CHAPTER TWELVE
I carefully opened the spellbook, my fingers grazing the pages with a delicate touch as if the very act of opening it might unleash something dark.
The book felt ancient beneath my fingers, the weight of its memory pressing down on me, and I focused all of my energy on making sure the spells didn’t trigger anything sinister.
My magic bubbled beneath my skin as I muttered a soft incantation, ensuring the book’s dark power stayed dormant.
I was used to summoning loved ones, family members, lovers, friends… not this. This was death in all the most heinous ways. This was the book that ultimately killed my father.
Across the room, Lucien was pacing. Back and forth.
His quick footsteps echoed off the walls, and each step seemed to tap away at my concentration, my thoughts drifting from the ancient language I was trying to decipher.
I could feel the annoyance growing in my chest. He hadn't said a single word in the time that I’d been pouring over my translation book, but at least his suspicion of me seemed to have faded… just a little… for now.
“Lucien,” I muttered under my breath, though I didn’t take my eyes off the page. “If you’re going to pace like a caged animal, could you do it somewhere else?”
His steps faltered for a moment, and I could hear the bitter amusement in his voice when he replied, “I am a caged animal, if you recall.”
I glanced up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Don’t you need to rest or something after using all that energy to transport my bag?”
Lucien grinned, the familiar wicked glint returning to his eyes. “I thought you knew things about ghosts?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to stay focused. But that grin, there was something about it, something that tugged at me in ways I didn’t want to admit. It distracted me more than I’d like.
“Of course I do,” I muttered. I lifted my gaze to him, a playful glint in my own eyes now. “But, you’re not… normal.”
His footsteps paused for a moment then slowly came closer. “True,” he said, that velvety smooth voice close to my ear now.
I gave him a pointed look, irritated yet amused at how well he seemed to push my buttons. “What are you doing? ”
He paused, as if considering my words carefully. “I’m merely trying to keep myself entertained while you play with fire,” he said, stepping even closer. “Besides, I thought you liked my company.” His voice dropped to something softer, more intimate.
I could feel the air around us shift, a tingle running down my spine. I wanted to snap something snarky back at him, but instead, I felt my pulse quicken, the words catching. I cleared my throat and turned back to the book.
I flipped through several pages, trying to ignore Lucien’s warm body pressed so close to mine as I continued to translate the context. I tried to push away the acidic guilt that hung in my chest as my eyes roamed over my grandmother’s death book.
My breath caught in my throat as I traced the delicate, curling script with my fingertips.
The words, ancient and foreboding, pulsed with an energy that stirred something deep within me.
My magic hummed in response, an undeniable confirmation.
This was it. This was the spell that had bound Lucien to the painting, that had cursed him to linger in this half-existence.
I read faster, my heart pounding. The spell was intricate, woven with dark magic meant to trap a soul between the veil of life and death. My fingers trembled as I reached the final lines, the cruel revelation sinking in.
“Lucien,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He leaned closer to peer over my shoulder. “What is it?”
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I forced myself to say it aloud. “You’re not dead.”
Silence stretched between us.
Slowly, I turned to face him, my eyes locking onto his. There was a flicker of something in them—hope, disbelief, fear.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice measured, but I could hear the tension beneath it.
I glanced back at the page, my vision blurring slightly as I forced myself to focus. “You’re stuck in between. You exist here, bound to the painting, but your body…” My breath shuddered out as I reached the final words. “Your body is still here. Somewhere in the castle. In eternal sleep.”
Cursed to dream in eternal sleep, until a heart he shall keep.
My grandmother’s story was right here on these pages.
It wasn’t a story at all, but the words to bind the curse.
All those years, she’d tucked me into bed with the story…
no, the curse. For what? Why had she engraved this curse on me?
Why had she shared it? Had she been the one to cast the spell?
Had Serena convinced her to open this book again, to forego her own morals and rules ?
An image of my mother’s undying corpse flashed through my memory. Skeletal fingers gripping my father’s throat as he fought to stay alive. His eyes met mine just before he gave in, letting death consume him. It had been the only way to release her from the bond, send her back into her grave.
