by Luna Pierce
But what if the truth was that it was a curse that rid him of our lives?
How could I be fated to such a horrible thing?
Fate.
A curse and fate, all wrapped into one.
“Do you know anything about Silas?” I blurt out.
She tilts her head. “Silas Harlow, vampire. Super grouchy, endless good looks, and cold exterior?”
“Yep, that Silas.” I laugh. “Do you know about his ancestry?”
“Not much, no.”
I frown. I was really hoping she would have known something about what he meant.
“Although, Harlow, that rings a bell now. If I’m not mistaken, the Harlows were fated to one true love, which is incredibly sad, considering they’re immortal. Most of them go decades and decades without finding their person, while others are fated to a mortal, merely to get a short glimpse at happiness.”
Fated—to one true love. Was that what Silas was referring to?
His words burn into my memory. ‘I’ve been waiting on you for an eternity.’
But no, that couldn’t be it, could it?
He was fated to have one true love, and I was cursed to have no love at all?
Could it be that we were a match made in Hell? The perfect storm.
And if it was, there had to be some way to fix this, and I’m determined to figure it out.
“Are there any texts about the Harlow family I can borrow?”
Abigail laughs. “First day of magic school and you’re already taking on a personal assignment.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I can give you what I have on the Oliver family, too. But because you’re still dorming in the human faction, you’ll have to reserve your research time to when you’re here in the shadow realm. I can try to move the schedule around to give you a bit more supervised free time, and I can help, if you’d like, too.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Abigail.”
“Absolutely. I’m a hopeless romantic, so if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”
We conclude our session a few moments later.
“Let’s keep to two-a-days this week to see how your energy levels bounce back. We don’t want to do too much too soon and have you crash on us. Meet me here prior to first tomorrow, and we’ll do after lunch, too. Sound good?”
“Yep,” I smile, grabbing on to her hand and muttering the words that send us back to the real world.
This time, Sydney is waiting for me on the other side. He and Abigail exchange pleasantries, and then we make our way into Ethics.
“Did everything go okay?” he asks with a hint of concern remaining.
“It went great. No funky side effects, energy levels seem consistent, learning more than I ever knew possible. I’m ready for tomorrow already.” The best part about it is I’m not lying. I really do feel fine, even though that surprises me, given how off my energy has been other times and how I was warned of the side effects. Maybe my tolerance is already changing, or I’m just more susceptible to the information.
Whatever it is, I’m eager for those texts on the Harlow and Oliver families so I can get cracking on figuring out whatever the hell is causing Silas to be in pain when he touches me.
I’m also growing impatient on last period coming so I can see Silas and tell him I’ve made a tiny bit of progress on our issue. I’ve never felt such a strong determination to solve a problem.
Sydney’s eyes lighten, flicks of green catching my attention. “That’s so good to hear. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’m glad you’re not feeling the effects of the glitch anymore.”
“Not at all; I can’t thank you enough for helping me through that. You’re a life-saver.”
If I’m not mistaken, Sydney blushes.
“Anything for you,” he confesses. “I’m sorry we got off to such a rocky start.”
“Me, too.”
He shifts to face the front of the room, and I stare at the base of his neck, the trail of dark hair covering the hem of his shirt.
If it weren’t for Sydney, none of this would be possible. I probably never would have acknowledged my magic; I wouldn’t have known to go to Abigail or Walker for help. I would have been too overwhelmed and shut off and in denial of the current of power running through my body. He sparked it to life with his touch, and then again and again. He awakened me, enlightened me, he showed me the way.
I will be forever grateful for his role in helping me uncover my true identity. The label of a freak no longer, I am an Oliver witch, a damn powerful one. Err—well, I will be, once I figure out how to harness and tap into that magic.
You better believe the first thing I’m going to do is figure out how to break this wretched curse Silas and I have been wrapped up in.
Even if the curse is mine, and mine alone, I will break it and free all of those who came before me, and all that come after. Silas just gives me that extra push to make it happen.
Fated to one true love.
Is it really possible that that’s true? I’m his one true love?
My memory flashes to the crackling between us, his face when he pushed it momentarily a little farther. His strength faltered, and it was heartbreaking to watch him struggle so immensely. His pain becomes mine, and the pain only fuels the desire to break the curse that much more.
My heart stutters with me thinking about my experience with Silas. The familiarity in his presence, the fierce pull we had. The urge to be near him, pressed against him. I needed to know everything about him but somehow felt like I already knew all there was to know. His gray-and-violet eyes told me a story of soul-crushing longing and sadness. But maybe it was that he really had been waiting a very, very long time for me to cross his path. If I was fated to him, was he fated to me? And what did that mean for Cameron, Deghan, and Sydney?
Chapter Twenty-One
The next few weeks fly by in a rush.
I’m able to build my tolerance to now have a shadow realm session three times per school day. Abigail and Walker are impressed with my ability to retain knowledge and have been confident with divulging more and more information about the supernatural world.
