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Original Edition: Thirty-Four

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As I predicted, my parents' resolve did not waver, but that didn't mean I gave up my responsibility a moment before I was forced to.

The insurance money came in, and I was able to fix the leak. The foundation had sustained minimal damage, but I would leave that for Raven to deal with. I even had enough money left over to make up for the refunds I'd had to issue that night. Guests were in the building again, my parents had stayed away, and the city manager was off my back. The only thing left to figure out was the fines, but at least I could breathe through my final days at the hotel.

Even though I only had two weeks left at the Reynard, Soren and I were spending more time together, and while nothing serious had happened, we were growing closer by the day. He stayed the night with me often, cuddled up in my bed and falling asleep in the middle of conversations. Those peaceful moments with just the two of us were precious to me.

Late one night after dinner, I picked up the tome from the bedside table and opened it, sitting cross-legged on my bed and resting it on my lap. Needless to say, I'd not had much time to read, and I was eager to find out more about Hazel's earlier years. Today was a fresh start; I should be able to read for a good few entries before I started feeling the book hangover from hell.

I was so engrossed in an entry that I hadn't even noticed Soren come into the bedroom until he slipped behind me, pulling me between his legs and resting my back against his chest. He draped his arms over my shoulders, careful not to touch the book.

Butterflies invaded my stomach and I glanced up at him, brushing his palm with my index finger. "Well, hello there," I said with a grin.

"I see you're reading again," he said, propping his chin on top of my head.

"I am. Since somebody won't give me any info," I teased, reaching back and tickling his ribs.

He squirmed behind me. "That's right. You have to figure this stuff out for yourself."

"Yeah, yeah."

I returned my eyes to the page and continued reading. Long gone were the sadistic ramblings of Betty, and now I enraptured with the inner thoughts of my sweet Aunt Hazel. The current entry was about Soren, and I was fascinated to learn what she thought about him. And grateful for the spell that made it impossible for Soren to see what was on the pages as I read.

It's clear that Soren is never going to feel the same way about me as I do about him. He insists that the only reason I love him is because I'm never around anyone else and have never really known any other males. That's totally untrue, but he won't have it. He is incredibly kind to me but being in his presence is becoming physically painful. I know he'd never hurt me on purpose, but it's just so hard to be near him knowing that he'll never love me.

I stopped reading and looked up at Soren, who had his eyes closed in what looked like deep thought. I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly changed my mind, letting my eyes drift back to the page. The next few entries were devastating; if I could've skipped them, I would have. Her heartbreak was excruciating. I raised my hand and placed it over his, running my thumb across his skin as I continued reading.

I thought I never would, but I've gotten over Soren. Well, I've grown out of him, so to speak. I'm getting older and older and they're aging at such a different pace, so I look at Soren and Archer as little brothers now.

But now something bigger is plaguing me. These boys are stuck here forever as part of an ancient bargain they had nothing to do with. I have to find a way to give them a chance, to reverse the spell binding them to the Reynard.

To do that, I think I have to delve into the same dark magic my ancestors participated in. I'm not sure if this is such a good idea, but it's the only way to find a solution for the boys.

With a gasp, I tossed the book to the mattress and turned around to face Soren. Putting my hands on his thighs, I leaned forward and asked, "There's a way to break the spell?"

He cocked a brow and his lips quirked—the look he'd given me every time I asked a direct question about what I was reading.

I was resenting that look at this moment. If there was hope of undoing the curse, I needed to know. I would regret leaving and not fixing this for Soren if I could. And didn't he want that too? It couldn't be easy living in the same place, looking at the same scenery day in and day out. But even batting my eyelashes and flashing a cheesy smile didn't change his mind.

I sighed and flopped back down between his legs. "You could save us a bunch of time if you would just tell me. Maybe I could break it before I have to leave."

"And live with the guilt of disobeying one of your aunt's dying wishes, I don't think so. This is your journey to take with her, not mine."

With another heavy sigh, I returned my attention to the withered pages and resumed reading. I was already starting to feel queasy, and I had a feeling if I didn't put the book down soon, I might find myself passed out on top of Soren. But I was getting closer to answers, so I pushed my luck and kept going.

He fidgeted behind me, shifting his hips side to side and playing with the blankets. At one point, I stopped reading and looked at him over my shoulder, but he acted as if nothing were wrong.

A high-pitched squeak of air sucked in between his teeth interrupted my reading again. This time, I didn't look at him but stared at the hand-written words in the book. "Is something bothering you?" I asked.

"Not necessarily bothering me."

"Is there something on your mind?"

"Yes."

"I'd have an easier time scrubbing the white off rice then getting you to give me a full answer. Would you like to talk about it?"

He fell silent.

My heart pounded at my ribs and a tight knot formed in my chest. It wasn't like him not to say something without a good reason. Soren had always let his feelings be known with what seemed little thought for mine. If he was holding back from me, it had to be bad.

I begrudgingly closed the tome, set it on the bed next to us. I was eager for the answers that were just pages away, but I also wanted to know what was bothering him. Turing to face him, I crossed my legs, my knees brushed the side of his, and I folded my hands in my lap. We spent a moment staring at each other as the tension in the air built.

Again, I asked him, "Would you like to talk about it?"

He swallowed and a worry line formed between his blue eyes. "Just hear me out and don't get mad."

My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Whatever he wanted to say couldn't be good. He looked like he was about to pass out on me. I wracked my brain for a reason but kept coming up blank. I couldn't prepare myself for what was to come, all I could do was agree to his terms.

"Okay," I drew out, and held my breath as I waited for him to explain. 

 

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