Page 10 of Cursed (Court of Isles #1)

Chapter 10

Dawn came swiftly. Somberly.

The sun crept up, the burning ball normally a welcome guest, a happy reprieve from the darkness of night. Today, the light on the horizon felt too harsh, like it was trying too hard to block out the previous night, to wash away the reminders of the past with the start of a new day.

I didn’t want a new day. I wanted Silas. I wanted magic. I wanted The Isle.

Millie had breakfast waiting for me on a table in the garden when I dragged myself outside just after dawn in another one of the slightly-hippie outfits Millie had stocked in my closet. I’d considered slipping into something that more closely resembled my old life for the occasion, but a subconscious part of me had rebelled.

Also, I’d turned up here in a wedding dress and didn’t exactly have access to my former New-York-Black closet. I was at the mercy of Millie’s whims, and somehow, she’d filled my current closet with dresses and skirts and shorts that were fitting both to me and to island life.

Today, I wore a thin, thigh-length sundress with spaghetti straps tied over my shoulders and little wisteria blooms patterned on the cotton fabric. I’d slipped my feet into comfortable sandals and hadn’t bothered to tie my hair back. My waves had developed a life of their own in the salty air, and they didn’t want to be restrained. I didn’t have the heart to tame them.

If something went wrong, and I was forced to stay in my previous life, just maybe they’d allow me to keep this flower-printed dress. A tiny, rebellious token of my time at Wisteria Cottage.

I wistfully stared out to the azure waters. I played with my circlet ring. I did everything but eat the delicious smelling food that Millie had prepared for me—eggs, bacon, toast with fresh jam. The idea of food curdled my stomach.

“At least have some coffee, Doc,” Millie encouraged. “You’ll need your energy for the travel. You never turn down a good cup of coffee.”

“I am from New York,” I lamented halfheartedly, taking a dainty teacup and lifting it to my lips, sipping dutifully. “Half my genetics are caffeine.”

Millie gave an encouraging nod. A moment later, I felt his shadow arrive. His presence darkened the dawn of this new day. I pushed my bistro chair back and launched myself at Millie.

“I don’t want to go,” I told her, clinging tightly to my new friend. “And if something happens to me, just know I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“I love you too.” Millie squeezed me back. “We’ll see you again soon. I’m sure of it.”

Then she bustled away, dabbing at her face with an apron. I was pretty sure my parents hadn’t cried when I’d vanished from the face of the earth. I was absolutely positive that Simon hadn’t. At best, he might’ve been livid, but that would’ve meant he cared at all either way. I was pretty sure the only thing Simon would care about was how he looked in front of his friends and family.

“It’s time.”

That’s all it was, two words from Silas. He was dressed in black jeans again, a black V-neck, his arm muscles filling out the shirt in an impressive way. Not to mention his legs. But alas, now was not the time for anatomical admiration.

I stood, thinking it best to just get a move on. After all, I’d be back here in twelve hours. This was nothing more than a blip.

Silas extended a hand, and I grabbed it. He glanced around us, as if looking for something. He must have found it, because he let out a low whistle. The next second, the tugging motion started, and my body felt like it was lurching into a free fall.

The sensation lasted seconds but felt like hours. By the time my feet hit the tiled floor, I felt like I had whiplash and an upset stomach.

I glanced around. Unfortunately, I recognized my surroundings: I was back in my parents’ house. A walk-up brownstone in Park Slope. They’d remodeled last year, and everything was now all white and sleek. So much so that the place didn’t look lived in, even though I was popping in during the middle of the day with no warning. Even several days after their only daughter had supposedly disappeared in the middle of her wedding.

I stood in the kitchen, getting my bearings, wondering exactly what I was supposed to do for the next twelve hours. I wished Silas was stuck here with me. At least he’d make this situation palatable.

Voices echoed from the dining room. I felt like I should want to see my parents. I should want to go and wrap my arms around them, to bask in my mother’s warm, familiar Chanel scent and my father’s happiness at my return. But, spoiler alert: my mother wasn’t warm and my father wouldn’t be particularly happy I was back, especially if my presence interfered with his surgery schedule.

The sound of my father’s voice made me think this was one of the rare days he had off. Was it the weekend already, or had he just taken some time off due to his daughter’s disappearance? Maybe the hospital had forced him to take a few days off in light of the complex situation.

