Page 18 of Cursed (Wicked Heirs #2)

I stood at the window, my arms wrapped around my torso, as I waited for the clock to strike midnight.

The moon was high, and its cold light pierced through the clouds that streaked across the sky and lit the estate’s gardens with a strange light.

Judgemental light.

The grimoire’s whispers were quieter—but not silent. Titus’ power had sated them, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before they clamored for more.

Shadows danced along the walls, but they didn’t frighten me anymore.

Nothing did.

Except Bastian.

He had been the last master of the grimoire—and its magic had left an indelible impression on him. He was Lucian’s protégé… or, at least, that had been his aim.

As Valen and Titus’ magic swirled through me, I saw snatches of their past—but nothing was clear.

Each breath I drew was heavy with dread—and a darkness slithered beneath my skin.

A smile curved over my lips.

Bastian was right about one thing.

Tonight, everything would change.

I glanced over my shoulder toward the edge of my bed, where the dagger lay concealed beneath the damask coverlet. It was as eager as I for the ritual that awaited. I could almost taste the power it promised—sharp and captivating.

The filmy silk robe I wore clung to my body, luxurious and sensual.

There was no need for pretence with Bastian.

I knew what he wanted—and there would be no need to disguise my own lust, either.

I’d been thinking about Bastian’s touch for far too long, and our previous interlude had only awakened what I had hoped to bury.

With the other two, I’d had to be careful… But I had almost reached my goal, and there was no need to shy away from it now.

Bastian was unpredictable. But only in some ways.

I sensed his approach before his hand touched the door.

His knock wasn’t tentative, and he didn’t wait for me to open the door.

It creaked open and Bastian stepped inside.

A vague gesture with his hand closed the door and locked it and I turned toward him.

He moved with a fluid grace, and each step was deliberate and confident, like a predator prowling the perimeter of its territory. His unruly blond hair framed his face, and the shadows accentuated the sharp angles of his jaw—the hunger that glinted in his pale eyes instantly overpowered his angelic guise. He thrived on chaos, and there was malice in his gaze as well as mischief.

“Did you miss me?” he asked in a teasing tone that sent a shiver racing down my spine. I forced a soft smile onto my face.

“I was worried you might not come.”

He shrugged and began to unbutton his shirt. “How could I resist?” he replied.

I walked toward him slowly. His presence was warm and inviting against the chill of the room.

The gravity of his charm pulled me in and wrapped around me like a serpent coiling tighter, threatening to squeeze the breath from my lungs.

“You didn’t waste any time,” he said as his eyes raked over my body.

The robe was almost transparent, and Bastian’s lust was just as naked as I was.

“No need to delay,” I replied. “You can have what you want—”

“And then you’ll get what you want,” Bastian chuckled.

Yes, I will.

I forced my gaze to remain steady, even as the whispers in my mind grew.

Bastian shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it to the floor before he unbuckled his belt.

“Get on the bed.”

A command, not a suggestion.

I untied the belt of the robe with fingers that shook more than I wanted to and the delicate material slid down my shoulders onto the floor as I stepped away from it.

Uncertain, I leaned against the edge of the bed, conscious of where I had hidden the dagger.

It had to stay within reach.

Whatever Bastian had planned, I was going to have to keep my wits about me so I could take advantage of the situation when the time came.

Bastian kept his eyes on me as he pulled his leather belt through his hands. “Not like that,” he said. “Hands and knees— Ass to me.”

Fear coursed through me as my eyes drifted down to the belt he flexed between his hands.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Don’t you think you deserve some punishment for making me wait so long to have you?” he asked.

The question was delivered in such an innocent tone that if the situation were any different, I would have laughed.

But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t.

“I—”

“I know, sister,” he said as he sauntered toward the bed. “No one has ever punished you like this before.” Perhaps never at all.” He paused and reached out to trail his fingertips down my shoulder. “The Sages never punished you at the Academy, did they?”

I shook my head. “N— No.”

“Of course not. You were their little pet, weren’t you? A pet with pale magic that they took pity on.”

Anger boiled in my chest, and the magic I’d stolen from his brothers surged forward, but I gripped the coverlet tightly to keep myself under control. “No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I just wasn’t an asshole.”

