Chapter 60 Braxton

Braxton

Well, my head fucking hurts. I can’t wait to make this bitch choke on her own blood. When I get Azalea back, if I find a single curl out of place, I’m going to break every bone in this witch’s body before I snap her neck, curse be damned.

I slowly open my heavy eyelids, trying to push back the unrelenting ache in the back of my skull. When I finally blink away some of the blurriness clouding my vision, I see Azalea sitting across from me. Her curls are mussed, and her makeup is smudged under her eyes as if she’s been crying.

My body instinctively moves to stand, but I feel a force push against me, holding me in place.

Looking around, I realize we’re seated at a large mahogany dining table.

I wriggle my wrists, trying to see if I can break free, but when I look down, I don’t see anything tying me to my chair, yet I’m still tethered to it.

I sigh. Of course, Dianthus used magical bindings.

It would be too easy if I were bound by something I could actually break free from.

“Don’t try to fight against it.” Azalea’s soft voice extinguishes the red haze taking over my instincts.

I look back up to see the sadness in her eyes that cracks my chest wide open. She looks so defeated, and I can’t help but feel like I did that to her. I quickly look her up and down, not seeing any restraints, but that doesn’t mean anything. She wouldn’t be able to see my restraints either.

“Are you okay?” My voice is strained from me trying to reel in the budding anger wishing to ignite inside me.

Azalea nods before dropping her gaze away from mine. She lifts her hand to wipe away a stray tear from her cheek, and I realize she must not be restrained after all.

“Azalea.” The sternness in my tone has picking her gaze up. “Are you restrained?”

She shakes her head.

“Leave.” My tone leaves no room for arguing. “Forget about me. Forget about the castle. Forget about this whole damned curse and leave. Now.” Every command I give her is laced with desperation.

“She won’t be doing any of that.” The sound of Dianthus’ voice grates against my ears.

“What did you do?” I hiss.

“You’re so easy to rile up, aren’t you?” Dianthus stretches her long limbs like a cat before taking her seat at the table.

I finally take a moment to look around. The room is dark, with minuscule orbs lighting the corners of the room and casting odd bits of light and shadows around everything else in it, which isn’t much.

Azalea and I are seated across from each other at the rectangular table that takes up the majority of the room.

Dianthus is perched at the head of the table, watching me as I try to see if there’s anything in this room to use to my advantage and escape.

There’s not. The stone walls are bare, the floor has a ruby red carpet strewn over it, and that’s pretty much it.

She crosses one leg over the other, which causes the slit in her silky cobalt blue dress to splay open and reveal her toned legs underneath. Her feline-like eyes glisten with mirth as she looks between the two of us. I fix my gaze on the crimson carpet again.

“Makes it easier to clean up if there’s any blood,” Dianthus answers my unasked question. I note that it’s the only thing with color in the room, and that fact, paired with her statement, makes my stomach turn.

I need to get Azalea out of here.

“Now, you might be wondering—”

“Why you’re such a conniving bitch?” I cut, curling my lip at her.

Her nostrils flare almost as aggressively as the anger in her eyes. “How about you no longer speak unless spoken to?” she snaps, flicking her wrist. I feel an invisible binding tightly secure itself around my mouth, stopping me from being able to speak.

My eyes narrow as my mouth forms into a hard line. Dianthus shoots me a wink and continues.

“As I was saying,” she pauses dramatically as if to further emphasize that I can’t interrupt her now. I grunt and roll my eyes. “You might be wondering why you’re here, sweet Azalea.”

Dianthus’s head twists to an unnatural angle as she feasts her attention on my Wildflower. Azalea’s throat constricts, but she holds her chin up higher, not giving Dianthus the satisfaction of a reply. That’s my girl.

“It doesn’t matter if you answer, little rose, I’m going to tell you anyway.”

I look back at Azalea and implore her to get up and run, to at least try to escape. She isn’t bound. An oversight I can only assume Dianthus made because she underestimated her. She has a chance of getting out of here.

“Stop looking at her like that you insufferable twit. She isn’t leaving because I told her if she tried to escape, I would personally guarantee that you wouldn’t make it out of here alive.”

I try to shout at Dianthus through my restraint, but it only comes out as gurgled nonsense. She claps her hands and laughs as she watches me struggle.

