Page 19 of Cursed (Wicked Heirs #2)

Blood dripped into the marble tiles as I traced out the sigils I needed to summon my mother’s shade.

The circle around the tub was almost perfect—no breaks, no wavering lines. My hands were steady as I sprinkled the salt and turned the pages of the grimoire.

My blood soaked into the pages and the words and symbols I needed bloomed across the scarred parchment.

A drop of water fell into the tub with a sharp plik , and the sound echoed in the silent chill of the bathroom.

Candles shimmered and flickered at the edge of the tub.

I was ready.

My last attempt at this spell filled me with terror, but this time, I was calm. The sigils were oriented to their cardinal positions, and my vision blurred at the edges as my newfound power surged and flowed through me.

With one hand, I opened the velvet box that held Lucian’s engagement ring and stood over the tub.

Without hesitation, I dropped the ring into the tub and watched it float down to the bottom. It lay against the smooth porcelain and winked dully at me.

This was going to work.

The flickering candles cast wavering reflections across the water’s surface, and steam curled around me, thick and heavy. Romano magic—stolen magic—coursed through my veins. Fresh and raw. It felt alive as it vibrated beneath my skin.

This had to work.

I stretched my hand over the still water and tightened my hand into a fist. Blood dripped in a steady stream and sank below the surface.

I held my breath and then spoke the words to begin the spell.

“By my blood, I call you forth. By my life, I bridge the chasm of death.”

The surface of the water rippled and then changed as my blood spread over it in an oily slick. The ring glinted from the bottom of the tub, taunting me.

I stepped out of the circle and wrapped a bandage around my hand to staunch the bleeding. “By these flames, I illuminate the shadows. Let the lost find their path to this place.”

The candle flames flickered and bent in an unseen wind and the thick scarlet

Water rippled and splashed against the sides of the tub. A tremor—subtle at first—shuddered through the tiles beneath my bare feet and then grew stronger, radiating out from the circle I’d painted in blood on the pale marble.

That was different.

“By my blood , I call you forth,” I repeated firmly. “With my will, I bridge the chasm of death.” I paused to take a breath. “Julia Velez— Come forth!”

The candles flickered violently, and shadows leapt across the walls and distorted into grotesque shapes that writhed in the dim light.

Icy dread settled deep within my bones as the vibration beneath my feet intensified and the whispers in my mind scraped at my courage.

The steam from the bathtub curled and coiled through the air, but it felt more like ice than warmth as it crept along my skin like a lover’s caress turned cruel. I shivered, not just from the chill but from the sensation of something awakening, something ancient stirring beneath the surface of reality.

Voices, soft and insidious, slithered through the air around me, words I couldn’t quite grasp, but that made my heart race with terror.

“Julia Velez,” I breathed, “come forth.” My newfound power straightened my spine and gave me strength, and I reached out with it to draw my mother’s shade forward.

A strange groan filled the air, wretched and haunting, and I fought the urge to run.

The symbols I had drawn, crimson and raw, pulsed with energy—a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.

It was hers.

The rhythm was slow at first. Erratic. Unsteady.

But its strength grew… Slowly. Until the sigils throbbed with a steady pace.

“Mom—”

The water in the tub was still, but as I peered over the edge, I noticed something in the water—

The steam swirled over the tub and it thickened and shimmered as a shape materialized.

A sudden rumble made me bite down on my cheek in surprise and I tasted blood on my tongue.

A splash.

Blood-red water sloshed out of the tub and spilled onto the tiles. The edges of the bloody circle blurred, but my magic held it in place and the shape held. No breaks. No escape.

Good.

I let out a thin scream and then clapped my hand over my mouth as an arm burst through the surface of the water. I recoiled as ice-cold droplets flicked onto my cheek as a pale, water-logged hand with long, sharp red nails gripped the edge.

A second arm shot out and gripped the edge, and the nails scraped against the white porcelain.

Their grip tightened and flexed and a dark shape rose out of the water.

My mother.

Her long black hair clung to her body as she emerged from the bloodied water, and it streamed over her naked flesh in endless rivulets. The sound of dripping water filled my ears and echoed through the room.

Caught between realms, her skin shimmered like glass, and tendrils of steam caressed her wet flesh and wreathed her form. She was beautiful—and terrifying—and I struggled to draw in a full breath as she turned toward me. Scarlet water lapped at her ankles and streamed from her body, and I was mesmerized by this horrific vision.

I’d done it.

She was here.

“Mom—” I croaked.

But it was her eyes that struck me—black and full of rage and bitterness that burned hotter than any flame.

