Page 31 of The Cursed

One could not exist without the other, yet it felt as if the two would tear me to shreds long before they ever successfully coexisted.

"Why did you tell my father to seduce my mother in particular? Why did it have to be a Green?" I asked, unable to stop the question from escaping me. The more pressing answer would have been to wait to hear what he expected of me, but in the moments when I felt like I was only an inch from breaking, I couldn't be bothered to care.

Gray sighed, moving to the arm of the sofa. He sat down, perching gently as he spread his legs and guided me between them. Even sitting, he was so tall he came to my throat. Taking my hands in his, he worried them with the anxiety of answering things he thought better left in the past.

I could read it on his face, that bond between us pulling taut. I didn't need to read his mind to know his thoughts, and I hated what it did to my emotions regarding him.

"Charlotte was the most powerful witch I've ever known," he said, his voice sad—as if he missed the woman he'd admired in his own way. "Until you."

"So you wanted me to be powerful?" I asked.

"No, if anything, you being stronger than her would put me at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, I watched countless Hecate witches, Charlotte included, be corrupted by the call of death and the overwhelming power it gave them. I wanted to take the opportunity to give you a chance to still feel alive, even if the bones of the dead surrounded you," he said.

"But you'd never planned for me to survive," I said, being that his words didn't make any sense.

"I didn't plan for you to survive until I saw your dream-self lurking when I killed Loralai. I claimed you that night," he said, brushing his fingers over the mark I'd woken with fifty years after he'd given it to me. "I never intended for that claim to be anything less than permanent, and I knew adding some life to the necromancy would be your best chance."

"My best chance for what?"

"Surviving me," he said, pushing to his feet. He guided me to the door as I stumbled after him, faltering as I considered his words. Did that mean he thought I would outlive him? Or simply that I could survive the things he put me through?

Jonathan meowed as we headed for the door, jumping down from his perch on the back of the sofa and stretching.

"I don't understand," I said, letting Gray guide me into the hallway. He held out his arm, and I took it even though I wanted to snub him. I didn't think I had many allies outside of him and my friends. Plus, I wasn't dumb enough to believe the Coven would welcome me with open arms. They'd tear me apart with their bare hands if I let them.

“I’m not an easy man to love, Witchling. However, if anyone stands a chance of doing it and coming out the other side, it’s you,” he said, leaving me reeling. What he said was true, yet it was different than actually hearing him admit that he knew it to be true. "You asked what I expect of you tonight," he said, shocking me when he paused in the middle of the hall and changed the conversation. I understood the urgency of where we were about to go, but my brain struggled to keep up, nonetheless. "I don'texpectanything of you, but I would appreciate it if you could set aside your animosity toward me long enough to present a united front."

"Are you asking me?" I asked with a scoff. Gray didn't ask for anything.

"Juliet reminded me that if I'd wanted an obedient plaything, I could have had a dozen choices who would be willing to do just that," he said, smirking at the fury that overcame my face.

My cheeks went hot as I yanked back my arm. "Thank you for that explicit reminder."

"But I don't want that, and I never have. I want a partner. I want a woman who loves me enough to challenge me to see the world differently. I want you, Willow, and I understand that I cannot have you if I tell you to do as you're told," he said. “I may not be ready to permit you to choose everything, but I can give you this, right now.”

"Who are you, and what have you done with Headmaster Thorne?" I asked, quirking a brow at him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I'm not saying I won't piss you off or do shit you despise nearly every day, although I am saying that in this, I can stand at your side and allow you to choose to do the same for me," he said, grasping my arm and tucking it back into his so we could resume our walking.

"Why didn't you just let me choose when I tried to leave? I didn’twantto abandon them," I said, referring to the Coven I’d condemned to infighting.

"Because I’m not ready to say goodbye, and you were reacting on impulse out of fear. The Willow I know would never back down from a fight. Do you remember what I told you when you asked what happens when you're tired of fighting?" he asked, making my heart skip in my chest at the reminder of that night. Of the beating I'd suffered and how broken it had made me feel that I had confided in a man who was supposed to be my enemy.

"This is different," I disputed.

"I told you that you would allow me to fight for you. You gave up on us, but I never stopped fighting, Witchling," he said as we reached the top of the stairs. He released me long enough to let me gather the side of my dress in my hand and lift it so that I could descend smoothly. The stones at my feet seemed to recognize me, rising up to meet me with every step and offering what comfort the cold surface could provide.

"So you want me to play the role of the woman in love with the devil who decimated the entire Coven?" I whispered.

"No. I want you to tell the truth. I manipulated you just as much as any of them, and I don't care if they know that truth. I'm the devil, not a saint," he explained with a smirk. "I want you to take the Coven that belongs to you, regardless of your mistakes, and recognize the need for stability in this chaos. You and I will lead our set of peoples the same way the Covenant was always designed to do."

We continued down the stairs in silence, Gray seeming to understand that I needed time to process how this would play out and what I wanted to do to make it happen. I didn't want my Coven to be at war with the Vessels and Archdemons and understood that would bring nothing but death, but what did I know about leading them?

I glanced out the windows as we passed, my eyes immediately drawn to that cemetery once more.

I'd give them something they hadn't had in a long time.

I'd give them the truth.

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