Page 12 of Cursed (Wicked Heirs #2)

I paced the confines of my dimly lit room and each footfall echoed in the hollow space like a heartbeat.

Shadows clung to the corners, twisting and shifting as if they were alive, and the grimoire’s whispers echoed in my mind. I pressed my hands against my ears to keep them out, but it never worked—if I couldn’t figure out how to use the spells that were etched on those pages, the book was going to drive me insane.

I was sure of that much.

The Bloodstone Grimoire lay on the vanity, and the dark stones embedded in the leather cover winked ominously. It was a cursed thing, a relic that promised power but threatened madness—

If I couldn’t control it, its power would consume me.

A sudden knock on my door shattered the fragile silence, a sharp rap that made me jump as panic surged through me.

“Damn it,” I muttered. Was it Bastian? Had he returned to taunt me about the grimoire again? Or to demand more ‘favors.’

I stomped to the door, ready to shout at him and tell him to leave me alone.

I wrenched the door open, prepared for confrontation. But instead of Bastian’s unsettlingly angelic face, Titus loomed over me—his presence was both magnetic and menacing. His jet-black hair fell in disarray around his sharp features, and his eyes glinted with animalistic delight. A chill ran down my spine, and I instinctively took a step back.

“What do you want?” My voice wavered, and deep down I knew I had no authority over him—and the spells that should have kept him out were far too weak to protect me now. He stepped closer, invading my space without invitation, and the doorway suddenly felt smaller—stifling.

The shadows seemed to deepen around him and enhanced his aura of cruel confidence as the weight of his gaze locked me in place.

“Avril, you haven’t been to the library lately— Perhaps something else is occupying your time?” Mock concern filled his voice as he glanced over my shoulder and into the room. He tilted his head slightly as his gaze slid back to me, and an infuriating smirk curled at the edges of his lips.

The grip I had on the edge of the door tightened as I fought the urge to slam it shut. “Leave. Now.” The words came out as sharply as I intended, but they still sounded weak in my ears.

I refused to let him toy with me—not again.

“Oh, but why would I?” he countered. He took a breath, testing the limits of the spells that had been cast over my door, and then he stepped closer. I skittered back, and he entered my sanctuary with an unsettling grace. The darkness in the room seemed to coil around him like a lover, and I swallowed hard as my knees weakened.

I swallowed hard, but my throat was dry as sandpaper. “What do you want, Titus?” The words escaped between clenched teeth. I hated how much his presence unsettled me—but more than that, I hated the way my body responded to him.

I wondered if he knew.

“To help you, of course,” he said smoothly. “You’re struggling, sister— The grimoire is… powerful, and it’s painfully obvious that you need assistance.”

“I— I don’t need your help,” I choked out. “I’m doing fine. It’s fine.”

The grimoire lay on my vanity, dark and foreboding, and its whispers twisted inside my mind. I had spilled too much of my own blood and learned nothing—and the markings were fading faster every time I tried.

“Why would you help me?” I blurted out.

“Don’t you see?” he said, his tone almost hypnotic. “With my guidance, you could awaken the true potential hidden within that book. You could be free of this place— Free from Lucian—”

“Or I could lose everything,” I shot back, anger flaring beneath the surface. “You’ve betrayed me before, Titus. Why would this time be any different?”

He chuckled softly, but the sound was low and dangerous and it sent a ripple of unease through me. “You have my word,” he said. “My only interest lies in seeing you thrive. Don’t you want to unravel the mysteries of that book— You have a birthright, too, Avril. You can unlock what’s rightfully yours.”

I stood frozen for a moment, but then anger flickered inside me like a candle flame caught in a gust—hot and wild, yet fragile enough to be extinguished at any moment. “You think I’d ever trust you?” I spat. My hands curled into fists at my sides, and the wounds on my wrists and hands ached with the force of my grip.

I swayed on my feet, suddenly dizzy, and Titus took a leisurely step forward, and his smirk widened. The shadows cast by the firelight and the candles I’d lit so many hours ago danced across his sharp features, and accentuated the gleam in his dark blue eyes.

“Why must you be so dramatic?” He stepped closer and invaded my space with an unsettling ease. The scent of damp earth and decay mingled with the acrid tang of dark magic that clung to him like a second skin.

My throat tightened as I fought the urge to recoil from his proximity. Each calculated movement of his felt like a taunt, a reminder of how utterly trapped I was within these walls— “What do you really want? You’ve done enough harm already.”

“My only intention is to help you unlock the power hidden within that grimoire. Nothing more.”

He was lying.

The whispers in my mind swelled in agreement.

“Help?” I scoffed, incredulity bubbling to the surface. “How the fuck do you think I could ever accept your help?” My fists tightened further, and my nails dug into my palms, grounding me against the dizzying allure of his words. “You’re just like Lucian—manipulative and deceitful.”

He stepped back slightly and an expression of mock disappointment crossed his sharp features. “That’s not fair, Avril. I’m not your captor. I’m offering you a chance to break free from my father’s grip.” His eyes sparkled with a dark amusement, as if he were savoring my uncertainty— feeding on it.

