Page 107 of Cursed
“Stop,” I whispered. For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and held up a hand, ready to wrap a black cord of power around his neck to stop his lips from moving.
Yet, at the moment of truth, I struggled with the impulse. “Why didn’t you find me to tell me this? Why make me suffer with your hateful curse?”
“For petty pride, Cain. When I lived on the plane of Earth, I couldn’t swallow my pride to seek you out and admit I’d been wrong. I used the power God had bestowed to guide modern humanity against my firstborn. And once I realized my mistake, it was too late. God called me home, and I’ve been waiting for you to arrive ever since.”
“You gave me eternal life, eternaltorture. You didn’t truly expect me to arrive, did you? Being half human, I would’ve had to have died first.”
“I know.” He hung his head. “But still, I’d hoped you’d somehow find your way here, even if it was only to take my soul to Hell with you. I pleaded with God to intervene, but free will can be its own kind of crutch, and God doesn’t believe in changing the balance except in very special circumstances.”
So, he understands why I’m here.Somehow, my grand moment, my unending patience and schemes, felt hollow.
“But you have grown so much.” Adam took one step closer, intensity burning in his gaze. “You still have the same spark of goodness inside your heart, like your mother. If taking my soul to your master is what you truly wish, I’ll not fight. I deserve no less for the hand I played in your suffering.”
Another step closer, and only a few inches separated his body from mine. Hope replaced the icy determination in his stare.
“Stay back.” I jabbed my weapon toward him. Underneath my armor, sweat broke out across my skin, and the heat building inside reminded me of being baked inside a brick oven.
I don’t want his hope.
All this time, the only thing I’d had to hang on to was my fury, and seeing him now—contrite, repentant, andold—threatened to squash my rage into nothing.
Stopping, Adam nodded once and let his arms fall to his sides, drawing his shoulders inward.
“I’ll never forgive you, Father,” I murmured through a spasm of pain squeezing my chest. “You’ve no idea what you did to me, what I went through. I didn’t just lose my brother that day, I lost my entire family—you, Mother, my home.”
Though I did gain a new family.The early memories of the price of Lucian’s failure, of being tossed into the Lake of Fire, surfaced, and a shudder ran down my spine.A family of sorts, anyhow
“You’re right.” His face fell, then he turned and collapsed onto the bench. A tear tracked down his dark, lined cheek. “As a parent, I made mistakes all the time. Turning you away when you needed me most was the worst thing I’ve ever done. No matter how many good things I accomplished on Earth, that one sin is a black stain on my soul.”
Where was the angry man from the day he’d thrown me out of my home? The righteous fury, those hateful words?
This elderly man is but a husk of who I remember.
Sitting alone in the middle of the vibrant-green forest filled with life, he was nothing but a soul wasting away with remorse.
In disgust, I dissipated my sword. No matter how angry and hurt I’d been in the past, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—get what I came here to find.
This isn’t how I imagined my grand retribution scheme.
He needed forgiveness.
From me.
The idea churned my stomach like a rancid piece of meat.
CouldI forgive? I closed my eyes and cleared my head, re-examining my own betrayal of Phoebe. Had she truly forgiven me for what I’d done, what I still did? Would she feel the same way once Malachi and Lucian ripped her soul from her body and enslaved it to Hell?
I yearned to feel her bright smile and silky pink hair. Thinking about her eased my confusion and anger.
I’d been so focused on what I thought I wanted I’d never stopped to think about what I needed.
If you’re not afraid to die, then you’ve never found a reason to live.
I pursued vengeance, but I craved love. Not the love of Adam, or Lucian, or God, but the love of one person. Phoebe.
What am I doing here, trying to settle an old wound that doesn’t matter anymore?
Adam knew the truth—I hadn’t killed Abel—and he’d had to live with the knowledge of cursing and abandoning his firstborn son to the world. It seemed fitting punishment enough.
