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Chapter Thirty-Two

“ Y ou’re awake,” said Grim, shutting the door behind him.

Serena sat in her bed, looking outside at the rain pattering on the window.

She had woken up to find out that it was the next morning, and she was in her own room back home.

Her mind felt numb, she had no idea what to say.

The image of her aunt covered in blood haunted her, and it now joined the memory of finding her pale-faced and still on the spring morning she had passed.

The grief of losing her all over again robbed her of breath, and she simply sat there, wondering what she had done to deserve this sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” said Grim, sensing her thoughts. “I cannot imagine how hard this is for you.”

“How did I get back?”

He grimaced, as if he did not want to relay this part. “You were in shock; you wouldn’t stop screaming or fighting, so I had to knock you out to get you through the door back. I put you into bed when we got back, and you’ve been sleeping since.”

She looked back to the window outside.

“Aunt Maeve hated the rain,” she said. “She’d say the weather had no business being this noisy when people were trying to get things done.”

“What about you?” he asked gently. “Do you like the rain?”

“Yes,” she replied. “The din of the rain might stop you from getting things done, but it also drowns out the noise you don’t want to hear. It distracts you from your own thoughts that threaten to pull you under.”

There was silence then, until she spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Grim,” she whispered. “If not for me, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m sure you would have just found the book and taken it back to the spirits. But I had to go and read it.”

He shook his head. “If you had never opened that book, I might never have met you, and you would never have broken my curse.” Cupping her chin gently, he made her face toward him.

“I wouldn’t trade being here with you for anything in the world, do you hear me?

I would rather have died in that tale than have never met you. ”

Of course that’s what he would say. That was just the kind of person Grim was.

He probably felt sorry for the pitiful girl who lived alone in the wilderness, and wanted to make her feel like she was special for the time they spent together.

But he didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to be stuck with her, to have his life constantly in danger because of a curse she was under.

His curse was already broken. He deserved to be free.

There was no use arguing with him though—she knew that—so she simply remained silent, staring at the sheets.

He took her silence as acquiescence and settled back into the chair he sat upon.

That was the great thing about Grim—he knew when to not push.

As he busied himself with the same piece of wood she had seen him carving before, a plan began to form in her head.

She had to make sure that he was never in danger again, these tales were becoming too much, their misses always too near.

There had to be a way to keep him from being involved in the next one somehow.

Grim had already gotten rid of his curse, there was no reason for him to search for the scepter.

As for her own curse, she had to solve that problem herself, there was no need to drag someone else into it.

Besides, the information Lore had given the last time was concerning.

If the curse was truly becoming obsessed with Serena, it would not give her up so easily.

Almost as if in response her tattoo heated up, and she stifled a gasp, not wanting to alarm Grim.

Yes, she had to make sure it didn’t dig its nasty claws into Grim. And there was only one person who could make sure of that.