Page 42 of Origins
“No, you aren’t going to die. It’s not that kind of a burn.” Damen placed his palms on my knees and gazed at me. “Please don’t worry. What Finn did… It’s an ability inherited from our family. If we don’t control it, we can hurt people. He let go of his restraint. It’s more like…” he paused, his brow furrowed, as he searched for the words.
“It’s like a physical wound—but on your aura,” Julian interjected. “Normally you wouldn’t see it. However, in severe cases such as yours—or when the recipient is sensitive to these things—it can also manifest physically. There wouldn’t be any pain until it covers your whole body, which would happen if not treated. It’s a curse that will consume you slowly. The only people who can stop it are those who cast it out or someone stronger. Icando it, but it would be better if it was Damen.”
“What caused Finn to do this to her?” Damen asked flatly I had the distinct impression he cared about the answer more than he was letting on.
“Because he’s an evil little punk, that’s why,” Julian snapped. “Why aren’t you angry about this?”
“I am angry. And that’s not what I meant,” Damen sighed. “Generally, Finn’s control is admirable. I wonder what he’s been doing that would cause it to be so fragile.”
“I made him do it,” I admitted, looking at the ground shamefully. “I yelled at him. I was just so angry—about everything. I told him that I hated him. He might not have done anything otherwise. It’s my fau—”
Damen’s finger was pressed against my mouth, cutting off my statement. “It’s not your fault.” A strange emotion stirred in the depths of his eyes. “I just wanted to know what he might have said beforehand. I’m trying to understand his angle. That’s all. No matter what you might have said or did, he hadnoright to lay a hand on you.”
“Bianca, I’m not sure what made you get upset with Finn,” Julian interjected, “but I am sure that he deserved it. Don’t feel guilty.”
That’s right. I forgot that Julian hadn’t been there earlier. “I—”
“Later, baby girl.” Damen got back to his feet. “I’d like to take care of this curse first, please.”
I nodded, that sounded rather urgent. “Okay…”
I had to take off my shirt—the marks had spread to the middle of my back—and I was tucked intimately against Julian’s chest, my legs bent on either side of his thighs. Thankfully the fuzzy blanket preserved my modesty, but it still wasn’t much of a barrier between Julian and myself.
If anyone were to come upon the scene, there would be raised eyebrows for sure. But thankfully it was only Julian, Damen, myself, and an unknown number of ghosts in the house.
Total privacy.
At least I wasn’t the only one embarrassed. Julian tried—but failed—to act nonchalant about this entire situation, but the darkening of his face was undeniable. It actually calmed me to know that I wasn’t the only one having a hard time.
But, eventually, my curiosity overcame my shyness as I heard Damen muttering behind me.
“What are you doing back there?” I asked. “How will you remove the curse? Am I still going to have bruises? Will it hurt?”
Julian’s mouth lifted at my questions, but it was Damen who replied. He sounded angry now, and his hand hovered closely over my back. Not touching—but I could feel the heat of his hands close to my skin.
“It might hurt a little at first. I’ll try to be gentle, but curse-breaking is difficult. If it does hurt, beat up Julian. After a moment, you’ll begin to feel numb and tired— having your aura manipulated is draining.” His hands never once pausing. “You will bruise, on top of what you already have. The marks will add more to your collection. It looks like Finn really did a number…”
“Can I kill him?” Julian asked.
“Not now,” Damen replied. “Now I need to focus. Bianca, I’m going to start.”
I was about to ask him what that meant, but a jolt shot through me. Even though I tried, a pained sound escaped, and I tensed at the unfamiliar sensation.
Julian’s hands grasped my own, entwining our fingers between our chests. “It’s alright.” I glanced up at him, meeting his comforting stare. Then, the pain dimmed, and my thoughts became muddled.
Which was probably a good thing, because the intimacy of this position was becoming harder to ignore with every second that passed. All I could focus on was the feeling of Julian’s body under mine, and the soft touch of his breaths passing over my head.
I was so dazed that when Julian tensed, I barely noticed.
“What is it, is there something wrong?” he asked.
“We’ll have to see,” Damen replied, moving his hands over my shoulders. “Bianca,” his voice was closer, and I fought the urge to open my eyes. “What do you know about your birth parents?”
Once again, I was in that semi-lucid state between sleep and wakefulness. Damen repeated my name, his tone more forceful, and my eyes popped open in realization.
“What?” I jerked up, snapping out of that place of isolation. Pain resurfaced, and my head collided with Julian’s chin with a loud crack.
I had broken his face.