“Romano.”

Her voice was a chilling whisper that sent a jolt of alarm through me.

I stood frozen in place, ensnared in the intensity of her gaze.

This was not what I had expected—this was my nightmare made real—

My stepbrothers’ magic flowed through me, but despite being empowered by this forbidden addition to my own power, I felt my courage weaken under her black-eyed glare.

“You dare take my name from me,” she hissed. “I am the Mistress of Withermarsh—”

She was confused— did she know she was dead? Did she know what had happened?

My heart hammered in my chest as she reached one of her clawed hands toward me. I struggled against the instinct to flee. A part of me screamed to unleash my powers to bind or banish her shade before it lashed out at me. But something kept me rooted in place until her icy fingernails grazed my cheek.

The chill of death seeped into my skin, a bone-deep freeze that made me gasp.

“I need answers,” I choked out. Shadows and steam danced like wild phantoms around her naked form and my hands curled into fists at my sides. Magic thudded under my skin as my nails dug deep into my palms.

The specter laughed—a horrifying sound that shattered any illusion of familiarity between us. Her laughter echoed in the cavernous room and bounced off the cold tiles.

“Answers?” she flung the word back at me. “What answers do you think you deserve?”

“Who did this to you?” I blurted out. “Who—”

A sudden, brutal wave of emotion tore the words from my lips. Julia’s black eyes shone with a devastating intensity, her gaze colder than the fierce winds that howled outside Withermarsh’s tall, stone walls. She was wrath incarnate in this limbo between the living and the dead, and her beauty had been twisted into something unrecognizable and deadly.

“Who?” she mocked, a scornful laugh echoing off the tub’s porcelain walls. “Who would dare ? Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you know who comes to my bed at night?”

I swallowed hard.

She was dead. No one came to her bed now.

My mother’s eyes narrowed as she focused on me. “Maybe it was you — You stole my life so you could steal him away from me—”

Her words seared me, scorching me with their severity. My throat tightened at her contemptuous tone. The room seemed to blur around her as she floated there in the scarlet water, a spectral queen on her bloody throne.

The gusts of cold seemed to intensify as she extended an arm toward me once more. Her thin fingers ended in viciously sharp nails, inches from my face. I could feel the wisps of her power brushing against my skin, buttery soft but tinged with a darkness that made my own magic recoil instinctively. Remnants of the magic that had been ripped from her corpse as she choked on her last breath.

Her power had dimmed— But she was still dangerous.

Julia’s shade sneered down at me. “Don’t deny it,” she hissed. “I can smell Romano magic on you— You’re... stained by it. Is this what you’ve become, daughter ?” The shade’s voice sliced through the heavy air, sharp as glass. “A pathetic little girl, clinging to shadows in a desperate attempt to take my place? So you can be a willing whore kneeling at Lucian’s feet?”

Her words struck like physical blows, and each accusation twisted in my gut. I flinched despite myself, and my mother’s face contorted in triumph.

I swallowed hard and forced myself not to look away from her burning gaze.

“That’s not true,” I managed, but desperation clawed at my throat. “I’m not—”

“Oh, but you are,” the shade breathed. “I can see it in your eyes— You’ve debased yourself with those men… Traded away the only thing that was valuable—”

“Shut up,” I snapped. “You don’t understand— You’re dead .”

“And you stole everything from me,” the shade hissed back. “My life— My power— Everything—”

The room tightened around me and the shadows flickered like restless spirits drawn to her anger. The steam from the bath curled with malicious intent and wrapped around my limbs. I batted them away and took a step back.

The bitter chill sank deeper into my bones, and every shuddering breath I managed to draw into my lungs made me hate her.

“Stop!” I shouted, and desperation unleashed the power inside me that made me stand straighter, my feet firm on the tiles. “I’m not afraid of you!”

But the shade just laughed at my words and her laughter was hollow and cutting. “Oh, daughter . You should be. There is only one punishment for betrayal—”

Fear shot through me. “I didn’t betray you,” I cried. “How can you say that?”

But instead of a reply, she lunged forward, a wraith of rage. Her malevolence and dark intent filled the air. My magic reared up inside me as instinct screamed for me to defend myself.

Time slowed as my mind raced, all thoughts converging on a singular point of focus. I raised my hands and felt the pulse of my magic thrumming beneath my skin. “By blood and will , your wrath I chain— I bind you!” My voice rang out in the room.

