it, feeling only slightly ridiculous for talking to a flower.

After my friends departed, I stood in my apartment surrounded by my newly vocal plants, the grimoire open before me, and the mate bond a steady presence in my chest despite Kane's absence. Everything had changed in ways I couldn't have imagined twenty-four hours ago.

I reached for my phone to call Kane, then hesitated. This wasn't a conversation for text messages or hurried phone calls. If we were going to untangle centuries of curses and broken bonds, we needed to do it face to face.

First, though, I needed to understand exactly what we were dealing with. I settled back on the couch with the grimoire, ready to coax more secrets from its hidden text. The plants around me leaned closer, as if they too were eager to uncover the truth that had been concealed for so long.

"Alright," I murmured to my leafy audience, applying more nectar to the pages. "Let's find out what really happened between Hazel and Viktor, and how we're supposed to fix it."

The mate bond pulsed warmly in my chest, as if approving my determination.

Somewhere across the state, Kane was dealing with the consequences of our connection in his own way.

Soon we would need to confront this together, but for now, I had a family history to uncover and talking plants to get used to.

Just another day in the life of a witch accidentally mated to the fruit bat vampire king.