Bastian laughed, but the sound was dark and didn’t echo. “I definitely was,” he said wryly and then he pushed at my shoulder with the folded leather belt. “Turn over. On your hands and knees like a good little witch.”

I took a breath and then did as I was told.

As I braced my forearms on the bed, Bastian took a shuddering breath and I was sure he’d hoped I hadn’t heard it.

He wanted me just as badly as his brothers, and that was what I needed—his distraction.

If this humiliation was the price of the final stage of my quest, then so be it.

I flinched as he laid his belt down on the bed beside me.

A promise and a threat.

Bastian’s fingertips touched the smooth curve of my ass and I sucked in a quick breath at the gentleness of his touch. How long would it last?

“Gods— you are just… exquisite,” he breathed.

His palm was cold against my skin, but his touch made something inside me twist.

I wanted him, too.

He kneaded my ass, squeezing tight, and I let out a little gasp that made him chuckle as his hand moved lower.

His thumb slid along my slit and teased across my entrance as he spread my tender flesh and then dipped one finger inside.

I bit down on my lip and tried not to push back against him.

“You are eager,” he murmured.

Damn him.

“Virginal little witch,” he continued as he pushed another finger inside. “We broke you of that, didn’t we?”

I swallowed a moan.

I was wet…

And yes… I was eager.

Smug bastard.

His fingers continued their sinful motions while I forced myself to stay still.

But the moment I relaxed, he pulled his fingers out, and spanked me twice, quickly, one sharp smack on each ass cheek. Before I had a chance to process the shock, he buried his fingers in my pussy again.

I let out a gasp. My ass was hot, and I tensed as he pulled his fingers out of my wetness to prepare myself for another strike. Instead, this time, his fingers sought my clit and flicked at it lightly. I pushed against his hand, trying to get a firmer touch, but he was lightning quick, and slapped my ass four times.

Two strikes on each cheek.

I was breathing heavily as his fingers plunged back inside me.

“That’s it, Avril,” he said in a voice that dripped with lust. “You’ve been playing with things that are beyond you— things you don’t understand. But I’m going to teach you. Will you take more for me?”

My mind could do little else but process the sensations that ripped through my body. More? I wanted that. “Yes...”

My voice was a throaty gasp, and my legs shook, but I didn’t want to move.

Bastian started again, landing several strikes on one side of my ass before moving to the other. The heat builds with staggering intensity and bursts through me, intensifying my arousal. My swollen, shamed pussy finally received its reward as he finger-fucked me until I panted and moaned.

His belt was on the bed beside me.

Gods.

His hand left my spine and in my line of vision, the belt slithered along the bed.

It was only seconds before I yelped at the first strike, mostly from surprise. But the sting rapidly became a spreading heat.

A different kind of heat.

My breath hissed through my teeth as I processed the sensation, and then the belt came down on my ass a second time. The strike was no harder, and no softer than the first, but now my ass was on fire.

Two more came in quick succession, short and sharp.

They stung.

I cried out with a long wail I scarcely recognized.

My ass was alive with blazing heat.

Pain and pleasure.

My pussy throbbed and wetness coated my inner thighs.

I fell forward and pressed my face against the coverlet so he couldn’t see the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

Bastard.

I hated how much I loved it.

The belt hit the hardwood floor, and the hand that swung it slid between my thighs, and his fingers were gentle against my slit.

“So wet,” he murmured.

He pressed against me and his body absorbed the heat that radiated off my ass.

His cock throbbed between my ass cheeks and I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to fill my pussy and fuck me until I couldn’t breathe.

Bastian’s hands were on my hips, firm but gentle. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” I choked out.

“Ask for it, sister.”

I swallowed hard and rose up just enough to look at him over my shoulder. His icy pale eyes were fixed on me. “Fuck me hard, Bastian, please…”

His grin should have frightened me, but it only made my pussy clench.

Bastian’s hands tightened on my hips as he rolled me over onto my back.

He gripped my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the bed and I moaned as his cock, hard and smooth, rubbed against my slick pussy. I gripped the coverlet as he pressed my legs down against my chest and teased my entrance with the head of his cock.

“Please,” I gasped, and then let out a gasp as he pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock into me, and then withdrew. “Asshole.”

He chuckled. “Now, now…”

He lifted his hand off one thigh and pressed his fingers against my throbbing pussy. I moaned with abandon as he rubbed hard at my swollen clit and then coated his fingers in my slick wetness.

