Page 19 of Cursed Evermore

“I don’t think you can just lose it.”

“I didn’t think so either but maybe I burned myself out from portaling.”

“Maybe.”

To me, magic felt like the very air around us. I could sense its particles floating, shimmering just beyond sight. Grandmother said it was different for everyone. For her, it had a taste.

It all came down to whichever natural element you were drawn to. It was air for me. Water for her. Fire for Mother. But that was the most basic of a mage’s power. A mage could have several abilities, and even control other elements, but everything linked back to that basic elemental power.

Our magic came from the Fray. The raw, untamed force of energy which was ever-shifting, boundless, and infinite.

The Fray was everything. The storm and the silence. The light and the dark. The elements and what lay beyond them. To summon the Fray was to call upon a force older than time itself to command the storm without knowing if it would obey. Or consume you whole. Whereas the rest of the magical world practiced Galdrlore, structured magic woven from the elements, only mages and dragons were born with a natural link to the Fray.

Now I feared I’d lost the link. What if the wraith took it from me?

“Hey, there.” Emabelle tapped my knuckles. “You zoned out.”

“Sorry.”

“You have to stop thinking about it.Andmagic.” She whispered the wordmagicso low it was as if she hadn’t spoken. “You need to think about moving forward.”

“Moving forward? How am I supposed to do that when my mind physically can’t? There’s nothing to hope for. My mother thinks my father is dead, which aside from being devastating means I have no way of curing myself if I can’t find him. Right now, my future looks like this: marry Thayden and move to Zyvaris with nothing but my journals. The moment the new moon rises, I won’t remember being his wife or how I even got there. And what about children? We’ll have children, and I won’t remember them. I’ll grow old, and I’ll still think I’m fifteen. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”

I couldn’t even think about what I wanted to actually do with my life. Like Mother and Grandmother, I wanted to be a healer.

Healing ran through our bloodline, so it was no surprise that I took to it like fuel on fire. Whereas Mother used conventional methods of healing that were acceptable in the mortal realms, Grandmother had the experience of using mystical magic.

Magic was never an option for me, but now I had neither because the women in Thayden’s family became ladies of the house and didn’t work. Even without that, the curse had already stolen my choice from me. I couldn’t heal anyone if I couldn’t remember what I was taught on a month-to-month basis.

Without memory, without magic, without even the chance to practice mortal healing, what was left of me? A body, a name, a curse, and nothing else. So, I was always screwed.

“Oh, love.” Emabelle gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not supposed to be okay with any of this. None of it is fair. I just meant… you have to find some way toexistin it.”

“I guess that’s the only thing left to do.” Find a way to be okay in this impossible storm where the only thing I could do was survive.

“I think… your mother is doing whatshethinks is best.” A pensive look filled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean she’s right, but she’s doing what she thinks will keep us safe.”

“I never doubted that, but I don’t understand how she can just give up on my father and hand me over to Thayden. She knows what he’s like.”

“As if that would matter. You know she’s always thought the world of him, even when he’s being a bastard.” Emabelle rolled her eyes.

“And that makes it so much harder.”

A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes, and a slow smirk crawled across her lips. “If I were you, I’d hook up with a guy I actually liked.”

“Emabelle.” I rolled my eyes at her even though her suggestion didn’t surprise me.

She was an advocate for casual hookups, especially when Phillipe, the sea merchant’s son, was in town. They’d been together well before my curse and, according to my notes, they still were.

“What? It’s not a bad idea.” She shrugged sheepishly, feigning innocence. “Would you like me to give you the run-down of the wholesome benefits of great sex and wild orgasms?”

“Emabelle.” My mouth fell open.

“StopEmabelleingme.” She giggled, her face becoming animated with ideas. “It’s a well-known fact that getting laid is guaranteed to fix your mood, clear your head, and remind you that you’re still alive.”

“Well known according to whom?You?” I smirked.

“Me and every other woman. Want me to tell you about last month’s hookup with the sexy sea merchant again?” She gave mea wink. “Your face was classic when you first heard the story. I know how you love to live through me.”