A shimmering halo of pale violet light enveloped me, a barrier woven from the essence of my own magic that coalesced into a binding spell. The warmth surged forth, pushing against the coldness of her wrath, but I felt it—her anger was fierce and untamed and pushed back against the spell.

I had almost ignored the words scribbled beside the summoning spell—but I was glad I hadn’t.

“Foolish child!” she screeched. She lunged closer and her figure distorted, swirling in a chaotic dance of rage. “Pale spark— You’ve always been a disappointment! Do you think your weak spells can hold me?”

My magic surged forth, and the pale violet light thinned into a cord that was firm and warm against my palm. A whip.

Without hesitation, I drew my arm back and lashed out at her.

The spectral whip snapped out, and its light sliced through the dense steam and shadows around us. The crack of power echoed around the room, rippled the bloody bathwater, and sent a shudder down my spine. But even as I watched the violet light encircle my mother’s shade, I could feel the strain against my control—

Her form writhed within the grip of my magic and twisted like smoke as she let out a venomous curse.

“Betrayer,” she hissed. Pain or fury distorted her voice—I couldn’t tell which.

With another snarl, she twisted again, and I felt her power surge back at me. “Whore!”

My body protested and my bare feet slid on the marble tiles as the backlash of energy jolted my system. I braced myself, teeth gritted against the rising bile in my throat. My magic shivered on the edge of snapping, but I couldn’t let her break free—I wouldn’t.

There was one thing I was certain of: my mother was gone.

This shade—this monster—wasn’t her.

With an effort that scorched every nerve in my body, I drew on every ounce of power within me and tightened the bindings once more. “Obey my command,” I gasped. “I bind you to my will.” The violet light flared brighter for a moment before hardening into steely bands of iridescent magic that ensnared her wrathful form.

The spirit’s screech tore through the room as my will was forced down upon her. The sound was like grinding glass against stone, and I could do nothing but grit my teeth and cling to my control, pushing back against her fury with every shred of power within me.

“Obey,” I commanded again, pouring all my concentration into reinforcing the spell. Sweat ran down my face and stung my eyes, but I ignored it.

Her form distorted and writhed, impossibly slender, against the cruel bands of light that held her captive. A ghastly wail tore from her dark lips, wild and feral, a lament unlike anything I’d ever heard. The walls of the manor groaned under the weight of her torment, and for a brief moment, I almost felt pity.

Almost.

“Tell me what you remember about that night—” I pressed. “I saw— I saw you—” Desperation clawed at my throat. “Tell me who stole your magic— Magic that should be mine .”

She seemed to shrink slightly under my gaze, but her coal-black eyes held an eerie glow as she glared back at me.

“Betrayal,” she hissed. “This house is full of betrayal…”

She didn’t know… she didn’t know who had killed her.

The realization should have stopped me, but anger twisted in my chest. She had done nothing to deserve my pity. She had been the cause of all of this. She had brought me to this place. She had allowed Lucian—

All of my misery and pain—it was all her fault.

“You betrayed my father,” I snarled. “Why should your death be any different?”

For a moment, the rage in her eyes flickered, replaced by something colder—a disdain that wrapped around her like a cloak. “Dario? That pathetic traitor?” Her laugh was harsh and bitter. “The grimoire lied to him— Just as it’s lying to you.”

“Why did you do it?” I demanded. “Why did you betray your own husband?”

I had to understand. I had to know.

A thin stream of dark liquid dripped from the corner of the shade’s mouth and joined the water that streamed down her naked body. “Weak,” she said. “Pathetic.” She enunciated every syllable with a wet precision that made my skin crawl. But it was her smile that froze me in place. Blackened teeth, stained by the gore that dripped from her mouth. “You should know all about weakness, dear daughter.”

I fought back tears, refusing to let them fall. “I’m not weak! I called you here. Me! You owe me answers! You owe me the truth!”

“Answers?” The shade’s mouth twisted and her fingers curled as she strained against the bonds of violet light that held her. “All you’ll find is disappointment. Your father’s weakness cost me everything… Lucian would have killed me. I would have done anything to spare my own life.” Her head tilted at a strange angle as she looked at me. “You’re just like him… And now here you are. Who gave you that ring, Avril?” I flinched and her lip curled. “A whore at Lucian’s side. The next Mistress of Withermarsh… Just as I’d feared.”

I forced myself to meet her gaze, determined to stand my ground. “I want the truth! You owe me that much!”

“Truth?” she hissed. “There is no truth for the likes of you. There is only the dark fate that awaits those who dare challenge the powerful. And you—you will never escape the shadow of your father’s treachery.”