“Freedom comes at a price,” I replied sharply. “Doesn’t it? Everything has a price in this house—”

His laughter swirled around me and I staggered just a little.

It would be so easy to agree.

I was so tired.

So… tired.

“Leave,” I hissed, my voice trembling despite the sharpness of my command. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“Do you truly want me to go?” he asked as he tilted his head, genuinely amused. “Or are you afraid of what I can offer you?”

“Get out!” I shouted, but even as the words left my mouth, doubt crept in.

What if I was wrong? What if there was a way out—an escape—from the chains that bound me to Withermarsh?

“Think about it, Avril,” Titus said softly. His voice was a velvet caress that wrapped around me like tendrils of smoke. “What will you choose? Do you want to be a sorcerer’s plaything? Or will you rise up and claim your destiny—”

I sucked in a breath and his eyebrow rose slightly.

Shit.

“Did you even know that you had one to claim?”

He lingered, his gaze locked on mine.

I felt torn between the darkness that beckoned and the light I desperately clung to, but I could feel the precipice beneath me shifting.

I had wondered how long it would take for my stepbrothers to descend… Bastian had been their scout, and I had given in far too easily.

Now I was weak—and desperate.

My mind raced with thoughts that clawed at me—memories of their betrayal, the lingering echoes of Lucian’s voice—my mother’s dead eyes...

But how could I trust the men who had reveled in my pain?

“Do you really think I would betray you again?” Titus purred, his dark eyes glinted with amusement as if he could read my thoughts. “You’re smarter than that, Avril. Do you know what’s at stake here?”

“Why should I believe anything you say?” I shot back, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You’ve made your intentions clear time and time again. You thrive on suffering. Especially mine.”

“Haven’t you dreamed of a life where Lucian’s shadow no longer looms over you— Where you’re free to go where you please and do as you like?”

His words wrapped around me, full of seductive promise.

I had dreamed of that freedom.

I had dreamed of the chains of Lucian’s control snapping one by one, and the weight of his thinly veiled lust lifted from my shoulders. A world where I could breathe, unfettered, pursued only by my own desires rather than someone else’s cruel whims. But was that freedom truly attainable, or was it just another illusion?

“It’s not real,” I hissed. Fear crept up my spine, impossible to shrug away. “What happens when I reach for that freedom only to find out that your promises are nothing more than smoke? Lucian would kill me—” Fear cut off my words and tightened my throat.

“Ah, but this isn’t just any offer,” he countered. His tone lowered and turned conspiratorial. “This is power —the very magic contained within the Bloodstone Grimoire. With it, you can become something more .”

My gaze flickered involuntarily toward the grimoire, and its leather cover gleamed ominously in the low light, taunting me. It radiated an unsettling energy, whispering promises of dark secrets and untold strength. Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine and ignited something deep within me that begged to be unleashed.

“Every choice has consequences, doesn’t it?” I said and forced myself to meet his gaze, even though my insides churned. “You’ve betrayed me before. What makes this time different?”

“Trust?” His lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent a jolt of dread through me. “Trust is overrated, don’t you think? It’s desire that truly binds us. Your desire for liberation, your hunger for power—it aligns perfectly with my own goals.”

With every word he spoke, the line between temptation and treachery blurred further.

“I— I don’t know—”

He tilted his head slightly and his gaze pierced through me. “Why do you hesitate? The potential is within your grasp, Avril. You simply need to seize it… I know you’re afraid that you’re not strong enough. Let me help you.”

“What’s in it for you?” I demanded.

“Power,” he replied. “The grimoire can unlock a potential within you that’s been dormant for far too long. This is a chance to rise above the ashes of your circumstances. You’d be foolish not to consider it.”

I wasn’t foolish—but I was desperate.

Titus studied me with an intensity that made my stomach churn. “I won’t force you, sister. But I won’t wait forever. Every moment wasted is a moment you’ve lost to Lucian’s plans. Whatever they might be.”

The dark gleam in Titus’ eyes intensified. “Besides”—he gestured toward the grimoire, and the black stones shone menacingly—"what do you have to lose?"

My pulse quickened as I followed his gesture to look at the grimoire. Its whispers were loud in my ears, and I had felt the ancient magic thrumming beneath my fingertips, promising untold power and a chance to reshape my destiny.

“Perhaps you should consider this: while you hesitate, Lucian plots.Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to take hold of your own fate?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Get out, Titus.”

He shrugged. “As you wish, but the choice lies with you. Hunt or be hunted. It all hinges on that book.” He took a step closer, and I fought the urge to recoil as his icy fingers traced along my jaw. His presence was overwhelming, dark and magnetic, but I couldn’t let him draw me in. Not again.

“Choose carefully, little sister,” Titus murmured darkly. “But don’t take too long… Your time is running out.”

With those words, he pivoted and strode toward the door.

He didn’t look back as he crossed the threshold and left me alone in the oppressive stillness of my chamber.

My heart raced as I struggled to control my breathing and the grimoire’s whispers grew louder in my mind, coaxing me back to the vanity.

As I sank down into the chair and plucked the blackened silver dagger from the grimoire’s spine, I knew Titus was right—

If I wanted to survive this place, I had to make a choice.