I glanced at the espresso machine on the counter. It was the best coffee machine money could buy, and yet, I wanted Millie’s fresh brew in the middle of the courtyard instead. I saw the toaster that was so advanced it could literally talk to you, and yet, I wanted Millie’s misshapen sourdough loaf. I saw the fake greenery in strategically placed pots, and instead I longed for the rich and wild foliage that surrounded Wisteria Cottage.

A Court of Ice and Emptiness.

I glanced down at my dress, my sandals. They’d let me keep them, for now at least. They were the only warmth and sunshine in this whole place.

Footsteps, then, “Allie?”

I almost didn’t turn around at the nickname. I’d gotten so used to being called Alessia over the last few days that Allie barely registered. It was amazing how it’d only taken a moment for me to shed the remnants of my old life. Like a snake shedding a skin that no longer fit—gone and forgotten, left to disintegrate into the ground.

I turned around and found my mother frozen in the doorway.

She blinked at me, and for a minute, something flashed through her eyes. Relief? Confusion? Disappointment? It happened so fast, I couldn’t say for sure. Then she gathered herself.

“What are you wearing?” my mother asked finally.

“That’s...” Her reply boggled my mind. “That’s the only thing you have to say to me?”

My mother shook her head as if to clear cobwebs from her own mind, and also to make sure I wasn’t a mirage. “Where have you been? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?” I asked.

“And your hair.” My mother stepped toward me like I’d had a mental breakdown, and the clear-cut evidence of it was the state of my hair and my choice in attire. “My God, what happened to you?”

“Who are you talking to, Lucinda?” my father called from the other room.

He had continued talking to someone, I realized, which meant one other person was here. My stomach sank as a third voice echoed through the brownstone.

“Allie?” Simon appeared in the doorway behind my mother.

Then my father appeared behind him. All three of them, packed into one doorway, almost comically. Like a cartoon or a sitcom, except this didn’t feel at all funny. Maybe it was a little funny, but mostly in a sad way.

“What are you wearing?” Simon asked. “What happened to your hair?”

My father cleared his throat. “How’d you get in here? ”

“We didn’t change the locks,” my mother snapped pointedly to her husband. “I’m sure that’s how she got in.”

“Allie.” Simon took a step into the room. “How dare you run off on me like that.”

I waited, trying to feel out how they remembered the situation at the altar. If their memory of it had been altered in any way. Perhaps by magic.

The idea of magic in this stuffy, sterile home seemed laughable to me. Was it any wonder I had trouble believing its existence when this was where I’d spent most of my life? A home completely barren of love and imagination?

I didn’t need twelve hours. I was ready to go back. I considered calling out for Silas, but I couldn’t risk my parents having me committed before the day was out. I wanted to be available for a quick exit when Silas returned.

Granted, I was pretty sure Silas would stop at nothing to find me, which was quite different than how my parents felt about me. Here they were, having tea and crumpets with my ex-fiancé with no sign of worry on the horizon.

“We were just discussing the press release we were going to put out,” Simon said. “You leaving me at the altar like that did a number on my image. Bolting down the aisle like you didn’t want to marry me.” Simon’s brow furrowed. “Then we don’t hear from you for days, and you come back looking like a disaster? You are so irresponsible, Allie.”

“Uh huh,” I muttered, wondering how I’d ever been so brainwashed that the thought of marrying this man had been acceptable.

“I’ve got a friend,” my father said. “The best psychiatrist in the business. Name’s Dr. Simmons. Very expensive, top of his game. Works with a lot of celebrities. They have in-patient clinics, and word will never get out.”

Simon was nodding along with my father. My father the problem solver, like this was a solid proposition, a real way to fix this situation.

Holy guacamole , I realized, I didn’t even have twelve hours before these guys wanted to lock me away. Silas better hurry up getting that prescription for Eloise and get his tail feathers back here before my parents shoved medication at me.

I hadn’t even started talking about magic yet. I hadn’t really started talking about anything, to be fair.

