Page 26 of Cursed (Wicked Heirs #2)

I lay on my bed and stared up at the dark damask canopy stretched above it.

The grimoire’s whispers were quieter now, but still unavoidably sharp as their claws pierced through the veil of my thoughts and sought to take control once more.

Would I ever be free of them?

I could barely remember what my life had been like before I had opened the grimoire.

Before I had spilled my blood in a desperate search for power—

No.

Not power.

Freedom.

Choice.

The shadows wrapped around me like a shroud and the flicker of the candles I’d lit offered no comfort—pale comfort.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the beat of my heart—steady—strong—dependable.

Weak.

Disappointment.

Pale magic for a pale girl.

I grimaced as the dark whispers crept through…

A soft knock broke the heavy silence, and I sat up as the door opened and revealed one of Withermarsh’s stone-faced servants.

How were they able to breach those sigils?

I couldn’t understand it—but I couldn’t ask, either.

The woman’s face was unreadable. “Miss Velez, you have been summoned to Master Lucian’s study,” she said.

My heart plummeted, and dread curled in my stomach like a serpent.

Lucian.

Did he know?

“Know what?” The whispers hissed.

Did he know that I’d been in the bowels of the mansion plotting to overthrow him?

The whispers buzzed in my mind. “Was that what had happened? Plotting?”

No… it wasn’t. Titus and his brothers had rejected me.

There was no mistaking that.

But the thought of facing Lucian made my skin crawl.

I quickly pulled down my sleeves to conceal the raw evidence of my dabbling with the grimoire—the scars that marred my wrists and arms.

“Tell him I’m not feeling well,” I managed to croak, but the servant’s gaze remained unwavering.

“Master Lucian is waiting,” she said.

She would not be deterred, nor would Lucian.

“I— I’m not dressed properly,” I protested. “He— Will you let me change into something… better?”

“That is not important,” she replied. “You have been summoned.”

The chill of inevitability settled into my bones as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

Each step I took toward the door felt unsteady and the floor seemed to tilt under me, but I tightened my hands into fists and forced myself to keep moving.

The woman turned, a tight smile on her face, and I followed her down the grand staircase and through the winding corridors that led to Lucian’s study.

My heart pounded a frantic rhythm in my chest that matched the chaos that swirled through my mind—what could I say to him? If I lied, he would know.

Panic rippled up my spine and settled over my shoulders.

As we approached the door to Lucian’s study, the flickering red glow from the orb that hovered above his desk flooded from beneath the door and stained the stone floor like blood.

I had seen too much blood.

The shadows on the stone walls of the house twisted and contorted into grotesque shapes, and I hesitated as I fought the urge to flee back into the safety of my room. The whispers of the grimoire writhed inside my mind like snakes.

I couldn’t escape them.

I drew in a deep breath as the heavy wooden door swung open.

As it always did, Lucian’s study enveloped me in its unsettling embrace. The dark wood paneling absorbed the dim candlelight and the red glow of the floating orb bathed the space in eerie light. The scent of aged leather and something metallic hung in the air, a reminder of the dark things that lingered here.

Memories.

Lost souls.

Betrayal.

I took a deep breath and the damp air clung to my skin as I stepped inside. The door creaked ominously behind me as it closed and shut out the world beyond.

“Ah, Avril,” Lucian’s voice cut through the stillness, smooth and velvety, but still with an undercurrent of predation that made my heart race. His gaze pierced through me, cold and assessing, narrowing with suspicion as if he were sizing up prey rather than a stepdaughter.

Or a bride to be.

The pulsating red light of the orb danced in his pale eyes and illuminated their glint with a sinister spark.

“Come closer.” The command slithered through the air and wrapped around me like a chain. My feet moved before my mind could protest, drawn toward him as if ensnared by his dark magic.

“You’ve been busy,” he said. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile that held no warmth—a predator savoring the moment before the kill. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny as it roamed over me, searching for cracks in my composure. My hands trembled at my sides, every nerve ending screaming for me to hide the scars, to shield the evidence of my reckless dabbling in dark arts.

“Tell me,” he purred as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, “what have you learned?”

