Chapter 17
Salem
The storm had finally passed, but the sexual tension between Heresy and me still hung in the air like the lingering scent of rain. My lips were swollen from our kiss, my body still humming with the memory of his hands on me, but my mind was racing. This was crazy, dangerous, and so unlike anything I’d ever let myself fall into before.
Despite my best efforts to ignore it, there was something about this place, this old, crumbling farmhouse, that felt like it was dragging us deeper into something we couldn’t understand. Darker shadows, heavier air, walls closing in.
I wandered around the main room, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling gnawing at my gut. There was something off here, something more than just the fact that Heresy and I were stuck together in this place, playing with fire.
As I walked around the room, the creaking wooden floors drew my attention to a dusty old chest in the corner. It looked out of place—too old, too ancient for the rest of the house if that were possible.
I walked over to it, brushing the dust off the top with my hand. The wood was rough, the iron latch rusted. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered to myself, kneeling down to open it.
Heresy appeared behind me, silent as ever. I felt his presence before I even saw him, his dark, brooding energy always lurking in the background. “What did you find?”
I glanced up at him, my fingers fumbling with the latch. “I don’t know. Something... old.”
The latch gave way with a groan, and the chest creaked open. Inside, there were bundles of yellowed papers, old books, and what looked like a journal, its leather cover cracked and worn.
I pulled the journal out, flipping through the pages, the musty smell of age filling my nostrils. The handwriting was jagged and hurried, like whoever had written it was in a desperate rush.
“Looks like someone was keeping secrets,” I said, my voice low.
Heresy crouched down next to me, his eyes narrowing as he looked over my shoulder. “What does it say?”
I started reading aloud, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.
“‘They call me a witch. They say I have cursed this land. But it is not a curse of my making. It is their hatred, their jealousy, that has damned them all. My love was forbidden, but it was real, and for that, I will make them suffer.’”
A chill ran down my spine, and I stopped, glancing at Heresy. “This sounds...familiar.”
He nodded, his jaw clenched. “Keep reading.”
I swallowed hard and continued.
“‘They cannot understand what it is to love someone so deeply that it defies all rules, all reason. They cast me out, damned me to this place, but my curse remains. Anyone who dares love here, who dares defy their fate, will suffer as I have. Forbidden love will be punished.’”
I slammed the journal shut, my heart thumping in my chest.
“This is bullshit, right?” I asked, looking at Heresy for some kind of reassurance. “I mean, this has nothing to do with us. It’s just some crazy woman’s ramblings.”
Heresy didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on the journal in my hands. “Maybe. Or maybe this place is trying to tell us something.”
I scoffed, tossing the journal back into the chest. “What? That we’re doomed because we kissed? Because of well, everything else? Because we feel something we shouldn’t?”
Heresy rose to his feet, his hands tightly balled at his sides. “Salem, this is more than just a kiss. You know that. Whatever’s happening between us, it’s dangerous. And maybe... maybe this place is warning us.”
I stood up too, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to keep my voice steady. “So what? We stop? We ignore whatever this is because some old ghost is pissed off about her past?”
He shook his head, his face unreadable. “I don’t know. But we need to be careful. This isn’t just about us.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. He was right. There was something bigger at play here. Something darker.
But I wasn’t afraid. Not of the curse, not of the danger. The only thing that scared me was how much I wanted him.