My eyes widened as his long fingers teased against my asshole, and then the head of his cock pressed there, a constant, steady pressure.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmured as he tilted his hips forward and I let out a breath as the thick head slipped past the tight ring of muscle. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Relax— I know you want this, too.”

I did. Desperately.

Slowly, steadily, Bastian’s cock slid into my ass. The burning sensation that made my breath catch slowly eased into pleasure as he worked his fingers over my clit in slow circles until I moaned and gripped the coverlet. My skin prickled, and I opened my eyes just enough to see the dark smoke of Bastian’s magic coil up my body—slithering over my heated skin like a serpent.

It teased over my nipples and wound around my throat, tightening just enough to raise my pulse as I struggled to take a full breath.

Bastian’s fingers were in my cunt now, sliding with a slow rhythm that matched the movement of his hips as he fucked my ass with precise strokes.

Slow.

Gentle.

Maddeningly erotic.

His head fell back as he lost himself in the sensation, and I struggled to keep my climax at bay. The magic I’d stolen roiled inside me, clamoring to escape, and the whispers of the grimoire buzzed in my mind.

Don’t let him take control—

But I wanted to give in. It felt so good to give in.

With a groan, I reached down and pushed his hand away from my pussy and gritted my teeth at the sudden loss of the exquisite rhythm he had set.

Bastian’s eyes widened as he looked down at me. “What—”

“Harder,” I said through gritted teeth. “Make me cum with your cock in my ass—”

“Avril,” he groaned, as I wrapped my legs around his hips. I let him set the pace, slow at first, and then building as he slid his cock into me… But as his focus wavered, I murmured the first words of the spell. The ones that would bind him.

As soon as the words left my lips, I felt the tension shift. I could sense his amusement fading as I took control and my legs tightened and held him in place.

My body burned with urgency, and every inch of me craved more, but I had to complete the ritual.

Bastian’s eyes widened as I shifted slightly and pulled the dagger from the folds of the coverlet.

“Stop!” he hissed, and a glimmer of panic flashed across his face as I rose off the bed and pulled him closer. A breathless groan escaped my lips as his cock filled my ass completely.

My body shuddered as I drew the dagger across my palm and coated the blade in my blood. Frozen in place, Bastian’s eyes followed the dagger’s movements as I brought it up against his naked chest.

“I sever your flame. I claim your light.”

The blade pressed against his ribs and the voices in my mind howled in victory as his blood welled up against it.

“Through blood and bone, your gift is mine,” I said as I looked up into his eyes. “I drink your power…” I paused and gritted my teeth, focusing on the spell and not on the burning stretch of his cock in my ass.

“…one drop at a time.”

I pressed my palm against the wound and cried out as heat lanced through me. My back arched and my body shuddered, and Bastian groaned as I squeezed his cock in a hundred different ways.

The moment the magic surged through me, it was as if I had taken a breath after drowning. Bastian’s eyes widened in disbelief as my thighs tightened around his hips and anchored him in place.

“Avril—” he gasped, but his voice broke off into a choked whisper as the dark pleasure of the spell enveloped him.

I slid my other hand between my legs and rubbed my clit with purposeful strokes. My pussy was so empty—my ass full of his cock—it was too much to bear. I pushed two fingers into my pussy and my orgasm crashed over my senses and I cried out as my body convulsed around Bastian’s cock and my slick flesh clutched at my fingers.

Bastian’s answering groan filled my ears as his cock twitched deep inside my ass and the hot spurts of his cum filled me.

“Yes—” I moaned as I pulled my hand away from the wound on his ribs and fell back onto the bed.

“Bound now to me, this strength remains,” I gasped. “Yours no longer, the magic wanes.”

Mine. It was mine.

Bastian’s eyes rolled back, and he fell forward onto me and pinned me to the mattress.

A triumphant giggle clawed at my throat.

I’d done it.

I’d really done it.

My body thrummed with the aftermath of my release, and with the new magic that rippled through my veins.

But I couldn’t lie here forever…

I disentangled myself from Bastian, slid off the bed, and rushed to the bathroom.

There was no way to know how long he would remain unconscious.

I’d abandoned Titus and Valen to the thrall of the spell, so I didn’t know how long its effects would last, but Bastian was different. He was stronger than his brothers—darker. I had to hurry.

