Page 48 of Druid Cursed

He looked up at her, and she swore the fire danced in his black eyes for a second before flickering out.

Even though it was barely morning, he looked fresh from a shower, short hair styled, clean-shaven, dressed in slacks and a sweater, a modern version of his brother.

Alike and yet so different. Kellen didn’t hide behind a gloss of smiles and suits—he chose druid darkness, snarls, and secrets.

Yet Caedmon seemed the colder of the two.

“Maggie, I trust you’re feeling better?” He stood and faced her, wearing a lopsided grin that undermined his concerned words.

“Must have slept it off. I feel fine.”

He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and glanced at the door, as if expecting Kellen to be scowling at him from the hallway. Or Jeeves to suddenly appear for any reason whatsoever. “To what do I owe the pleasure so early in the morning?”

She stopped beside his desk, her heart deciding to pound, pound, pound . What if he could see right through her as well as his brother seemed to? “I wanted to get the ring and key back from you. I know Kellen asked you to keep them for safekeeping, but—”

“Sure.”

Maggie paused, suspicious. She’d anticipated at least an argument. Nothing ever went this smoothly for her. Ever.

Caedmon turned toward the cabinet where he stored all his sketchy druid ingredients. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Should I be afraid to ask why?”

“Today is Samhain, as I’m sure you know.

Sorcha’s power peaks.” Pursing his lips, he unlocked the cabinet with a black iron key that absolutely looked like it belonged to an ancient druid.

He opened the cabinet, and a cedar-scented draft filtered out.

Inside, bottles, bags, and wooden boxes were stuffed onto every shelf.

“I finished the last protection amulet.”

Maggie inched closer for a better look. “Where did you get all of this?” She picked up a jar labeled spider teeth. “Spiders have teeth?”

“Fangs, technically, but arachnids already have a sullied reputation. I didn’t want to add to their notoriety.” Caedmon handed her the quest key and ring as if they were nothing more valuable than paperclips.

She slipped them into her pocket with the stone and spells. “You have a soft spot for snakes, too, like your brother?”

Even as she made the joke, her heart squeezed, a reminder that she’d never share an inside joke with Kellen again.

She shouldn’t care what happened to him.

He’d kept the truth from her, misled her.

But as much as his ruse had hurt, she didn’t want him to suffer for eternity, stuck in Sorcha’s spell.

“If I royally mess up my part with Wendy, will you—” She swallowed the dry lump in her throat and managed to keep her tears banked. “Will you still be able to break Kellen’s curse?”

He froze, and when he looked at her, his irises were like an endless, starless night, black and void. “His curse will be broken.”

Lightning flashed, flooding the study in white-hot light. Boom. Thunder shook the entire room.

She yelped and grabbed Caedmon’s arm for support, and the chill of his skin shivered through her.

“Don’t worry.” He gently detached himself from her grip. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. You’re important to Kellen.”

“Yeah. Super important.”

Rain pelted the windowpane. Lightning zigzagged across the sky, and another long peal of thunder rattled the jars lining the cabinet.

Caedmon hung a tiny velvet pouch around her neck with the other charms. “No dark magic, I promise.” He winked, as if dark magic concerned her most. To be fair, there was a time not too long ago when it did.

“And don’t be too hard on my brother. He’s often his own worst enemy and far too noble for anyone’s good. ”

“Protection charm overkill.” She lifted the pouch to her nose. A sweet, delicate scent blended with a mild hint of fresh-cut wood. Nothing nasty. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m tougher than I look. My ex-husband can fly brooms with the worst of them, and I survived him.”

“You married a warlock?” Caedmon’s eyes sparkled as he crumbled dried herbs into a stoneware cup. “What were you thinking?”

“Brain fart.”

He laughed, low and warm. “Not all warlocks are created equal.” His smile faded into a haunted expression as he held her gaze. “Kellen would prefer that you depart immediately to avoid any danger, even if that means Sorcha wins.”

“Not happening.” She wasn’t going anywhere without Wendy. Maggie lifted her chin, her emotions twisting into a confused knot. The Kellen protectiveness she adored wouldn’t soften her resolve or alter her path. She pressed her lips together. It won’t.

“I hoped you’d say that.” He watched her, unblinking. “You deserve the full truth.”

More skeletons? Great. She didn’t know if she could handle any more dirty druid reveals.

“Sorcha wants more than to imprison Kellen forever. She wants Ravenwood itself, our birthright. If she gets her wish, the land will sicken beneath her rule. People will die.”

A cold ribbon slithered in her stomach. “But you’ll stop her. Right?”