“I like that,” Simon said thoughtfully. “Though it might not be the worst thing if we let it slip that Allie is seeking treatment. We could change the press release, just say that the stress got to her. Poor thing,” Simon said, gesturing his hand toward me flippantly. The man actually turned around so his back was to me like I wasn’t a part of this conversation. “It would be understandable. ”

“Absolutely,” my mother continued. “Everyone knows the stress of planning a Page 6 wedding is enough to knock even the most put together bride off her feet. Not to mention the fact that Allie is a doctor. It makes sense that it was too much to handle.”

“I’m fine,” I said from behind them. “I just didn’t want to get married.”

All three heads swiveled to face me.

“That’s ridiculous,” my mother said. “You’ve been with Simon for three years. Of course you wanted to get married.”

“I don’t want to get married anymore,” I said, since arguing with her was pointless. “In fact, I don’t want to be here. I’m going for a walk.”

“You can’t go for a walk,” my mother said. “You just got here.”

“You guys don’t seem like you want to talk to me,” I said. “You don’t seem to care that I’ve been gone for how long, several days?”

They all continued staring at me.

“Surely, you were just having cold feet. Needed to find yourself?” Simon suggested. “Judging by the looks of you, maybe Martha’s Vineyard, or somewhere near the ocean?” He winced as he looked at my hair, like he could see the salt on it.

“Actually, I went to a magical island,” I said dryly. “It’s very beautiful there. ”

“Uh huh,” Simon said over my head to my father. The look they exchanged made it clear they were pretty sure I’d spent the last several days on a cocaine bender. He probably would’ve been relieved if I had . “It happens to the best of us, sweetheart.”

“You really think I want to marry you? Still ?” I asked in awe. “I ran away from the altar.”

“Cold feet,” Simon repeated.

I realized my ex-fiancé had done this a lot over the years. If I disagreed with Simon, he had this habit of just repeating what he wanted me to believe until finally it wore me down and I went along with it. He’d written our whole narrative because I hadn’t cared enough to fight for my opinion.

Well, I cared now. Just not enough to prove anything to them. I only cared about getting back to The Isle, back to myself. My real self.

“You’re right,” I said finally, deciding to appease them to make my twelve hours here marginally less miserable. “It was cold feet.”

Simon looked relieved, like I was finally back on track and following the script.

“Maybe I’ll go for a walk and get some fresh air,” I said. “Clear my head, then we can get that press release rolling.”

A part of me thought that maybe Silas would sense my distress if I got out of this place. Maybe if I stepped in front of a bus—not actually to get hurt, just to send an alarm to Silas—he’d swoop in early and save me from this disaster.

I’d jump out of the way of the bus, of course, at the very last minute. A brush with death seemed mildly less terrifying than spending twelve hours with Simon.

“No,” Simon said. “You won’t. You can’t go outside now. What if you’re seen?”

My mouth actually fell open. “What’s wrong with that?”

“We haven’t put out a statement. We haven’t told my friends and family you’re back. You can’t just return . We need to position it appropriately.”

“For Pete’s sake,” I blurted. “I’m so glad I didn’t marry you.”

Then I turned and stormed upstairs to my childhood bedroom. My parents had turned it into an office the day I moved out, but there was still a couch. I laid on it and stared at the ceiling. So much for going with the flow.

I closed my eyes and wished. Really, really hard. For Silas. For magic. For the island.

I opened my eyes. Nothing, still here.

I heard the doorknob turn, but I’d locked it on my way in.

“Let me in,” Simon demanded, his voice deceptively soft, like I should definitely trust him this time. “Open up, Allie. We’ll figure this out. ”

“My name’s not Allie!” I called back.

I could almost feel Simon and my mother and father exchanging looks.

“I’ll get Dr. Simmons on the horn,” my father said in low tones, like my supposed mental breakdown also made me deaf. “He’ll be here within the hour, and we can get her set up at a nice private facility.”

I sat up on the couch. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been home all of fifteen minutes and not a single person had touched me—no hug, no squeeze of affection, not even a handshake.

Not a single person had actually wanted a response as to where I’d been. They all just assumed I’d turned into a hippie who lived on the beach and wore cotton dresses, which sounded pretty nice to me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t tried it already.

It didn’t take Dr. Simmons an hour to arrive. It took twenty-nine minutes. Simon had eventually given up fiddling with the doorknob, and my parents had retreated with my ex-fiancé to the sitting room to wait for professional help.

