Page 45 of The Immortal’s Curse (Bound to the Immortals #2)

DARCIE

About half a mile from the mansion, I sit at the edge of the pond I found near the end of my first stay, the same one where I dreamed of me and Des succumbing to our attraction to one another.

Only, now I know it wasn’t really a dream… But I don’t have it in me to drown in mortification. Not after the alliance meeting…

Nothing stirs beneath the surface of the still, blue water. The sun has already dipped behind the green hills, its last golden rays barely holding their own against the encroaching dark.

I slip off a ballet flat Bella loaned me and stretch my leg toward the water, careful not to disturb any resting creatures below. My toes hover for a breath, then I dip them into the pond, breaking the glassy surface. Coolness wraps around my foot as I rotate my ankle, watching gentle ripples flow.

The breeze moves through the tall grass like a whisper, and insects sing their nighttime chorus. It’s… peaceful. My lungs fill slowly, and I lean back on my elbows, letting the silence settle over me like a blanket.

I need this. After everything this afternoon, I need this .

The memory of the meeting resurfaces.

Every eye in the room burned into me when I entered the meeting hall.

There were more people than yesterday, twice as many.

Half-breeds and lesser Immortals stood shoulder to shoulder, and their whispers reached a fervent pitch the moment I stepped up and stood beside the Originals on the dais.

They all had theories about why I was there.

At the front of the crowd, Alex stood, holding my gaze. His presence was oddly reassuring as Thane skipped the formalities and immediately called Des forward.

Calm yet commanding, Des explained what happened in the dungeon. He told the crowd how Adir harmed me, how he trapped me behind an impenetrable barrier. How, even locked away, he was dangerous.

I can’t remember every word Des said, but I can still feel the weight of them. I hear the anger in his voice. The pain. The fury .

Gasps had filled the room. Lesser Immortals and half-breeds turned on each other. Fingers pointed at witches and warlocks. Whispers turned into shouted accusations. Then, Des raised one hand, and the hall fell silent.

By the time he called for a trial, the crowd was practically vibrating with the desire for retribution. When he proposed reducing Adir’s power to that of a lesser Immortal, their approving cheer was deafening.

None of the Original Nine spoke up, but the displeased frowns on Julisanna and Faine revealed their opposition to the plan. Which part? I don’t know. I’m not sure what else they think could be done to contain Adir and his threat to humanity.

The soft crunch of footsteps pulls me back to the present. I lift my head as Des steps through the tree line, walking through the tall, waving grass towards me.

A pang of déjà vu hits me, and my traitorous heart thumps.

I scan behind him and swallow down the emotion clawing up my throat. “Where’s Argos? ”

“Off chasing some poor creature through the woods.” He reaches the edge of the pond and sits beside me, sporting a casual T-shirt and navy shorts.

I think of that day all those weeks ago, when Argos found me resting by this very pond. When Des appeared and proposed his grand plan to convince the others that I wasn’t his One.

Something shifted between us that day. The wariness hovering between us had lessened as we teamed up for a common goal. But then I was abducted, and we kissed. And the visions started.

My shoulders fall with my sigh.

“What is it?” he asks.

The fading sunlight glints over the amber highlights in his hair. I hate how handsome he looks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head and turn back to the pond. “Thanks for all you said in the meeting today. For a minute, I was afraid Thane might make me tell everyone what happened in the dungeon.”

“He wanted to,” Des says. “That’s why I stepped in. You shouldn’t have to explain it again. Not until the trial.”

I nod, grateful, but tension coils in my stomach. I have one week until Adir’s trial. One week to figure out what I’m going to say to make sure Adir can’t hurt me or anyone I care about.

I swirl my foot through the water again, staring at the ripples, trying to calm my racing heart. “I hope everyone agrees to not allow Adir to keep his power.”

If they don’t, I have a sickening feeling that no one will be able to stop Adir from following through on his plan to hurt Eshe and Bella.

Des leans back on his hands, gaze fixed somewhere past the tree line. “I wouldn’t worry. Reducing Adir’s power is a reasonable course of action. The only ones who may object are Originals, and they will not be able to go against a majority vote.”

“But isn’t the Council ultimately the one who transforms Adir into a lesser Immortal? Can you do it without their agreement?”

“They will agree,” Des says. His certainty should calm me, but it doesn’t.

“I hope you’re right.”

