Chapter 57

Ruby

As if I wasn’t already confused enough before, my date with Atwood only made it worse. For the first time in ages, we actually spent the evening together and it was… really nice. Over the course of the night, he gradually started to look less gaunt and haggard, and actually started to look like himself again.

My wolf was practically in a daze throughout the entire date just from being around Atwood. I know that she wants to mark him more than anything, and admittedly I almost let her, but the fear of the curse still sticks in the back of my head constantly. If I mark Atwood and die, I’ll be leaving Tamara behind. I don’t know what Alice and the Queen will do to my sister if I’m not around to stop them, and if Atwood shifts into his wolf form for an extended period of time out of grief like he did with Vivian then he won’t be around to protect her, either.

Furthermore, there’s something else that I just can’t shake. The thought of Atwood with another woman before me… It doesn’t sit well with me. Will he ever truly look at me as his mate, or will he always prefer his first true love over me?

After our date, Atwood took me back to the castle. By the time we returned, it was nearly midnight and the castle was quiet. Atwood offered to walk me back to my room, but I declined. I needed to think.

As I wake up now the morning after our date, the realization hits me: my birthday is only three days away. That means that I’ll be running away very soon.

What was once excitement for getting away from this castle and starting a new life with Tamara and Cayden is now nothing but anxiety with a twinge of regret. My past few interactions with Atwood have made my feelings for him resurface, making whatever feelings I had for Cayden after our kiss fade into the background. Maybe it’s just my wolf talking, but I suddenly have a stronger curiosity about this curse. What if there’s a way to break it before we mate?

I sleepily roll over in bed. As I do so, my bag enters my field of view. The book that Robert gave me pokes out of it, beckoning to me, and without thinking I stand and walk over to the chair where it sits. I pull it out of my bag and sit down on the chair, opening the book.

It almost feels as though I fall into a daze as I read the book. Each chapter is on a different witch: her life, her powers, and the curses that she cast on people who crossed her path. I start flipping more fervently through the pages, hoping to find something, anything, on a generational curse befalling the Lycan ancestry, but there’s nothing beyond the story of the berry that killed the Lycan King’s wife at the final summit.

“The Dreaded Witch Estelle was sentenced to death following her alliance with the treacherous Bear King, thus breaking all of her known curses,” the book reads.

Before I can read more, however, I’m alerted to the sound of my door creaking. I jump up from my chair with a start, dropping the book.

Edith stands in the doorway.

Her eyes flicker down to the book, then briefly back to me before she lunges for it.

She’s quick, and her sudden appearance took me by surprise, so she beats me to it before I can snatch the book away.

“Hmm,” she says in an arrogant tone, “what’s this?”

“Give that back, Edith!” I shout, lunging for her in an attempt to grab the book from her. She dodges me, however, and walks across the room as she flips through the pages.

“The Dreaded Witches,” Edith says with a chuckle. “How ridiculous. You actually believe this garbage?”

“It’s not garbage,” I answer with a growl. “It’s research.”

Edith throws her head back and laughs abrasively. “Research for what, exactly?”

My face turns red as I stammer to come up with an answer. My struggle only makes Edith laugh harder as she walks toward the door with the book still in her hands.

“I’m so giving this to the Queen,” she says. Before I can stop her, she bolts out the door and disappears down the hallway.

“Fine,” I mutter to myself as I slam and lock the door. “Go ahead and show the Queen. I’ll be gone in a few days anyway.”

The next morning, I get ready for my tutoring session with Robert and head over to the library.

However, when I enter the library, he’s not there. Standing in his spot in front of the chalkboard is none other than Alice. She holds a wooden switch in her hand and taps her palm with it impatiently.

“You’re late,” she says as soon as I enter.

“Where’s Robert?” I reply warily.

Alice smirks. “He’s fallen ill. Now sit down so we can start your lesson.”

I do as I’m told and sit at my desk, taking out my notebook. Alice slams a thick book down on the desk so hard that it smashes my poor fingers, causing me to yelp in pain.

“You’re going to be reading Macbeth,” Alice says with a sneer. “Open it up and start reading.”

