Page 13 of Cursebreaker

“He’s not denying it.” Titus cocks his head. “Why are you?”

“He’s sick,” I shoot back. “You both are.”

“And you’re going to save us, is that it?” Titus rolls his eyes. “Even if you manage to obtain the cure, you’ll never change who we are—killers, the both of us. It’s about time you accept that.”

My fists tighten, my nails digging into my palms. “No matter how many times you say it, it doesn’t make it true.”

Something wicked dances in his eyes. “And what will make it true? Will it be when dear, sweet William rips Margaret’s throat out? Or when he tears Lewis’s head from his shoulders?” He runs his tongue over his teeth, curling his fingers around the iron bars—close enough to reach for me if I were to take a single step in his direction. He hisses, his cool facade slipping, the mask of the indifferent prince giving way to the impassioned pirate. “What’s it going to take?”

I open my mouth to argue, but—

“He’s right,” Will says quietly.

I turn to face him as the first tear falls. “No, he’s an idiot.”

Will’s face crumples. “You shouldn’t have to forgive me,” he whispers, his voice raw. “All I’ve ever done is cause you pain.” He grinds his jaw, eyes shut tight. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

I wipe the tears from my face, furious at Titus for getting a rise out of me—furious at myself for letting him. “You would have stopped,” I say, taking a step toward Will. “And I do forgive you.”

Titus barks a laugh, and my heart skips a beat.

“Ah, there it is.” Titus’s voice drops to a low, gravelly whisper. “It all makes sense now.”

I turn to face him again, advancing, closer than I was before. “What?”

Titus’s gaze flits across my cheek, his breath shallow. “You forgive him because you want someone to forgive you.” He smiles, slow and cruel, like he’s just discovered a secret. “Curse or not, you’re a killer, too, Aster—through and through. And you’re afraid that when all of this is over, everyone you love will finally see you for who you truly are: a monster, just like us.”

I think of the voice, commanding me to spill blood. I know you secretly crave the thrill of battle, Titus had said. You love to watch as your enemies bleed at your feet.

“He knows it, too,” Titus says, cutting a glance over my shoulder. “Isn’t that right, William?”

I stumble backward, but when I turn to face Will, his gaze glows with gilded light, fixed on my cheek. I lift my hand, as if to touch my face, when I see the four half-moon punctures where my nails broke flesh and the blood smeared across my palm.

Will bites his bottom lip. He pushes off from the bars, runs his hand over his jaw, his eyes flaring with scarlet light.

“Just go,” he grinds out, his voice rough. “Gabriel, please. Get her out of here.”

Gabriel takes a step toward me, but I pierce him with a look that stops him in his tracks.

Will sniffs, covering his face with his hands. “Your blood…” he cries. “You can’t trust me, Aster. I can’t go with you to the Burning Lands. I can’t risk—”

“You’re the only one who knows how to slip past the barricades and into the Burning Lands without getting caught,” I say, cutting him off a bit sharper than I intend. “We can’t do this without you.”

It’s strange to think almost an entire month has passed since he proposed to me on the boat—since he promised to fight for us, for our future, and insisted I wait to give him an answer until after we’ve found a cure. I know he only says all this because he’s afraid of what he might do under the influence of his curse. But I’m tired of being pushed away—tired of watching Will suffer under the weight of all the burdens he insists on carrying alone. “You’re coming with us,” I say. “For Annie.”

“Aster—” he starts, but I unsheathe my dagger, and the sudden movement seems to silence him.

“Don’t worry about me,” I tell him, twirling the dagger even as tears stream down my face. “If you try something like that again, I’ll put you down myself.”

I start back up the steps, my head light, heart pounding, but I think I hear Will chuckle, the sound low and pitiful and heartbreaking—think I hear him say, “I’m counting on it.”

The soft amber glow of the lanterns casts a warm blanket of light over the faces of my family and friends, who are spread out across the deck of the Starchaser. Above, the shimmering tapestry of stars twinkles, cutting through the dark wall of fog near the edge of the Dire, the legends of the past looking down on us as we’re rocked by the cradle of the Western Sea.

“Someone should wake him up,” Jack says, shoveling another bite of stew into his mouth. I follow his gaze to the center of our gathering, where Charlie leans against the mainmast, hugging his mop, drool leaking down his chin.

Lewis shakes his head. “Tried that once. I’m lucky to be alive.”

Eliza sits next to me, perched on a crate near the taffrail, our faces misted by the spray of the waves. We’re far enough from the others that no one hears her whisper, “So?”