When we reach the passenger side, I finally manage words. “So… Veda Bellamy. Five hundred years ago.” I swallow hard. “First recorded curse-bearer.”
Slade meets my gaze, eyes burning with something unreadable—dark, thoughtful, almost protective—but there’s something else beneath it. Something older, more wary. “And we’re going to find out what happened to her,” he says.
“Why?” My voice comes out smaller than I intend, trembling at the edges.
He takes one slow step closer, boots sinking slightly into the snow. The wind curls around us, cold biting at my cheeks, but his presence is warm—too warm—like he’s radiating heat from somewhere beneath his skin.
“Because whatever touched her bloodline,” he murmurs, “is touchingyounow.”
It’s not enough. Not anymore. I cross my arms tightly. “That’s not an answer.”
His gaze flicks away—just for a heartbeat—but it’s the first time I’ve seen him look… unsure.
“Slade.” I take a step toward him. “You dragged me out here. You inserted yourself into my life. You keep talking about bonds and curses and fate. If you know more than you’re admitting—start talking.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, not amused. “Careful, little witch.”
“No,” I snap. “No more warnings. No more riddles. Tell me the truth. Why do you care what happens to my family? Why does any of this matter to a demon who wasn’t supposed to answer my summoning in the first place?”
He goes very still. The snowflakes drifting between us pause in the air like they’re waiting. “I didn’t say itdidn’tconcern me,” he murmurs.
“That’s not an explanation.”
He exhales slowly, fog curling from his lips. “Because your bloodline didn’t just create a curse, Piper.” His eyes lift to mine, piercing, ancient. “It broke something first.”
A cold knot forms low in my stomach. “Broke… what?”
He takes another step closer, the distance between us shrinking until the air feels electric. “Five centuries ago,” he says softly, “Veda Bellamy wasn’t just the first to carry the curse. She was bound. Promised. Marked to another.”
My breath catches. “A mate?”
“An intended,” Slade corrects. “Magic chose for them. Fate sealed it.”
“And she refused?” I whisper.
His jaw tightens. “…Yes.”
“So the curse wasn’t just born from a Bellamy,” I say slowly, pieces clicking into place. “It was born from betrayal.”
His silence is confirmation. I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “And the person she betrayed—who were they?”
Slade’s eyes darken, the green deepening until it’s nearly black. The wind gusts around us, stirring his coat, ruffling my curls. He leans in, lowering his voice to a gravel-soft whisper that seems to echo with something older than language. “My ancestor.”
The world tilts. For a heartbeat, all I hear is the rush of my own pulse. “You…” I breathe. “Your line was her original match.”
“Yes,” he answers.
“And when she rejected that bond—”
“The curse manifested,” Slade finishes. “On her. On her descendants. And—by extension—on mine.”
The revelation sinks into my bones like ice water. “So you’re not helping me,” I say, voice thin. “You’re helping yourself.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “It’s both.”
“No. You’re using me.”
He steps closer, heat rolling off him. “If I intended to use you, Piper, you’d already be mine.”
