Unbound: The Cursed Trilogy, Book One by Betty Legend (small books to read .txt) 📕

away from these men. A silver circle appears outside my closet, and Cyrus steps through it.

“Selene.”

I ignore him as I walk past him to the bathroom. He follows me in and watches me pack. In the mirror, I see his sullen expression and the concern in his eyes.

“I understand you’re upset. This is a lot to take in. I swear to you, Griffin and I do care for you.”

With enough of what I need packed, I turn to him.

“If you care, you’ll take me home. Please.”

Cyrus swallows, his gaze dropping before he nods. Putting an arm around me, he creates the portal with the other. A minute later, I’m stepping into the living room of my apartment. Dropping the duffle bag, I walk to my kitchen to pour a drink. Cyrus follows me into the space.

“Griffin didn’t lie to you. He omitted information to protect you. He recognized you weren’t ready to know everything and wanted to give you time to absorb it in pieces.”

Pouring wine into a glass, I bring it to my lips and swallow until it’s gone. My heart is hoping Cyrus is telling the truth because as crazy as it sounds in my head, I was already developing feelings for Griffin.

“I need time and space. Can you both give me that?”

Cyrus touches my shoulder, turning me to face him. The brief contact instantly eases my frayed nerves. Taking the glass from my hand, Cyrus sets it down and places a gentle kiss to my cheek. My body responds with the desire to sink into his arms for comfort.

“We’ll give you as long as you need, but Emeric won’t. If you need me for anything, call me.” Withdrawing a card from his wallet, he hands it to me. “You’re not a tool, Selene. You’re a gifted and beautiful woman. One I’m longing to know and for you to know me.”

Cyrus steps back, creates a portal, and with anguish tightening his features, he steps through and disappears.

Griffin

Cyrus reemerges in my living room and slumps into the chair, setting his glasses on the nearest end table.

“She hates us.”

Handing him a shot glass, I carry the other with me to the couch.

“I don’t think she does. I think she’s scared. The connection we have is strong, and she’s afraid I don’t feel the same for her as she does for me.”

“How can you tell?”

“Images and emotions. Ancor was right, she’s expressive of them.”

“Can you sense her now?”

Closing my eyes, concentrating on Selene’s beautiful face, images flash through my mind, my stomach knotting and my mouth tightening as I keep focus. She’s lying in her bed with blankets wrapped around her. Opening my eyes, I struggle to release that image.

“She’s crying. She feels alone.”

“We can’t leave her vulnerable like this.”

“I know.” Her pain is now my pain, and I can’t leave her alone in tears over me, over a misbelief I don’t care for her. “Did you speak after taking her home?”

“Yes, she asked for time and space.”

“If we go to her now, she’ll likely throw us out. Do you have enough magic to cast a protection spell?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll help you, however I can.” Setting the liquor glass aside, I follow Cyrus into the other room.

CHAPTER NINE

SELENE

The only way I know to cope with my mixed emotions is to paint. Letting the thick brushstrokes add a slash of yellow into the green, the elements of the Fae forest are coming to life in this painting in far greater detail than I’ve ever painted before.

Three days of painting and working, and I’m finally finding contentment. My bank account reflects the payments from the art show at 369, but I’ve already reached out to Susan to share that I have a new collection to offer.

There will be an art show Saturday. I’m looking forward to the rush of having viewers admire, and if they love them, buy my work. Painting is as much a part of me as breathing, but I haven’t forgotten the other part of me—the hidden side. The side that emerged after bonding with Griffin. The thought of him pains me. I miss him. A magical being I let into my heart and bonded with in the most intimate way possible, and he fills my thoughts often. I wonder what he’s been doing since we’ve been apart and how much his magic has grown, if any. Mine has, so it leads me to believe his has as well.

Sometimes, the thoughts of Mordeeves Island are like a distant dream I’m struggling to remember, and at other times, my night with Griffin is so vivid, I touch between my legs to alleviate the ache I have for him.

A knock at my door lowers my paintbrush from the canvas—my heart races when I look through the peephole. Opening the door slowly, I admire Griffin standing in the threshold with a bundle of wildflowers in his hand. He’s as handsome as I remember with his messy blond locks and pale blue, button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up. Below khaki shorts are his usual worn leather flip flops. It’s a good thing it’s not winter in New York. I have no idea how he’d handle having to wear boots.

“Can I come in?”

The question is so normal, one a human man would ask a woman. I laugh at the simplicity of it and stand aside so he can enter.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Should I tell him I haven’t stopped thinking of him, either?

“You’ve been in my thoughts, too.”

Griffin hands me the flowers, and as he does, he leans down and kisses my cheek. His lips linger, and I long to feel those lips move across my body. Taking the flowers into the kitchen, I reach for the vase in the cupboard. Griffin reaches above me and gathers the vase for me.

With the vase full of water, I sniff the pretty scented flowers. Griffin places his hands on my shoulders and caresses my arms as his lips feather along