I forced myself to meet his gaze and battled the rising tide of fear that threatened to drown me. His presence was terrifying, and I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his. With every heartbeat, I fought against the urge to shrink away and show him the weakness that gnawed desperately at my insides.

“Nothing... nothing much,” I stammered, forcing the words through clenched teeth, feeling the heat of his stare intensify. “Just trying to understand more about the grimoire. There’s so much I don’t understand…”

“But you’ve opened it,” he pressed.

My finger tightened on the edge of my sleeves, drawing them tight over my hands.

“I— Yes,” I said after a moment. “I’m trying—”

“Trying?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and an amused glimmer flashed across his features. “A dangerous endeavor, especially for someone so inexperienced. Someone with such… pale magic.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as desert sand. “It’s just... I thought it might help. No harm ever came from… reading a book.”

“Especially one you cannot understand… On the contrary, my dear. It’s even more dangerous than you could ever imagine. This is not just any book.” He allowed his words to linger in the air. Dark and ominous. “Perhaps you’re drawn to its darkness? Fascinated by power that you cannot touch—”

I had to remind myself to breathe, but each inhale tasted like ashy dread.

Lucian’s gaze bored into me, unyielding, dissecting each flicker of emotion that crossed my face.

Fuck.

“Come closer,” he commanded.

I obeyed, and the grimoire’s whispers grew louder—so loud they were shouting. Urging me to flee. Demanding that I fight—that I reach out and wrap my magic around his throat and—

No. Stop it. Shut up!

Lucian leaned closer and his pale eyes glinted with a hunger that sent a shiver racing down my spine. Without warning, he lunged forward, and his fingers curled around my left wrist like an iron shackle. I let out a choked cry as he yanked me toward him.

My hips struck the edge of his heavy wooden desk and I let out a moan as he pulled up the long sleeve of my sweater to bare the skin beneath—

The cuts on my arm and the side of my hand were plainly visible.

Some healed. Some fresh.

One very fresh.

“Tell me, Avril,” he murmured. His voice was low and intimate, yet filled with an unsettling authority. The room faded into a blur; all I could focus on was his grip on my wrist—tight, unyielding. Suffocating. My heart thudded erratically. Each beat screamed at me to pull away and escape from the scrutiny of those cold, calculating eyes.

But I remained frozen in place as though time itself had stopped.

“How na?ve you must be...” he whispered. His gaze roved over the livid marks that criss-crossed my wrists— A twisted smile spread across his lips, and the soft red glow of the orb intensified and illuminated the sharp angles of his face. “Look at these little etchings. They tell quite the tale. Seems like a lot of effort for… trying. “

My throat was tight.

I wanted nothing more than to snatch my hand away and hide it from his view, but the weight of his stare anchored me in place. There was no denying the truth of what he saw—the evidence of my desperate attempts to wield a darkness I barely understood.

“Lucian, I—” I began, my voice wavering like a flame in a gusty wind, but he silenced me with a mere flick of his wrist.

“Ah, spare me your excuses.” His eyes gleamed with cruel delight, as if he derived pleasure from my discomfort. “You’ve already spilled enough of it, haven’t you? Blood for knowledge. It is a tempting trade, though one I would never recommend for someone so... innocent.”

He released his grip on my wrist, but the chill of his touch lingered like a phantom, leaving me acutely aware of the scars he had just exposed.

I snatched my arm back against my chest and fumbled to pull my sleeve down to hide the marks.

“You should be more cautious, Avril,” he murmured. “But I suppose I should not scold you too harshly—” His focus turned to the floating orb, and he reached out to caress it gently. The orb pulsed and the smoke within it churned sensually at the touch of his long fingers.

I swallowed hard and took a step back.

Just a small one.

And then another.

“Curiosity,” Lucian mused, his finger twirled the orb in slow circles, creating a spiraling galaxy of smoke within. “It’s a potent drug, and dangerous for someone of your... disposition.”

His gaze flickered back to me. It wasn’t a kind gaze, but neither was it filled with cruelty. It was evaluating and contained an icy calculation that sent tendrils of dread through my mind. He released the orb which hovered in place, pulses sending ripples dancing through the smoke-filled sphere.