I showered the traces of our encounter from my body and grimaced at the lingering pain that Bastian had inflicted on me with his belt.

He’d pay for that.

I smiled. Maybe he already had.

As I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, I realized that there was something different—the whispers of the grimoire were… smaller. Quieter. Not gone… not entirely… but they were hushed. Sated.

For now.

I dropped my towel onto the floor and walked back into the bedroom.

Bastian lay on the bed where I’d left him. The angelic lines of his face, usually so captivating, had twisted under the weight of my spell, and the room’s shadows spread across his skin like ink spilling on parchment. It was beautiful and grotesque, and I was the architect of it all.

I had to get him out of the room.

I grabbed my robe from the floor and swept it over my shoulders before I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him.

Magic tingled at my fingertips, and I reached out tentatively to drag them along Bastian’s leanly muscled shoulder.

He mumbled something and stirred. The magic I’d taken from him, only a small piece of it, was dark and potent, and the thrill of it swirling through my veins was heady and dangerous.

“Bastian,” I murmured. “It’s time to wake up.” His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned as I rolled him over onto his back. His jeans were around his ankles and it was easier to dress him while his limbs were slack. His belt was on the floor, and I threaded it through the belt loops with steady hands and buckled it with more force than was necessary.

My ass cheeks still throbbed with the memory of his strikes.

After I’d pulled his shirt over his head and tugged it down over his torso, I pushed my hair out of my face and grabbed hold of his arms. “Come on,” I grunted as I pulled him upright.

He stood, and then stumbled, disoriented, and my heart twisted at the sight of him—my captor turned captive. Guilt pressed heavily on my chest, but I pushed it down; there was no room for weakness now.

“What happened?” he slurred. I guided him toward the door, and his steps faltered as he fought to regain his balance.

“Nothing happened,” I replied, and allowed myself to relish the fresh power that thrummed through my veins. “You drank too much wine—”

I gestured vaguely with my hand, testing my new power, and my bedroom door swung open.

Victory surged through me, and I shifted my grip on Bastian to push him out the door.

“You should go to bed,” I said sweetly. “We’ll talk tomorrow— Maybe we’ll try again.”

He nodded and muttered something I couldn’t hear, and I watched him grip the railing with desperate fingers. I half expected him to fall forward down the stairs, but he caught his balance and lurched sideways to descend the stairs.

He staggered down the staircase, and I lingered in the doorway until the yawning darkness swallowed his silhouette.

Finally, he disappeared, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the tension left my shoulders.

Only then did I close the door and relished the way the soft click of the lock reverberated in the stillness.

I leaned against it, breathless and reeling.

The room seemed heavier now as the shadows stretched toward me, but something was different.

I was different.

I stepped away from the door and turned to face it.

I could see how damaged the protection sigils were now. That first night, opening the grimoire had torn the protection spells torn to shreds and allowed my stepbrothers’ entry into my sanctuary.

No more.

I raised my hands and uttered the words of the protection spell I’d learned at Messana Academy.

The door shimmered with a violet glow as the sigils fell into place without the need to draw them.

This was what having power felt like—real power.

“There,” I breathed, the words barely escaped my lips as the last sigil appeared on the doorframe. They glowed brighter now and illuminated the shadows that clawed at the edges of the room. It was proof of what I could achieve—what I would achieve—if only I could tap into the full depth of my magic.

As I dropped my hands and paused to admire my handiwork, the glow pulsed gently.

With each flicker of their light, I felt both empowered and repulsed; the paradox gnawed at my insides like a ravenous beast. I was strong enough to use the grimoire and bend it to my will. It had to be enough.

Hunt or be hunted.

Titus’ voice threaded through my thoughts.

But I’m not like them.

A desperate plea.

I couldn’t be like them.

But what had I traded away in exchange for the power that swirled in my veins?

“Nothing,” I muttered as I walked across the room. I swept the blackened silver dagger from the bed and cradled it in my palm as I approached the vanity where the Bloodstone Grimoire lay.

The stones embedded in the dark leather of its cover gleamed in the dim light, beckoning.

The whispers in my mind surged as I set the dagger down beside the grimoire.

I’d done what I had to, and now there was nothing standing in the way of the answers I sought.