Page 54 of Druid Cursed

“Maggie.” Kellen’s tone held a warning, a warning she ignored. He wanted her to run, to save herself and live a full and meaningful life away from witches, magic, and druids. Funny how a few hours changed everything.

Sorcha drifted closer, and Maggie held her breath, the spell ready in her hand. Just a few more steps, Grandma.

“I am not a buffoon,” Sorcha said and clucked her tongue. “I know of the separation spell in your hand.”

Maggie froze.

“Consider carefully, Granddaughter. I cannot be forced out of this vessel. If you choose to betray me further, when I deign to depart, I will ensure your sister-friend Wendy is utterly broken in both body and soul before releasing her.”

Blood pounded in Maggie’s head. There had been no certain indication of her friend for days.

If Wendy watched from Sorcha’s eyes, trapped in her own body, she couldn’t tell.

Tears blurred her vision, adding another layer of hell to the scene.

Sorcha could be bluffing, but she couldn’t take that chance and endanger Wendy.

One by one, she lifted her fingers away from the sphere. The spell settled back into the bottom of her pocket, beneath the leather pouch.

“You are decidedly wiser than the druids.” Sorcha nodded.

“I’m sorry, Kellen,” she sobbed.

“Never apologize, mo chuisle .” He choked and dropped to the ground.

Sorcha watched with a small, satisfied smile.

“Stop it.” Maggie trembled, helplessness a straitjacket holding her captive. She didn’t care that she begged. “Please.”

“He does not deserve pity or compassion.” She flicked her fingers, and coughs racked Kellen’s big body. Blood dotted the soil beside his face, ruby red in the glowing light.

“Enough,” Caedmon finally rasped. He looked up from where he kneeled.

The mud spattered on his white shirt looked like twisted letters, a spell both ancient and foul.

“I must confess the truth.” He glanced at Kellen, who had curled into a fetal position, too close to the disturbing mist. “You’re imprisoned because of me, brother. Cursed because of me.”

Sorcha sneered. “He alone has earned every moment of torment.”

“That’s the ugliness of it. He hasn’t.” Caedmon stood, unsteady on his feet. His ragged breaths clouded white in the chilled air. “Kellen wasn’t the one who misled Aibreann and spurned her afterward. He wasn’t the reason she took her life. I was .”

Maggie fumbled for the stone behind her, needing the support. The words in the journal, the tearstained ink, had been over Caedmon, not Kellen.

Silence thrummed, pulsing with tension. Sorcha went deathly still, her hand curled mid-spell.

“I pretended to be Kellen because I knew she fancied him,” Caedmon continued, shaking. “I wanted her. He didn’t. So I tricked her, had my fun, and my brother bore the consequences.”

“What?” Kellen’s voice was hardly more than a tortured whisper. He had found enough strength to roll partly over and face his twin.

Maggie could only stare at Caedmon and the guilt twisting his handsome face.

All this time, Kellen had been punished for a crime his brother had committed and kept secret.

Because of him, a woman had taken her own life and that of her child.

Her stomach rolled. Had Caedmon even known about Aibreann’s pregnancy?

“Aibreann stole Mother’s locket. That’s how Sorcha got it, how she cursed you.

” Caedmon fisted his hair with both hands as if he could strangle the past. “I couldn’t tell you.

I couldn’t waste our seven days together with blame and hate.

” A pleading entered his voice. “Kel, I swear I devoted every day to finding a counter-spell. I’ve never stopped trying to free you. ”

Kellen was absolutely still, a picture of savage, barely leashed rage. He stared at his brother as if he were an enemy worse than Sorcha.

Caedmon straightened, and a mask of calm snapped into place. His small smile was bitter. “I told you… Some deeds are unforgiveable.”

Sorcha began vibrating. The wind roared through the trees and lashed Maggie’s hair into her eyes.

As if doused with kerosene, the flames howled into a bonfire with a blast of blistering heat.

Sorcha lifted her face to the storm, and a banshee wail erupted from her mouth, a shrill call foretelling the dead.

Maggie found Kellen’s wild gaze. Too late. It was too late to remedy the past or break the curse. She fumbled in her pocket for the leather pouch and pulled it free. Caedmon’s last-resort spell. He hadn’t told her exactly what it would do. She just knew it was her only hope now.

Lightning split the sky, and Sorcha whirled to face Maggie, her face macabre beneath the white-hot flare.

Maggie lifted the pouch, prepared to throw. “Stop—”

Sorcha gracefully lifted her hand. The leather pouch ripped from Maggie’s hand and flew to the witch. It paused in midair, an inch from Sorcha’s face. Her grin held a mad edge as she spun and hurled the spell into the vapor, directly between Caedmon and Kellen.

A monstrous spear of lightning forked jaggedly across the sky, painting the scene in electric white. With a mighty boom of thunder, the bolt split and struck down, one for each Ravenwood.

The force of the impact slammed Maggie off her feet. She crashed on her back and struggled to draw a breath.

Ozone stung the air. Dead silence rang across the clearing, the wind and rain gone along with any sign of Caedmon’s magical cage. A patch of blue sky gleamed through the breaking clouds.

Maggie pushed to her knees, steadying herself on the smooth slab of rock beside her. Beat by beat, her heart collapsed.

The bewitched vapor had vanished. Two black, steaming marks scorched the empty ground where Kellen and Caedmon had been.

The Ravenwood twins were gone.