“I trust you’ve been careful.” His words were doused in sarcasm as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “I’d hate to see you consumed by your thirst for… knowledge.”

His mocking tone gave rise to an infuriated heat that surged through my veins. I bristled under his condescension while keeping my gaze steady on him. Even as fear gnawed at me, I couldn’t let him see that weakness.

But maybe that was what he wanted.

My submission.

“You’re right,” I forced out. “I— I’ve been… foolish.”

His lips curved in response, a quirk that was both chilling and cruel. “Indeed. But what’s done is done.” He leaned forward once more. “What did the grimoire reveal to you?”

I shook my head, but the room seemed to shrink around us as I met his gaze once more.

“I— nothing… there was nothing. I tried— but I failed.” I let my voice trail away as I looked down at my feet. “I wasn’t strong enough.”

Would he see through my lies?

“Your reckless curiosity reminds me of your father,” he said. I looked up at those words. Although his voice was smooth and casual, an underlying menace filled it, and made my blood run cold. “He, too, thirsted for knowledge beyond his grasp... beyond his comprehension.” He allowed his words to linger in the air for a moment before adding, “And we both know how that ended.”

I couldn’t stop myself from flinching at his words—that was what he wanted.

He wanted to hurt me. To see me cower.

“I— I don’t want to be like my father,” I choked out.

“That gives me comfort, Avril,” Lucian said, and I dared to glance up at him. There was a peculiar gleam in his pale eyes, a cruel mockery of comfort. It chilled me to my very core and sent ice through my veins. “You’re not half the sorcerer your father was, and the grimoire took him—consumed him.”

His words struck me like an arrow through the heart. I reeled back as though physically struck, and the force of his barbed insult made me stumble.

Each beat of my heart was a rigid reminder of my inadequacy.

“I know,” I croaked out. My voice sounded weak and pitiful, even to my own ears. But what else could I say?

Lucian sighed and looked at me as though I were an especially disappointing puzzle he’d solved far too quickly.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “So eager to play with fire— but you are too flammable, my dear.”

He stood abruptly and loomed over me like a towering specter, his moonlit hair cascaded elegantly around his sharp features. The crimson light from the orb glowed ominously across one side of his face and defined every cold and unyielding line.

Beneath that ruthless scrutiny, I was insignificant. Small. A tiny bird under the paw of a lion.

He advanced with calculated predation. The air shifted with the oppressive weight of his presence.

“Lucian—” My voice barely escaped my lips, trembling with a mixture of apprehension and defiance. But he silenced me with a casual flick of his wrist, a gesture that was both dismissive and enthralling. The room closed in around us and shadows stretched and twisted toward me.

“Tell me, Avril,” he said, stopping just short of me, his breath brushing against my skin like ice. “What do you truly think of my sons?”

“I— I don’t think about them at all,” I choked out.

His chin tilted slightly. He lifted his hand and my eyes widened as the pale red smoke of his magic twined around his fingers—thick and lazy—before it wound through the air toward me and slid over my shoulder and across my collarbone. “Ah,” he murmured. His eyes closed as though he was able to touch my skin through the tendrils of his magic. “They were cruel to you—”

His question was a surprise and my pulse quickened and beat a frantic rhythm in my ears as I searched for words that wouldn’t betray me.

“I—” I hesitated. I could feel the warmth of my own magic simmering just beneath the surface, yearning to break free… but I couldn’t. He couldn’t know— “I don’t trust them,” I managed.

“Indeed— A wise choice. But, perhaps, an observation that should have come to you sooner—” He leaned closer and the scent of cedar and something darker enveloped me. My breath caught as the smoky tendrils of his power wrapped around my torso and tugged me gently toward him.

The world blurred, and the edges of reality seemed to bend to his will. I could feel the pull, the seductive temptation of his magic as it curled and tightened around me, beckoning me closer. A shiver ran down my spine, igniting a spark within me I didn’t want—

Revulsion and fear coiled together in my chest, and my own power flickered beneath the surface.

His long fingers flexed, and the invisible chains of his magic tightened and dragged me closer still.