“Alone, not for long. A half century at best.”

Maggie’s fingers trembled as she touched the bracelet her father had given her, needing the comfort. Her encounter with Sorcha in the woods had been more than enough to understand the evil burning in her great-grandmother’s soul.

“Kellen and I could defeat her, together. I need my brother beside me, but he…”

The undertone of his words made her stomach turn, uneasy. “What is it?”

“Do you love him?” he asked instead of answering.

The question sent her thoughts spiraling.

Did she? Love him? Her heart certainly felt crushed at his betrayal. But love embraced both the good and the bad, and her time with Kellen had been…

Life-changing.

She’d never be the same. In less than a week, he had ignited her bravery, boosted her confidence, made her believe she was important, wanted, cherished.

She had connected with him so deeply that it would be a tragedy to deny it, even though he had hurt her.

And he’d taught her that uttering truth was a pure form of freedom.

That was one lesson she had no intention of ignoring.

“It might sound ridiculous to you, especially since I’ve known him for so short a time, and maybe I’m silly for saying it, but yes.” She lifted her chin and held his gaze, challenging him to disagree. “I love Kellen.”

If she was being honest with herself, his secret had hurt her so much because she loved him.

Her throat tightened as shadows curled in the corners and deepened.

The herbs in the pouch around her neck filled the air, her nose, and her lungs with their sweetness.

Tingles traveled over her skin in a continuous wave.

It had to be magic, this sensation that fate wrapped its fingers around her wrist, unshakeable, and yet she co uldn’t run even if she’d wanted to.

“Why did you ask me that, Caedmon?”

“Instead of spending his last precious minutes with the one he loves as he longs to, he’s allowing you to believe terrible lies about him so that you may blissfully forget him when he’s gone.

Forever.” His expression hardened, almost cruel.

“True love puts the other first, Maggie. Kellen is not any other man. He is yours .”

A fluttering rose from the very core of her being, small but sure.

Caedmon spoke the truth, the certainty of it deep and undeniable.

She’d been so tangled up in the lingering echoes of her divorce—the hurt, betrayal, and doubt—that it had been easier to focus on freeing Wendy, safer to believe Aibreann’s story, an excuse to blame Kellen for keeping his secrets.

But even after a handful of days, she knew Kellen.

He wasn’t the type of man to deceive, use, or betray another.

He’d rather sacrifice any second of happiness than selfishly take whatever he could at another’s expense.

Instead of believing in him and trusting what her heart quietly, repeatedly claimed, she’d allowed fear to color her judgment.

Maggie swallowed hard.

Adrenaline pumped hot through her veins, burning every doubt to fine ash. It didn’t matter what experience had taught her or that her rationality demanded caution. Her heart had known all along that Kellen was hers while she’d allowed her past to control her future.

She loved him. How could she walk away?

“I won’t fail him or our land,” Caedmon continued, pouring a clear liquid into the stone cup as if he hadn’t just blown her battlements to bits and reshaped them in the same second. “Both have suffered too much already on my behalf.”

Maggie blinked slowly, feeling like she stepped into a dream. “I need to see him.”

Pausing with the cup in his hand, Caedmon looked over his shoulder at her. His expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. “Why, Maggie? Unless you’ve decided that true love is worthy of any sacrifice, it’s kindest to leave Kellen be.”

Before she could answer, lightning cracked close to the manor, and the tangy sweetness of holly infused the room. Electricity shot prickles everywhere. A cloud of leaves swirled before the glass and formed a human silhouette, lingering a moment before a gust blasted them out of sight.

The protection charms warmed against her skin, and terror jolted through her, fierce as the gathering storm outside. Sorcha.

Caedmon paled as all the lights went out, leaving only the fire to chase the gloom. “Well. It seems Sorcha has decided she doesn’t need the added energy of the new moon. It’s not even midday yet.”

“I need to see Kellen. I need to tell him I love him before it’s too late.”

He nodded and shoved the cup her way. “Drink this, for extra protection. Go to Kellen in the garden. Middle fork at the path, take three rights. He’ll be there, little sparrow, I guarantee it.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Because you remind me of a little bird caught in a cage of its own making, a sparrow dying to fly into the wild and not knowing how.”

She couldn’t argue that. Maggie swallowed the bitter drink and shuddered as it spread into her veins like lava, hot and sizzling.

With gentle fingers, he pulled the band from her ponytail, setting her hair free. He dropped his chin, and the shadows masked his face—all but the fiery depths of his abysmal eyes. “Now, fly free. I’ll take care of everything else.”