Abigail brings me old grimoires and spends extra time allowing me to scour the aging text once we’ve finished our lessons. I’ve made tiny progress but progress all the same.
Sydney has made sure I’ve had my morning latte without skipping a beat. He’s always there to greet me prior to Ethics and is my go-to guru for all things witchy not related to Silas.
Deghan adorably walks me to second period nearly every day, and we have our side-by-side bed post-school naps a couple times a week. He insists I attend every party and always save him a dance.
Cameron never fails to make me smile and is true to his word on keeping an eye on my drink. He’s proven to be reliable, hilarious, kind, super-hot, romantic, and such a great friend.
Silas is great at keeping his distance despite the insane pull between us. Most days, the only time I get to see him is during last period. On occasion, he’ll meet me on the outdoor patio with an old family grimoire to help me with my research. More frequently, though, I’ll feel his presence lurking from the shadows, watching me always, a deep longing filling the void.
The girls are great. Lillian and Ethan spend most of their free time together, which is incredibly cute. Kyra and Remi have a few guys on their radar but haven’t managed to call dibs just yet.
Brooke and I managed to spend an hour on the phone a couple times, and damn was it great to hear her voice and finally catch up—the amount that I’m allowed to fill her in on.
Mom is doing drastically better. Our relationship grows stronger with each passing day, and for once, I feel like everything might actually be okay. I haven’t gone home as much as I’d like to, but the urgency isn’t crippling now that I know the truth about my mom’s condition.
Allie continues to give me dirty looks every chance she gets, only shying away when Kyra scowls. It’s equal parts
hilarious and embarrassing. She clearly dislikes me because of the Silas thing, but according to fate, she never really stood a chance.
According to the curse, though, maybe neither do I.
“Um, Willow,” Abigail remarks, her tone alarming.
My heart speeds up. I stand from my desk and make my way to her swiftly, checking the ceiling reflexively to make sure the seams of the shadow realm are intact.
“You’re going to want to sit down,” she cautions.
I swallow the fear that rises and plant my butt firmly on the edge of the chair across from her. “Please tell me already, what is it?”
She bites her lip and abruptly slams the text she had her hand rested on, shut. “Actually, never mind.”
“No, no, no, no. Open it back up. Tell me what you found.” A ringing fills my ears, and a dull ache forms in my chest. “Abigail, please.”
She inhales through her nose and right back out through clenched teeth. “The text said, quo facinore mori manibus amori vacare.”
I tilt my head. “Translation? What does that even mean?”
She lowers her head. “It basically means, love must die at the cursed hands in order to be free.”
“At the… cursed hands. My hands… I must… I must kill the one I love to break the curse? That’s… no, no that can’t… can it?” The words stutter and stumble out of my mouth, and I’m desperately trying to decipher and make sense of this new information. To free the past and future Oliver witches, I have to kill someone. Someone I love. Someone who loves me. I shake my head. No. This can’t be.
Tears threaten to fall down my cheeks.
“Willow, we’ll keep researching. This isn’t solid, we don’t know for sure.”
She might be right, but I know, somehow, deep down, these are the cards I was dealt. The curse is solid and heady in my core, and I recognize it to be true, I feel it in my soul.
If someone has to die at my hands to break the curse, someone I love, I’ll make damn sure it’ll never happen. I won’t love. I won’t let anyone love me. I won’t feed the curse my power if I don’t allow them the opportunity to take it.
I shove my things back into my backpack and hastily walk toward the entrance. I turn back. “I’m going to cut out early. I’m sorry.” Without allowing her to protest, I mutter the incantation and head back to the regular realm early, knowing Sydney won’t be there yet.
Instead of waiting for him or heading to Ethics, I skip the rest of my classes for the day and go straight to the headmaster’s office.
A knock later, Walker answers the door. “Come on in, Willow. What can I help you with?”
“I’d like to transfer to the supernatural dorm.” I pause. “And if it’s possible, can we rearrange my schedule?”
He takes a breath. “Perhaps you should sleep on this decision? It seems rather sudden?”
“No,” I say, stone-faced, knowing I have to do this now before I change my mind. “Effective immediately would be preferred.”
“Okay then. You’re a bright young lady, and I trust you’ve thought this through. Your schedule will take a bit to work out, and I’ll need to have the specifics of your request, but…” He opens up a folder, glancing it over, and says, “Dorm W five is available.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The words exit my mouth, and the door opens, Abigail filing into the room. She catches my eye, and I half expect her to be mad, but she shows no signs of disapproval.
Walker speaks. “Willow here wants to switch her classes and dorm. Think that’s something you can help her with?”
“Absolutely,” she confirms, not questioning whatsoever.
“W five is still open, correct?” he asks her.
“Yep, all good.” She turns her attention to me. “You’ve had a rather rough day. Why don’t you go ahead and take your last few classes off?” She looks to Walker. “Is that okay with you?”
He nods. “I’m aware all of this has been a lot on you, Willow. We’ve put a lot of pressure on you in a short amount of time. Take the rest of the day. I can have one of the teacher assistants bring you dinner if you’d like.”