“Silas,” I muttered to the ceiling, “get your fine glutes back here.”

I prayed to the magical fates and Fae Queens that he’d hear me, but no luck.

The doorknob fiddling started again thirty-seven minutes after I’d entered the room. Apparently my parents had only needed eight minutes with Dr. Simmons to explain my current predicament.

As the fiddling grew louder, I wondered if they would drag me out of here kicking and screaming against my will. Surely, they wouldn’t go that far.

I didn’t have to consider long. I knew the answer. It was why I’d been a top student in my class. An overachiever at everything I tried. Failure wasn’t an option. Dissent wasn’t an option. Opinions of my own—also not an option.

My parents had wrung the individuality out of me from the day I could walk, starting with my preferred name, continuing to my choice in career and husband. I wasn’t sure I’d made a decision on my own until now.

I sat on the couch, spun my hair into a bun with the hair tie from around my wrist.

Waited.

The fiddling stopped for a while. Another forty minutes, maybe, while I sat and waited. The next time I heard a noise, there was no fiddling, no request to enter—there was only an entry.

A key twisted, and the door opened. Dr. Simmons was flanked by two men, both bigger than him and dressed like bodyguards.

“Allie. Good to see you,” Dr. Simmons said kindly, like this wasn’t a hostile takeover. “I’m sorry you’ve been feeling ill. It happens to the best of us. That’s what keeps my business booming.”

He gave a fake, coarse laugh that grated on my ears.

“What, kidnapping?” I muttered, thinking how ironic it was that I’d come back here to make my own decisions, and in turn found my freedom more elusive than ever.

Now this was a kidnapping. What Silas had done—that man was not capable of this. I didn’t care who he’d killed or kidnapped. At least he’d probably had a good reason—like possibly saving an entire island worth of lives.

My parents were no Hunters—they were worse.

“I’m not going with you,” I said calmly to the medical professional and his thugs. “I don’t ever want to see any of you again. Just leave me alone, and I won’t bother you ever again.”

“Where will you go?” Simon asked, like I’d told a joke. “You need me. We’ll still be married, Allie. It will just take some time for you to get yourself right. Everyone will understand. Don’t put up a fight.”

“Like hell I won’t.” I eyed the bodyguards.

I wondered if my magic might work here. Probably not, seeing as I was on a twelve-hour probation. I didn’t feel the now-familiar connection to my powers like I did on The Isle—a faint sense of being in tune with nature and the world around me.

Or maybe it was just my parents’ house blocking out anything remotely natural .

“I’m not going with any of you,” I repeated. “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t threaten them,” Simon said, controlling the narrative. Always controlling it. “Or they’ll have to use force, and they don’t want to. It’ll be all your fault, Allie.”

“Just leave me alone,” I insisted. “Let me rest here for a while, and by tomorrow I’ll be gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Simon pasted a frown on his lips. “That’s not how this works. Unfortunately, you are in such a state you can’t possibly be expected to take care of yourself. Let me take care of you.”

“Simon—” I felt my chest tightening as the men stepped into the room, obviously moving on some unseen signal. “Please don’t do this to me. Give me the day to regroup, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Dr. Simmons will help you regroup,” Simon said. “When you’re ready to behave, you’ll be allowed back.”

“Simon!” I paused as the men stood on either side of me. “Mom. Dad. Please, don’t let them do this.”

“It’s for your own good,” my mother said. “Just listen to them, and it’ll be easier.”

“Dr. Simmons is very good at what he does,” my father reiterated. “Trust the process.”

Then both thugs grabbed my arms, and I screamed. Not out of fear, but out of anger and rage and sadness. My past, my home…these people I called my family—it was worse than I’d ever remembered .

They were putting me back in my cage.

Let them try.

“She’s not going with them.” The voice came from behind my parents, out in the hallway. “Get your hands off her.”

My parents broke apart, startled by the enormous figure behind them. Silas stepped between them. Simon gawked at him. Something flashed in my ex’s eyes— he remembered.

Simon’s expression buckled, like he was trying to fight against the memories that had been wiped. Like some part of him recognized Silas. Ultimately, Simon wasn’t strong enough to break through the barriers of magic holding him captive, and he eventually succumbed to a frown, like it had all happened in a dream he couldn’t quite place.