Panic clawed at my throat; I fought against the pull, but I was helpless.

I forced myself to hold his icy gaze as I searched for any hint of humanity in their soulless depths. But all I found was a chilling satisfaction—and a pleasure taken in my struggle.

“Come now,” he taunted, as a cruel smile spread across his lips. “You are to be my bride—” He leaned in and the space between us vanished entirely. It was suffocating—the chill of his presence wrapped around me like a vice, closing in until there was no escape.

“Lucian—” I breathed, barely able to form the words as dread twisted in my gut.

The coldness that radiated from him sent a jolt of alarm coursing through my veins and it mingled with the intoxicating allure of being so close to power like his—dangerous, corrupting power. Dark and consuming.

What if I gave in? What if I let him take me?

His magic enveloped me, tendrils pressing and squeezing in a dark caress that promised both pleasure and pain.

“Do not resist,” he said softly—almost tenderly—as if coaxing a flower to bloom in the shadows. “I know that you want this—give in.”

But I sensed the jagged edge beneath his words, the threat of what might come should I submit fully.

All I wanted was to break free of this place—of him—

Lucian’s lips were a whisper away.

When they brushed against mine—it was like ice clashing with fire—a meeting of contrasting elements that sent a ripple of horror through me.

I could taste the darkness on his lips, a tang of power that both terrified and ignited something dark, and forbidden, deep within me.

The moment stretched, dragging out the seconds until they felt like an eternity.

Just enough resistance , just enough to not let him win completely.

The weight of his dark magic swirled around us and wrapped tighter with every shallow breath I took.

Then, as quickly as he had leaned in, he pulled back, leaving me gasping for air, for clarity, for anything but the haze of his influence.

My eyes darted up to meet his, searching for something—anything—beyond that unreadable mask.

But Lucian’s expression revealed nothing, a carefully crafted facade that concealed whatever twisted pleasure he had derived from my struggle.

Lucian brushed the tips of his fingers over his lips, as though he was savoring our brief kiss. “My sons may have corrupted your body,” he murmured. “And the Bloodstone Grimoire seeks to corrupt in the spaces they have left behind— But there is still something within you, Avril… Something none of them can touch. And it will be mine.”

I swallowed hard and took a step back.

“Go back to your room,” he said after an intolerable pause.

His voice washed over me, a thunderous decree that resonated deep within the eerie silence filling the room. “And stay away from what is beyond your capacity—beyond your magic.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

My lips burned from the brief brush of our lips and my tongue was frozen to the roof of my mouth, but I managed to nod in response. My hands trembled at my sides as I backed away and left the room without a word.

As I stepped into the hallway, one thought streaked through my mind—augmented by the grimoire’s whispers.

Lucian knew.

Deep down, I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

He wielded an insidious type of magic that allowed him to know things he had no right to.

I couldn’t shake his words from my mind—his warning, his mockery, his disappointment.

The sharp sting of his cruelty lingered like a bleeding wound.

I rubbed my sleeve roughly against my lips to wipe away the remnants of his kiss, and then wrapped my arms around my torso as I walked slowly back to my room.

The mansion was eerie in its stillness, almost as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something dreadful to happen.

But something dreadful had happened. The stain of Lucian’s magic on my skin, the press of his lips against mine, his threats—

I wondered briefly where Lucian’s sons were—if they would have defended me. Or helped me.

But why would they?

For all I knew, they had been the ones to inform Lucian of what I’d been doing…

But then he would have known what I wanted with the grimoire.

The grimoire’s whispers vibrated with satisfaction as I climbed the stairs.

Had its magic protected me from Lucian?

As I entered the room and closed the door behind me, the grimoire called out from its hiding place under my bed.

An insidious and echoing whisper that made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Lucian’s mention of my father had awakened my curiosity once more—

What forbidden knowledge had drawn my father into ruin?

“There is still something within you, Avril… Something none of them can touch. And it will be mine.”

Lucian’s cold words burned in my mind. What was he talking about?

How much of myself would I lose in my search for what I wanted?

But more importantly—

How much was I willing to give up?