Page 81 of Seduced By Darkness
Thalia captures Vi’s face in her hands, her thumbs caressing her cheeks. She has some small abilities with healing. She bites her lip. “Call for the medic! Her brain is bleeding, I think.”
Bleeding—I shoot her a horrified look.
“It’s bad,” Thalia whispers, reading my mind. “A thousand tiny little bleeds as if something tore through her mind.”
I seek and find Adaia’s merciless gaze and my words come out hoarsely. “What did you do to her?”
The queen smiles malevolently. “Me?Idid nothing. This is all your doing, you wretched prick. You think you can steal from me and remain unpunished—?”
“I stolenothingthat wasn’t given freely.” Hot fury leeches through my brain. Vi looked at me as if I was a stranger, a monster. She didn’t recognize me.
And now there’s blood dripping from her nose, and she’s unconscious.
“You cursed her.”
It’s the only explanation.
Cursing is a form of magic that’s most commonly found in Unseelie. The Seelie kingdoms generally abhor it as something that their darker, blighted brethren might conjure, and they keep their fingers well clear of it.
But I spent years in Unseelie.
I know what a curse looks like.
Adaia cursed her to forget me.
I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. The daemons inside me howl and scream. And for a second my vision goes black.
Curses are borne of magic, but they’re twined of hatred.
It doesn't matter how much power you have when you lay a curse. A common hag can spit a curse so powerful it withers the ground around her for fifty miles, if she’s emotionally connected to the curse she speaks.
Curses brew in hate. They smolder with resentment. And they find fertile ground in feelings of betrayal.
The angrier you are when you speak the curse, the stronger it is. The more you hate the person you curse, the more it lingers. The death of the curser can undo a curse in some instances—usually after a few months or years as those feelings dissipate and the curse unknots—ifthe emotions that breathed it into the world weren't too strong.
A curse that is spoken in pure rage and betrayal—one that eats enough of your magic—can linger long beyond the death of the curser.
I curl Vi against my chest, pressing a kiss to her temples.
Curses can always be broken.
It’s just a matter of finding the right key to unlock it.
And then Mariana is there, gently stroking a hand through Vi’s hair. Her eyes go vacant as she magically probes Vi, and then she gasps.
“What is it?”
Mariana looks troubled. “Who has done this to her? Her mind is laced with enough barbs that they’re tearing her to pieces.”
“Can you fix it? Can you heal her?”
“Not here. I need my full circle of seven behind me.” Mariana bites her lip. “It’s bad, my prince. I think I can save her life but I don’t know… if there will be any long-lasting damage.”
Damage. The enormity of the situation hits me as I surge to my feet with Vi in my arms.
Adaia merely smiles. “Long live true love.”
“You fucking—”
