Page 14 of The Cursed

I couldn’t be the one to deliver it. I couldn’t be the one to make choices between life and death.

"I know you were a virgin before, but we've done that enough times now that I know you're aware of what an orgasm is, my love," Gray responded, quirking an eyebrow at me as that infuriating smirk tried to make light of the situation. As if he hadn't turned my entire world upside down.

"What am I? I shouldn't have been able to burn your skin. I'm not a fire witch--"

"You're still my witchling," he said, his face softening and the traces of his arrogant amusement waning. He watched me like I was two words away from a breakdown, and maybe I was.

Breakdowns usually meant I cried in the shower where no one could see me. Except out here, surrounded by nature and the natural course of life...

I didn't know what would happen. Not straightaway.

"You're my wife," he added, touching a single finger to the underside of my chin.

"Am I even still human? Am I still a witch?" I asked, glancing at the forest around me. I still felt the hum of the trees in my blood, louder than ever, so I didn't think my connection to that part of me had been affected.

But something was distinctly different.

"You were never human," Gray answered, stating a fact I'd never reconciled. I might have had magic in my veins, but I bled all the same as a human. I hurt and hungered, and all the parts of me that matteredfelthuman.

The little brother I loved felt human, as he remained powerless until his sixteenth birthday. It was through his eyes that I saw the world, through the life I knew he would live without me, that I saw what I wished I could have.

However, I wasn’t strong enough to be alone in my body without my magic to get there. I wasn’t strong enough to face the empty void my life had created, the hollows where love should have resided and there was only hurt, pain, and anger.

"Am I a witch?" I asked, watching as he reached out toward one of the trees nearest us. It responded to his call, swaying a single branch toward him so that he could take a leaf between his fingers. He stared at it as if it was a curiosity. It was as if he couldn't understand why I cared so much for something so... ordinary.

"That's complicated," he said, his golden stare meeting mine finally. I swallowed, trying to fight back the tremble to my lower lip. I couldn't stand the thought of losing everything I knew.

"How?" I whispered, a tenseness to my voice that hinted at my dwindling patience. He'd brought me back to life when I hadn't asked for it; the least he could do was explain what he'd done to me.

"In order to bring you back, I had to give you a lot of my blood. More than I would now that you have accepted the marital bond. I've only given one person that much of my blood in the past, and it was for a very different purpose, but some of the consequences appear to be similar."

"Charlotte?" I asked, scoffing. Of course, my ancestor would be the only other person. I seemed to be doomed to repeat her life story. "Were you two..."

"No. Charlotte and I had a relationship of mutual respect, but there was never anything beyond tentative friendship. She didn't trust me, and I didn't trust her, but I respected her tenacity," Gray answered, pausing to glance toward the woods as his body tensed. "She is also not the one I gave my blood to, though it was at her request."

"Who?" I asked, my brow furrowing as the realization of the only other possibility struck me. "The Covenant?" I asked, the words feeling torn from my throat.

"Yes, my love. The gift of my blood was what resurrected Susannah and George from their graves. Even Charlotte's magic could not animate a person beyond the moment she commanded them. Once she released her magic, they returned to their natural state,” he said, making my blood run cold. I glanced toward the woods at the sound of crunching leaves, trying to quell my rising panic.

"Does that mean..."

"That means you are what you were always meant to be. Our people have the opportunity to live in true harmony with you to lead the witches back to the old ways, and with me to guide the archdemons and Vessels to a new way of life," he said, and something hopeful brightened his golden eyes. “We can build a home here.”

I wondered, even if for just a second, if Hell had ever felt like home. Or if it had been a reminder of his punishment, a place he couldn’t escape any more than the souls trapped there. I shoved back that pity, determined not to allow myself to feel anything for the man who had used me and broken my heart without remorse.

“You killed twelve witches to bring me back. The Coven isn’t going to forgive that,” I snapped, shaking my head at his stupidity.

“I killed twelve witches who came from families outside Crystal Hollow,” he said with a devious grin. “Ones that had no family or lasting relationships here. They’ll be angry for a time, but humans are so fleeting. Even if their rage did persist, they’d be dead soon enough. The future is ours to write,” he said, giving me one last smile before he spun suddenly.

One of the Cursed leapt from the trees surrounding us, throwing his entire weight at Gray. The devil caught it around the throat, his grip unrelenting as he held it aloft. The bones on my neck rattled, straining toward the creature with the call of magic that felt so familiar and yet so different all at once. Whereas the pulse of earth in my blood felt like a warm comfort, this was the cold plunge of icy depths.

My fingers tingled with it, pain filling the tips as I fought to keep my hand pressed to my side. This magic—Black Magic—wasn't something I'd ever wanted for myself. The only consideration I'd ever given it was in unmaking the Vessels for revenge.

I'd never planned to use it for anything else.

Gray held him still, his attention shifting to me and the struggle he could undoubtedly sense. "Always follow the magic, Witchling," he murmured, spinning the creature in his hold. He wrapped his palm around the front of the creature's throat, holding him still with unimaginable strength. The wolfman's arms thrashed, his hands fully formed with fur on the back and claws longer than a normal wolf. "If it wants his life, feed that craving. A necromancer has to feed the balance just the same as you feed the earth."

But it wasn't death that called to my magic, only the sacrifice of blood, flesh, and meat. I moved toward the Cursed, swallowing as he snapped his jaw at me. Those clawed hands thrashed, swiping to catch a piece of me as I pinned him with a glare.

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