Why are they being so accepting of my demands? Whatever the reason, I’m glad I didn’t have to put up too much of an argument. I’m nearly bursting with emotion and need to be alone.
“That would be great, thanks.” I smile weakly.
“I can help you get your things from your dorm,” Abigail offers.
“That won’t be necessary, I don’t have much. Thank you, though.”
“I’ll drop your finalized schedule off when I make the changes.”
“Okay,” I mutter, walking to the door and leaving, not wanting to stay any longer and break down in front of them. I head straight up the stairs, thanking the universe that none of the girls are randomly in our room between classes. I grab my suitcase and duffel, ramming every stitch of my belongings inside hastily. It takes a few moments to shove everything in enough to transport them to the west wing.
I pause, soaking in the room and racking my brain on how I’m going to tell the girls about this sudden change. Only then do I remember I won’t have to.
Stepping away from my bag, I raise my hand and walk toward Lillian’s bed. “Moma prote forgodum,” I whisper and then head to Remi’s and Kyra’s sleeping stations. I don’t erase me completely, just the bits and pieces that would cause them to ask questions. Alone, I’ll retain everything we had, everything we were. They can’t be hurt by the things they don’t know, and they won’t miss what they don’t remember.
It’ll be better this way.
I can protect them this way.
Leaving my old dorm without another thought, I head straight to the west wing, reeling in the shift in energy along the corridor. I arrive at W five and find the door unlocked, so I step inside. To my surprise, the room is completely bare, minus the standard-issue beds and dressers. No decorations. No comforters or clothes strewn about. No sign of life whatsoever.
I take a further look around, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. Exhaling, I stop and lock my eyes onto the massively breathtaking curved window, then it dawns on me—all of the room number fives have this gorgeousness in common.
I drop my bags where I stand and drag myself to the windowsill seat. The area is cushy and has a built-in padded sitting area, perfect for reading, or simply sightseeing. I plop down and bask in the natural light. No longer able to fight back my emotions, I choke back a sob, and the tears finally make their way down.
I cover my mouth to hide my hysterics, unsure of why since I’m painfully alone. A sad reality I’ll have to come to terms with. I’ve always been afraid of this, but I never thought it would be because of my doing. Maybe my fear of abandonment was so deep-seated because subconsciously I knew I’d end up this way. I was cursed to this solitary life, and my fear was just to prepare me for what was to come.
A light knock startles me. I wipe furiously at my face and walk to the door.
“It’s me, Abigail. Can I come in?” Her tone is sympathetic and respectful.
I turn the handle and let her pass.
She breathes in the room and settles her look on me. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?”
My bottom lip puckers in response, and I bite the inside of my cheek to fend off more waterworks.
“Here’s your new schedule.” She holds out a paper. “And here is this.” She places a pen in my hand.
“A pen?” I say, confused.
“I spelled it with a cloaking spell. Just click the top,” she motions to the lever, “and you’ll be cloaked. I figured you’d want to avoid the people between classes who you’re trying to avoid during them. But make sure you do it in a private place, we don’t need to freak people out with disappearing acts.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” I hold the pen, turning it around and examining it. It’s merely a standard clickable pen, nothing special about it, except the magical cloaking spell.
&nbs
p; “Our schedule doesn’t change, just where we’re meeting, so look that over and make sure to adjust where you meet me. We still have work to do, don’t forget that.” She clutches the bag that’s hanging over her shoulder and hands it to me. “And here’s this. Now that your dorm has changed, you can keep these here for your reference. Some of the texts have to stay in the shadow realm, though, so not everything is in there.”
Taking the bag, I mutter, “Thanks,” and sniffle.
“Willow, please don’t give up. I get that this is all a bunch of shit, but you’re going to get through it—we’re going to get through it together.”
Her words are soft and generous but do nothing to soothe the gaping hole daring to consume me from within.
“Okay. I’ll go, but please reach out if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll see you prior to first Monday morning. Take the weekend for yourself, I’ll have food sent up.” She motions toward a corner in the room. “You have a full bathroom in here, too. Not sure if you’ve seen that.”
My eyes go wide. This room is perfect, and given any other instance, I’d be completely and absolutely giddy, but all I can really feel is gratefulness that I won’t be forced to leave my room for the next three days.
Abigail leaves, and I grab my pillow and blanket from my suitcase, trailing over to the oversized window like a child dragging their items along. I place them haphazardly and climb onto the sill’s seat, letting the warmth of my blanket do what it can to comfort me while I eye the seemingly endless forest in my line of sight, forcing away every last thought that comes to mind until I fade.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Although I manage to sleep away the rest of my Friday and most of my Saturday, I finally decide to get up and do something. I take a long, hot shower, cleansing away the remnants of tears left behind. Once dressed, I scan the food selections that have been brought up and settle on a salad. The taste is bland and boring and purely reminds me of how down I am. How can a bowl of lettuce and toppings cause someone to feel so bleh?