“This is so fun. I should have gagged you at all of our meetings for the past century.” Her gleeful laughter only emphasizes that this is all just some kind of game to her.

“Seeing you so helpless is too good, Braxton, especially when you were so close. You even caught my little spy, big help that he was.” She more grumbles the last part.

“I spent a century grooming Gravesley to be the perfect little lapdog. He was desperate for my approval, and willing to do anything to get it, including dragging Azalea right to me and dealing with the unknown consequences the curse my inflict on him for doing that.” She sighs heavily and shakes her head.

“That’s the funniest part, too. He was going to bring her to me, and you killed him, and then you sent her away anyway.

” Dianthus barks out a laugh. “You’re so vapid, I don’t know how you managed to drag the curse out for this long.

You see, under the rules of the curse, I couldn’t touch her in those castle walls, which is why Gravesley was so crucial to me.

He was really But once you allowed her to leave…

” She lets the words drift off, letting the truth that I was already painfully aware of sink in. This was all my fault.

“And you really were close. I’m not just saying that.

When she spread her gorgeous legs for you, I thought a profession of love couldn’t be far behind.

” She turned her attention to Azalea as she said her next words, “You see, feeling it wasn’t enough.

You needed to push past all that guilt and shame and say it.

Otherwise, you probably would have broken the curse a small handful of times. ”

My chest stalls. Azalea had fallen in love with me. More than once. She was in love with me now. I let my eyes drift over to hers and watch as hers widen with the realization that if she professes her love to me now this could all be over.

“Braxton, I—” Suddenly, Azalea is thrown back against her chair from the force that Dianthus uses to silence her.

“Not so fast, you little minx.” Dianthus gets up from her seat and stalks toward Azalea, whose hands immediately fly up to her mouth and begin clawing at the invisible gag. “I won’t have you ruining this for me. I’ve been waiting a very, very long time to do this.”

She rests her bony fingers on Azalea’s shoulders, holding her still in her chair. Her pointed plum nails dig into Azalea’s skin as she squeezes her.

“Besides, you sweet, stupid girl. Don’t you want to learn who you’re about to profess your love to?

You may think you know Braxton, and you do, but believe me, he is very much the monster you believe him to be, even before we made this little curse.

A curse, by the way, that you essentially became a pawn in. ”

Azalea shakes her shoulders, trying to free herself from Dianthus’s grip, but the witch only digs her fingers deeper into Azalea’s skin. I can see the anguish fill Azalea’s eyes, but she refuses to cower from Dianthus.

“Now, be a good pawn and keep your mouth shut, and I’ll remove the gag, okay? Do you promise you won’t say anything until I’m done talking?”

I shout around my gag, trying to tell Azalea not to fall for Dianthus’ trick. You never make a promise, oath, or agreement with a witch. That’s what I’ve learned the hard way.

Azalea nods, and my head slumps in defeat.

“Good girl.” Dianthus snaps her fingers, removing the magical gag around Azalea’s mouth.

I shake my head vehemently when Azalea looks to me, but she does what she’s best at and defies me.

“Braxton, I—” A choked gasp comes over her, as her voice is wrenched from her throat.

I watch as a beautiful golden light that looks like the mist covering a sunrise swirls out of Azalea’s mouth, through the air, and lands in the witch’s palm.

Dianthus tsks, shaking her head back and forth. “You should’ve done as you promised. Now, this will be mine until we’re done talking.”

Azalea grabs her throat and tries to shout, but it’s a futile attempt.

Nothing can be heard besides the air she expels from her lungs.

She made a promise, and the witch had the consequences in mind that she didn’t need to verbalize for the promise to be in effect.

Now, she has Azalea’s voice until she’s done with whatever the fuck any of this is.

My eyes scream my apology at her. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for not being able to tell you about the promise.

I’m sorry for ever agreeing to this curse.

I’m sorry for getting you roped into all of this madness with me.

I’m sorry for not letting you die peacefully.

I’m sorry for not letting you go. I’m so, so sorry.

“Now, you might be wondering why I’m picking on our sweet little Prince Braxton.

” I garble my response around my invisible gag.

“And despite what I’m sure he would leave you to believe, I’m not some heartless bitch that likes to draft up curses for fun.

Curses are actually worse for the caster than the castee, so believe me when I tell you this was all worth it for me. ”

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