I shake my head. “Not necessarily. Once magic is tethered, it’s able to live on through the tether itself even if the mage that conjured it dies.”
Braxton nods his head, processing everything. Part of me is terrified that I’m sharing too many of the secrets that I’ve worked so hard to keep buried, but another part of me, a clearly illogical part, feels a sense of trust toward him, which is why I continue.
“There are some old magic wielders who were able to bargain with the gods, and they put all of their magic source into one object that they then pull from whenever they want to use their magic. It’s almost like it’s their ultimate power source for their magic, so instead of one spell being linked to a flower that can then wither and die, taking the magic with it, they would have their power source, and then the flower would act as a booster for the spell.”
Braxton nods again, creases forming between his brows. “And you just read all of this?”
“Well, since early this morning.” I feign nonchalance.
“Incredible. You’re incredible.”
My stomach twists at the compliment, and I hate that my body reacts that way. This is Braxton. No matter what pretty words he’s able to spin into a sentence, it’s still Braxton, though the exuberant expression he’s wearing does make him appear different from the man I’m used to encountering. His pale skin has a lively flush to it, and his perfectly chiseled features are drawn up with a sense of excitement. Even his typically dark eyes seem to have a light inside them, making them appear brighter.
I choose not to respond, not trusting myself in what I might say.
“I always forget how smart you are.”
I turn my face away so he can’t see the way my brows knit with confusion. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him making a comment like this. Sometimes he stares at me like he knows me. Like he really knows me, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. It’s unnerving.
I watch Braxton close the book, deciding he doesn’t need to read more, and excuses himself, saying he has other business to attend to.
I watch him go before my eyes drift back to the book, and I think about how if he read the next sentence, he would see that in order to be cursed in the first place, you have to invite the magic into your life, which leaves me with one more question about Braxton’s curse that I know he won’t answer.
Why would he willingly invite himself to be cursed?
38
Azalea
Ipullmycurlsup to the top of my head and secure it with a strip of cloth. We’ve been at this for a week now, and besides what we discovered on the first day, we haven’t learned anything new about curses.
I thought I spent a lot of time reading in the library before, but it’s nothing like the hours that Braxton and I have poured into it as of late. I’ve long since swapped the gorgeous gowns that I used to wear every day for a more relaxed style. It’s not that I don’t love the dresses, but I learned very quickly that the boning of the corsets does not pair well with being hunched over a book all day.
While I’m not learning anything new about curses, I am learning a lot about Braxton that I didn’t know. For starters, he has an insatiable sweet tooth. I reached over and took a bite of the cookie he brought in for himself one day, and I thought he was going to obliterate me right there on the spot. He also, more notably, is not a dog person, which isn’t a huge surprise given that he’s tried to kick Luna out of the library almost every daythis past week. What I didn’t expect to discover was that he loves cats.
On one of the days when he was being particularly barbaric to Luna, I told him that as long as I’m in the castle, it’s going to be filled with animals, and he told me he wouldn’t mind if I brought in a cat and left the dog outside.
I didn’t expect to hate learning more about Braxton. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted to find bits and pieces out about him to use against him, but now it’s done something completely unexpected. It’s made him more human to me. And that is something that can’t happen.
“Have you seen this?” Braxton asks.
I crane my neck to look at the book he has sprawled in front of him. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, knowing nothing good can come from letting myself get any closer to him. That became painfully apparent when he tossed me over his shoulder, and the act practically drenched my underwear.
“What does it say?” I ask, finally giving up on being able to read his book from where I’m sitting.
With a smirk, Braxton reaches forward, grabbing the front leg of my chair, and drags it closer to him. His rich, leathery scent immediately engulfs me, bringing me back to the night we kissed.
Sky’s Divine that fucking kiss. I’ve tried to push it from my mind every day. I’ve tried to imagine kissing Phillip instead. I’ve tried to weigh my conscious down with guilt at knowing I have an amazing fiancé who is waiting for me back at home, but nothing is working. I can’t stop thinking about how perfect Braxton’s body felt molded against mine, or the sensation that ran through me at the feeling of his soft lips skating across my skin. It makes me despise myself. It makes me despise him.
“Azalea?” His breath tickles my ear, and I have to physically stop the shiver that wants to run down my spine.
My eyes refuse to focus on the words in front of me, and I can feel him lean closer.
“Something distracting you?” I look up into his gloating smile and feel the comfortable familiarity of a flaming anger rise inside me.
He’s doing this on purpose. He’s messing with my head. Of course, just like everything else, this is all a game to him. My life is a fucking game to him. I don’t know what his goal is yet, but I know it can’t be good. I never should’ve agreed to help him.
Scooting my chair back, I stand from the table. “What’s this game you’re playing?” I snap.