Tears burned behind my eyes, a hot, tight pain filling my throat as I forced the memory away. I kept my gaze downcast so Lucien wouldn’t see the pain… the secret I was hiding. If he knew that this was my grandmother’s book… that my family had caused his curse…
I swallowed. What would he do?
Lucien took a step back as if the weight of the revelation had physically struck him. His jaw tightened, and when I was finally able to look at him, I could see the struggle in his expression, the desire to believe it, the fear of what it could mean.
“My body…” he murmured, almost to himself. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “It’s here.”
“Yes.” My voice was steady, though inside, I felt anything but. “If we find it… if we break the curse…”
He exhaled sharply and turned away, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “I—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as if the very idea was too much to grasp.
I understood. The thought of him being trapped like this, of his body lying somewhere forgotten, sent a sick feeling twisting through me, even more so now that I knew it had been my grandmother who had caused it.
“We need to find it,” I said, determination hardening my voice, guilt overwhelming me.
He turned back to me then, his gaze searching mine. A shadow of concern crossed his face before he spoke.
“How do we break the curse?”
I wrung my hands in my lap. He was right. I scanned the page again, but some of the text was missing, perhaps faded with time and age… or perhaps removed on purpose. Either way, there was nothing about how to break the curse. Only the vague riddle in the curse itself.
I smiled reassuringly, hoping it was convincing, but before I could speak, a low, deep groan echoed through the walls, the very stones of Ravenspire seeming to shudder beneath our feet.
A rush of cold air swept through the library, extinguishing the lone candle I had lit.
Shadows stretched unnaturally, shifting as if they had minds of their own.
I stiffened, my pulse hammering. “I think she knows we’ve found something.”
Lucien’s gaze snapped to mine, his expression sharpening. Then, as if to confirm my suspicion, the castle trembled again—books rattled on the shelves, dust rained down from the rafters, and a deafening hiss slithered through the air, just beyond the edge of hearing .
Lucien stepped closer, his presence grounding even as the air thickened with something unseen. “We need to move,” he said, voice low. “Now.”
I nodded, grabbing the spellbook and clutching it tightly to my chest. The moment my fingers closed around it, the whispering grew louder, turning into a chorus of soft, breathy voices—almost as if the book itself was warning me.
Or taunting me.
A sharp crack sounded above us. I barely had time to react before Lucien grabbed my arm, yanking me back just as a section of the ceiling gave way, crashing down where I had stood only seconds before.
Dust and debris filled the air, but through the swirling haze, I saw something shift in the darkness beyond the doorway.
A figure.
Tall. Waiting. Watching.
The air turned freezing, the shadows curling like living things.
Lucien tensed beside me. “We’re not alone.”
He moved fast. Before I could react, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against his chest.
“Lucien…”
“I guess you’ll have your request granted after all,” he murmured against my ear, amusement lacing his voice. Then, softer, “Hold on tight.”
The world lurched, and I felt as though I were being wrenched from my body. The air turned frigid, the pressure around us shifting in a way that made my stomach swoop. It was as if we were falling through nothingness, a great, endless void stretching beneath my feet.
I buried my face against his chest, gripping onto him with everything I had.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
We were frozen, suspended in a dark, swirling space. It was hazy, tendrils of onyx smoke hovered around us. Time stood still.
I pulled back just enough to look up at Lucien who was smiling down at my confusion. “Where are we?” I asked, my voice seeming to echo faintly in the hollow space.
“The void,” he said simply, dimple peeking out from his crooked grin.
“I don’t understand,” I mused softly, looking around us at the cavernous blackness.
“When I move between spaces, I come here first,” he explained. “I can stay or continue through.”
My brows furrowed. “But when you brought me my bag, you were gone for less than a second.”
He laughed, the rich sound bouncing through the void. “That’s because time doesn’t exist here. Nothing exists here. We could stay here forever yet, when I bring you back, only a moment will have passed. ”
It made sense now why he had no idea how long he had been in the void. I nodded at my own thought.
“And when you leave… at sunrise I mean. This is where you exist until I summon you?”