“Shut up!” I shouted. My voice cracked as the weight of her disdain choked me. I could feel the magic within me waver, and I pulled my focus back to the bands of light that trapped her.

If I couldn’t hold her, I would lose everything—not just the answers, but the very essence of who I was becoming.

“Tell me!” I pleaded. “What did Lucian do? What really happened to you?”

“Lucian?” she sneered and her eyes flashed with a cruel delight. “He played the fool for your father’s sake, just as he plays you for his own amusement. He saw Dario’s lust for power and his foolish belief that the grimoire could be bent to his will. Lucian let the grimoire take him—”

I wasn’t going to get any answers from her—she was trapped in the past; and darkness had twisted every memory. “That’s a lie!”

I knew better than to trust the words of this venomous shade, but they echoed eerily with my own fears.

“Oh?” The shade’s laugh sent a shudder through me and its mirthless resonance burrowed into my marrow. “You believe that you’re special? That you’re different from your father?” Her gaze flicked over me scornfully. “I can smell them on you—tainting you. Whore .”

“No!” I protested as I summoned up every ounce of defiance I had left. “I can control the magic. I’m stronger than my father ever was! Stronger than you .”

“Stolen power,” the shade hissed. “See what good it does you—”

And then it happened. In the blink of an eye, the very essence of my magic wavered and faltered. I felt it—the moment when she found a weak spot in my spell. Her form surged forward and broke free from the ethereal restraints I had placed upon her.

Shadows coiled and twisted around her, dark tendrils that reached for me, hungry for revenge.

“NO!” I gasped as panic surged through my veins, electrifying and paralyzing all at once.

I was losing control.

“You were never meant to wield this power, child,” she taunted me. “It belongs to those who embrace the darkness!”

Desperation clawed at my insides, and my mind raced for a solution. I needed to reclaim my magic and banish her before she unleashed her fury upon me.

I had to act.

My fingers trembled as I steadied my breath and gathered the remnants of my magic.

I was stronger.

I was stronger.

“ You obey me !” My shout was answered by the shade’s enraged shriek as it rose from the bathtub. Dark liquid poured from her nose, mouth, and eyes, and streamed down her body, and painted her smooth, luminous skin with inky blackness.

“By iron and salt, by shadow and flame, I bind your fury. I seal your name!”

I called upon the words that danced at the edge of my consciousness, an incantation I barely understood. The room seemed to shudder as I uttered them.

The water in the bathtub roiled and boiled over with furious energy. It hissed as it splashed onto the cold tiles and I recoiled as the scalding droplets singed my skin, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off the shade.

She twisted and writhed as dark smoke curled around her body like hungry vines, and her scream pierced my eardrums—filled with pain and wrath that rattled my bones.

The sound echoed and swelled in the opulent bathroom until it wrapped around me like a choking fog.

“Leave this realm! I banish you!” The finality in my tone surprised even me, and I staggered under the pressure of the command.

With one last surge of will, I unleashed the spell. Magic coalesced and brightened the dim space as it illuminated every corner until the steam turned into a swirling violet tempest. I felt the rush of raw energy coursing through me before it spiraled outward and sought the shade like a beast released from its cage.

“NO!” it screamed in agony as tendrils of darkness were ripped away from its form.

The bathroom erupted into chaos—shadows flickered violently against the walls as the water in the bathtub exploded upward. I staggered back and lifted my arms to cover my face, instinctively shielding myself from the backlash.

The shade’s anguished scream thundered in my ears, and then it was gone.

Red-tinged water lapped gently at the sides of the tub, but the circle I’d painted on the tiles in my own blood was still whole.

A lingering chill hung in the air and silence pressed down on me until I gasped for breath.

The candles flickered, and the glow of the sigils I’d traced on the tiles faded away as the spell ebbed.

“Rest now, shade, and return to the abyss,” I murmured. “Your pain is witnessed; your tale, not dismissed.”

I stood there for a moment, breathless. The echo of the shade’s anger vibrated in my ears. But then the reality of what I had done crashed over me like a tidal wave, dragging me under.

My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the unforgiving floor. The tiles dug into my skin, cold and unyielding, but they grounded me in a way I desperately needed. Tears streamed down my face, hot and bitter, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing aloud.

I had sought answers, a connection—a piece of her— And instead…

Failure.

I thought I could find solace in understanding. But after all of that pain and exertion… I understood nothing.

Sorrow took hold of me, and I didn’t have the strength to fight it. Tears didn’t solve anything—but I had nothing left.

I fell to the tiles and let them come.