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“Sort of. He’s immortal,” I clarify. “He was cursed by Morgana—”
“You’re that Marrok? Of Cadbury?”
“Aye,” he answers warily.
“What do you know about his curse?” I demand. “What is the symbol…ah, in the painting you posed for during the Regency?”
My father cuts a questioning gaze to Marrok, as if seeing him in a whole new light. “The symbol in that painting is only meaningful if you’ve seen Morgana’s Book of Doomsday. You have seen it, yes?”
I don’t answer, but the memory of Marrok gripping the book and snarling that I must uncurse him roars through my head.
Bram touches my cheek and closes his eyes.
I rear back. “What are you doing?”
He smiles, triumph glinting in his mischievous eyes.
Marrok tugs me away from them both. “She knows naught.”
“Of course.” But Bram’s smile gloats.
Marrok lunges at him. “Keep your bloody hands off her, and stop trying to read her mind.”
Richard clears his throat. “Bram’s abilities in this area may require touch, but anyone with a true telepathic skill now knows that you have the Book of Doomsday. I suspected it anyway. Although legend says that the man who paid to have the book stolen vanished from this earth for his sins. Clearly, that is untrue.”
Marrok shoots my father a stone-cold glare.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Richard assures. “But there are others at the party who may have heard Olivia’s thoughts.”
“Fix it,” Marrok snaps at Bram.
“I can’t alter people’s memories. The damage is done.”
My father nods. “You’ll have to learn not to broadcast your thoughts, my dear. Anyone nearby who’s telepathic now knows you’re happy to meet me, furious with the mate you didn’t realize you had, and are trying to break his hex with the Doomsday Diary.”
Mortification rushes from my toes to my hairline.
“No need to be embarrassed,” Bram assures. “You’re young and untrained. You’ll learn—”
“Not at your hand.” Marrok pushes me behind him and bares his teeth. “You promised if we arrived that you would tell us what you have learned from your grandfather’s journals. We have kept our end of the bargain; now keep yours.”
“As you wish. According to Merlin’s writings, the symbol represents the key, which is made up of two halves that fit together.”
“Where are these keys?”
“Legend says Morgana gave them to her son before Merlin banished her. No one knows what he did with them. They’ve been missing for a thousand years.”
Richard pipes in. “We have a more pressing matter now. Marrok, you were Arthur’s greatest warrior, maybe the greatest warrior of all time. But Olivia needs magical protection from Mathias, and you’re helpless to give it to her.”
“Helpless?” Marrok’s face fills with venom. “I protect what is mine. I may not be magical, but thanks to your ancestor, I am invincible.”
“Your curse may prevent you from being killed, but it won’t stop the Anarki from immobilizing you, then taking the diary—and Olivia. If you ever see her again, she won’t be the same. What Mathias can do to a woman…” Richard shudders.
“I am aware.” Marrok clenches his fists.
“Then let her come with me. I know how the Anarki work. I can protect—”
“Olivia needs me, or she will perish. Before I understood that, she nearly did. She will not endure such hell again.”