“Who are you?” Simon barked. Then, to Dr. Simmons, “Where’d he come from?”

“He’s not one of mine,” Dr. Simmons said. “I’ve no clue who that is.”

Silas took a step into the room. Wind whipped around us, fluttering my hair. Dr. Simmons’s blazer flared with the breeze from Silas’s silent storm. My mother blinked in shock.

Silas didn’t stop moving until he was in front of me.

The bodyguards still hadn’t let me go. They each had one of my arms in their grasp. I was pretty surprised their arms weren’t cut off yet .

“Don’t let them take me.” My eyes smarted with tears as I looked up into Silas’s face. “Take me home. Please— I’m begging you .”

Silas licked his lower lip, calculating. Rage and anger were barely controlled beneath the surface.

“The Isle is my home,” I said. “I will breathe its air until the day I die, whether that’s tomorrow or millennia from now. Take me with you, Silas.”

“Is this who you’ve been shacking up with?” Simon seemed annoyed, like Silas was another prick in his perfect plan. “Really, Allie? What a cliché. When’d he get out of prison?”

Silas cocked his head and looked at me. He had a question in his eyes, and I was pretty sure it was something like, Can I get rid of them already?

I shook my head no .

“Don’t,” I whispered. “You’re better than them.”

Silas looked slightly disappointed, but he nodded. Reluctantly.

“Remove your hands from Alessia,” Silas instructed the guards. “Or I’ll remove them for you.”

One of the guards snorted. Silas was bigger than both of them, but there were two guards and only one of Silas. What they didn’t know was that Silas could snuff them out with a breath. The only reason he’d leave them alive was per my request .

A second later, the sound of breaking bones confirmed my theory.

Both security guards crumbled over, grunts and curses and groans of agony following as their arms bent at vulgar angles. Silas didn’t even bother to look in their direction as they collapsed in fits of pain.

As a tear slipped down my cheek, Silas lifted my chin and studied the droplet like there was a whole world encased in that watery shell.

“Are you ready to go?” he murmured softly. “With me, for good?”

“Did you get the medicine?” I asked. “For Eloise? And the thing I requested for Poppy?”

“Of course. All I need is you.”

I gestured behind me. “Do you understand now why I care so deeply about being free? More than anything, Silas, I need to be myself.”

One of the guards reached for my leg with his good arm. Another bone cracked. Another wail of pain.

In answer to my question, Silas reached behind me and tugged the binder holding my hair out and let it drop to the floor. He ran a hand through my untamed locks, letting them waterfall down my shoulders.

“Be as wild as you like, Alessia.” Silas watched me with guarded appreciation. “I’ve only ever wanted you to be you .”

I swallowed hard. Nodded .

“Are you ready?” Silas extended an arm. When I nodded again, he tucked me to his side. “Let’s go.”

The tugging motion returned, and we hurtled through the air, away from New York—away from my family. Away from captivity and real life and broken engagements and stifling homes and emptiness.

Toward light and love and belonging and meaning.

We were free at last. A sense of jubilation bubbled in my gut. I’d finally found my place on this earth. No more doubts, no more uncertainty.

Until something went wrong.

Mid-journey, I felt the jolt like a record scratch. A swirl of colors, a mix of sounds—a cacophony of terror. Wrong, wrong, wrong. We were mid-journey back to The Isle, but something wasn’t right.

A jolt, and then Silas was ripped from my side. The feeling of loss hit me like a wave, enveloping me completely.

“Silas!” I shrieked, but my words were sucked into an abyss. I couldn’t yell, couldn’t vocalize my fear—and the next thing I knew, I tumbled to the ground, scraping knees and elbows as I hurtled into a wall of solid rock.

Literally, lots of rocks.

I’d landed right outside of Wisteria Cottage, pummeling into the rock wall like a UFO knocked out of the sky prematurely. Somehow, Silas had undershot our destination, and I’d slammed into the protective wall .

I stood up, looked around. I sensed Millie rushing toward me, but I was too distracted to look at her as I studied my surroundings.

“Silas!” I shouted, but I already knew my answer, even before I saw Millie’s worried face.

He was gone.