“Besides,” he adds, shifting his weight with casual grace that belies his muscular form, “it’s the Elders who facilitate an Immortal’s transition. Not the Council.”

“Elders?” It’s the first I’ve heard of the unusual title.

Des’s eyes stay locked on the trees swaying in the distance. “Another supernatural being.”

“A half-breed?”

“No.” He pinches his lips. “They are… entirely different.”

“Different, how ?”

He hesitates, then shakes his head and offers a thin smile. “Let’s save that conversation for another time. You have enough on your mind as it is.”

My instinct is to disagree, but I force myself to admit he’s not wrong. My brain is stretched at the seams, stuffed with ancient secrets and dangerous truths. I need a break from grand revelations. At least for a couple of hours.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, voice softer now.

I let out a long breath. “I’m just wondering how this will all end.” And how much worse it’ll get before it does.

His gaze sharpens, and I feel the weight of his next words before he speaks, “You’re not alone in this, Darcie. I’m here. We all are.”

My throat tightens. That’s part of the problem.

“I don’t think I’ve apologized yet.”

I blink and lean back in surprise. “For what?”

“For leaving you alone in the dungeon.” His jaw clenches. “For not stopping Adir. I promised to protect you.”

“You did,” I say gently.

“And I failed. ”

I place my hand over his before I can think better of it. The second our skin meets, sparks skitter up my arm. I ignore the flutter in my chest. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He stares at our hands. His thumb brushes mine, and another jolt of warmth floods my skin.

What am I doing?

I pull my hand back and look up at the dimming sky, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat rushing to my cheeks.

What’s wrong with me?

Why do I keep touching him? I’m done pursuing something he clearly doesn’t want. Why won’t my subconscious catch up?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Blood rushes in my ears. I lower my chin and meet his gaze. “Talk about what?”

“Your mother,” he says. “Your bloodline.”

“Oh.” My shoulders sag. “ That .”

Remorse shines in his annoyingly stunning eyes. “I should have told you the moment I found out.”

Sincerity lines every inch of his face. “Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly?” He rubs a hand over his face. “Because I wasn’t confident that I was right. Not until I spoke with Alex.”

“Alex?” I blink. “He knew?”

“In a way. When I brought up the visions, he mentioned they’re usually signs of powers awakening, something that doesn’t happen for witches or warlocks until they come of age.”

“Symptoms,” I echo, straightening. “Wait. Come of age?”

“Your twenty-first birthday. For witches, that’s when powers usually begin to surface.”

“A witch,” I murmur, numbness travelling throughout my limbs. “How is that even possible?”

“Your mother’s ancestors must’ve been descendants of Charmian.”

“Wouldn’t that mean she’s a witch, too? ”

“Not necessarily. If the bloodline is dilute, powers might not emerge unless an external stimulus triggers them.”

I connect the dots. “Something like interacting with Immortals?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Yes.”

I shake my head. “That’s… great.”

“I’m so sorry, Darcie.”

I look at him. Really look.

For once, I can’t find the mask or the lie in him. Something in my chest loosens. “Why are you being so nice? After the last time we spoke?—”

“I was harsh,” he cuts me off, frowning. “What I said needed to be said, but… I could’ve handled it better.”

My heart sinks. I’m so pathetic. Des has made it painfully clear that nothing is going to happen between us. I’ve accepted that.

I have .

But the way he looks at me now, the quiet concern in his eyes, how he reached out to console me in Thane’s study… It’s confusing.

And hope, the stupid, aching hope I wish I could kill, creeps into my chest anyway.

“Darcie?” Des prompts, voice careful.

I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. “Sorry. I should go.”

I push to my feet.

He hurries to stand, too, as if instinct might drive him to block my path. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” The lie scrapes my tongue. “It’s just been a long day. I’m tired.” I turn toward the path leading to the mansion.

His hand lifts, stopping me in my tracks.

For one suspended moment, I think he will ask me to stay .

But his fingers curl back to his side. His words are resigned, “Of course. Goodnight, Darcie.”

My soul screams .

I blink fast, holding back tears. “Goodnight, Des.”

I spin and walk away with quick, desperate steps. I need to get to the mansion before I lose the battle with my emotions, before mortification swallows me whole.

All I want is to throw myself under the covers and bleed out these feelings. This humiliating, relentless pull to an Immortal who will never care about me the way he cared about them.