For the entire two hours that would normally be my lesson, Alice stares at me unblinkingly with her arms folded across her chest while I silently read Macbeth. I can’t help but wonder why she’s making me read this play about witches, prophecies, and overthrowing a king. Alice never does anything without an ulterior motive, and I sense that the Queen has something to do with this. Is this some sort of warning, or is it a threat?

Nearing the end of my session, Alice begins to pace uncomfortably while I continue reading. I look up at her discreetly while she paces, then I turn the next page.

Something is sticking out from between the pages. Glancing at Alice again to make sure she’s not looking, I pull it out.

It’s a tiny scrap of paper. On it, there is even tinier handwriting that I recognize immediately as belonging to Vivian.

“Marisa Elder,” it reads. It seems like someone’s name. The page it was stuck into is the part in the play in which Macbeth receives the new prophecies from the three witches. Is this a hint at a witch’s name? Perhaps it’s the name of the witch who might have something to do with the curse?

I quickly pocket the scrap of paper before Alice turns back around, then continue acting as though I’ve been reading.

Alice looks at her watch before walking over to me and yanking the book away.

“Hey!” I say annoyedly. “I was right in the middle of a paragraph.”

“You can finish your paragraph tomorrow,” Alice says. “I expect you to write ten pages on what you’ve learned so far, too.”

“Ten pages?” I say, standing abruptly from my chair. “I can’t do that by tomorrow!”

Alice looks at her watch again and shrugs. “If you start now, you might get it done in time.”

With a smirk, Alice floats out of the room, leaving me alone.

I may be unsure about my feelings when it comes to running away, but one thing is for certain: I’ll be glad to get away from Alice.

Later, once I’ve written five entire pages on Macbeth and decide that I need to take a break before I go completely insane, I head out of the library to walk around a bit and stretch my legs. The sun has already gone down, casting the corridors of the castle in a somber dark blue light.

As I’m walking, Atwood’s study comes into view. The door is wide open, spilling light out into the dark hallway.

Remembering the scrap of paper with the name on it, my curiosity gets the best of me and I enter Atwood’s study. He’s sitting hunched over some papers and doesn’t see me come in, so I knock lightly on the door. He jerks his head up annoyedly, but his face softens when he sees me. He still looks much better than he did yesterday before our date. Does my presence really help him that much?

“Ruby,” he says with a gentle smile, setting his pen down. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I… I was just in the library,” I say, still standing in the doorway as I try to come up with a way to ask about the name.

“Well, come in,” Atwood says, standing from his desk and walking over to the two chairs in front of his fireplace. He gestures for me to sit, and once I do, he sits down as well. I can smell his scent from here and it makes my heart flutter, but I suppress my feelings.

“I wanted to ask you something,” I say after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“Anything,” Atwood says, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair, his orange eyes focused on me.

“Well…” My heart rate quickens. Will Atwood get upset if I bring up this person’s name? “I saw a name in a book that interested me,” I say quietly. “It was… Marisa Elder.”

Atwood’s eyes widen. He stands abruptly from his chair with a frown. “In which book did you see this name?”

I panic a bit, so I make up a lie. “It was only mentioned briefly in a history book. I was just curious about it.”

With a sigh, Atwood walks over to the fire and stares into it with his back turned to me.

“You’ll probably figure it out anyway, so I’ll just tell you,” he says with a hint of disdain in his voice. “Marisa Elder is a witch.”

“She’s still alive?” I ask.

Atwood nods. “Yes. She’s… She’s the same witch who helped me find you.”

Finally, I understand why Atwood has been waiting for me to mark him. It’s common knowledge that anyone who finds their mate through the help of a witch has to be marked by their mate due to the magic used to find them. If the person who hired the witch tries to be the one to mate, it won’t work.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Atwood says, turning to look at me. “I hope you understand.”

I nod, averting my gaze to the floor and biting my lip.

“Thank you,” I say, standing and walking to the door. “I was only curious.”

Atwood says nothing. He turns back to the fire, which allows me to slip quietly from the room.

As I walk back to the library to continue my paper, the information that Atwood shared with me swirls around in my mind. Why was Atwood so desperate to find me so quickly that he used a witch? And if he only used her abilities to find me, then why was her name stuck in Macbeth written in Vivian’s handwriting?

I have to see if I can find Marisa Elder before my birthday. Maybe she knows something about the curse.