Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

M ax leaned against the doorway of the music room, watching Amelia work. She was mesmerized by the portrait in front of her, almost as though she was in a trance. Max guessed she basically was.

She had been determined to finish her work as quickly as she could in order to break this curse. Every morning, she broke her fast and then sat in front of Isolde’s portrait, her brush on the canvas as she highlighted every detail of the backdrop, the pieces scattered over the table in the painting, and, of course, Isolde herself.

It had been days since they had used their powers to speak to his grandfather through his portrait.

She broke from her work late in the evening to eat dinner and they spent every night together in Max’s bed. It was still more magical than it had ever been with another, but Max felt there was something missing between them since that first night — like she was not completely present with him in the moment but rather part of her was elsewhere.

He knew exactly where she was.

With the painting. With Isolde.

He appreciated Amelia’s dedication, and yet, he would prefer to have all of her. It scared him to think of the sacrifice his grandfather had referred to. If this was what she was like working on the painting, what would happen if she had to sacrifice even more of herself?

“Amelia,” he said softly now, hoping to give her a break for a time. When she didn’t answer, he raised his voice slightly. “Amelia.”

She started and looked around as though she didn’t know where she was, before she blinked a few times, her eyes coming back into focus.

“Max,” she said with a slow yet slightly absent smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I know,” he said, walking into the room and leaning down to cup her cheek. No matter how many times they touched, it still shocked him that every time they did, tingles trickled over his skin. “You’ve been working hard. Do you want to take a break?”

She looked from him and back to the painting. “I should keep going.”

“Amelia, I appreciate what you are doing, but you cannot allow this painting to take over you,” he said as gently as he could. “If we don’t break the curse, then we don’t break it. It’s not worth losing you to it.”

He heard a rumble from the piano across the room that he knew was Isolde voicing her displeasure that he was offering an opinion. There hadn’t been any more incidents since Amelia had started to pay such dedication to the painting. Apparently, it was keeping Isolde happy, but the spirit didn’t seem pleased with Max’s interference. She wanted Amelia all to herself.

“She wants me to finish the work,” Amelia whispered, confirming his suspicions. “But…” She looked from one side to the other before standing and grabbing Max’s hand, tugging him to stand with her. “Come with me.”

She led him through the library and out the terrace doors, walking them so far from the house that he wondered if she was going to take him to a neighboring property.

Finally, she seemed happy with the distance and stopped.

“What is it?” he asked, unable to wait any longer to know what was so bothering her.

“It’s Isolde,” she said, her nose wrinkled in distress, her green eyes searched his imploringly, as though she could find all the answers to her concerns in his eyes. “I feel that the more I work on her painting, the more she is… I don’t know… drawing me in. I have never felt this before. In the past, whenever I have worked on enchanted paintings, while they have told their stories, I have never encountered a curse that is so wrapped up in a person and a painting as this one.”

“You should stop,” Max said immediately, shaking his head. “This was my concern. I do not want anything to happen to you because of this job. I?—"

She placed her hand on his chest, interrupting him. “Don’t you understand that this is more than a job to me now? I need to do this. Not only do I not want to leave you with this curse alone, but I also feel that it would be too difficult for me to break away. There is only one way through and that is to finish this. But I need your help.”

“Anything,” he said, realizing that he truly meant it. He would do anything to keep her safe. He wished now that he had never drawn her into this. He had naively thought that this would be much easier — that he could restore the painting and be rid of it and the curse. But he would never have known the truth of what had truly happened if it wasn’t for Amelia, nor would he know that the curse wouldn’t leave him even if the portrait did.

Amelia seemed to think that this was how it should be, but he couldn’t believe that, if it meant any harm would come to her.

She looked at him imploringly, gripping his hands. “I need you to make sure that I don’t lose myself. That I do not allow Isolde to take me over.”

“Why do you think that would happen?” he asked urgently.

“I can feel her calling me, as though she wants something from me,” she said, despair trickling from her voice.

Fear gripped Max’s heart. For he could see it. It was what had been keeping Amelia from fully giving herself to him, and yet, until now, he had tried to deny it. It was why he had felt that it wasn’t the same as it had been between them that first night.

“I don’t know what she wants aside from her portrait being complete. I don’t know if she knows that by doing this we are trying to break the curse. All I know is that she wants something, and I need you to keep her from taking me with her.”

“Do you think that’s it?” he asked. “Do you think she wants to use you somehow?”

“I don’t know. She would have to be one of the strongest sorceresses I have ever known if she were to do so, but it is not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Amelia, I don’t like this,” he said, shaking his head, clutching her arms, not realizing how tightly he was doing so until she winced slightly, and he loosened his hold. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” she insisted. “Not that I can see. Will you help me?”

“Of course,” he said. “That isn’t a question. What do you need me to do?”

“Just be there with me. Do what you did today and check in on me. Don’t let me become too caught up in the work.”

“I can do that,” he said resolutely. “Have you learned anything else?”

“I have seen more into the curse, into what she was feeling. Her pain has only increased over the years. The curse has grown her power, which has been fueled by the dark emotions she used to create it. The way through is to show her that love is possible, that there was love there for her from your grandfather. Somehow, we need to cut through that hurt.”

“Do you have an idea how we can do that?”

“In addition to working on her portrait, I must work on my own painting. One that I will infuse with all of the emotion that I believe is needed to break it. Then we will use that along with all of the other elements possible and your own power to set up a ritual to break it.”

That sounded a bit better. At least there was a plan.

“How soon can we do that?”

“I need another week,” she said. “Can we wait that long?”

“As long as you need.”

“How is your own practice going?”

“Fine,” he lied. The truth was that he had been so concerned about her that he hadn’t been able to do much of his own magic. It didn’t seem to work very well without Amelia. But he didn’t want to worry her with that.

“Let’s go back,” she said, tugging on his hand, and he resisted.

“Wait.”

“For what?”

“For this.”

He pulled her close and placed his lips on hers, melding them together as he gripped the back of her head and held her close. His lips moved on hers as he showed her, instead of telling her, all that he felt for her and how important she had become to him.

She responded in equal measure, and he found that the more emotion he put into the kiss, the more passion she returned.

Maybe this was it—this was the answer. Showing her how he felt drew her back to him.

One thing was for certain: He didn’t want to let her go. He couldn’t.

Relief washed over Amelia as she and Max walked back to the house together.

She was not alone in this.

He was there with her, every step of the way.

Amelia had lived most of her life alone. After her parents passed, she made her solitary way forward, supporting herself in a world that didn’t make it easy for women.

She had always been proud of her ability to do so, and yet she found that it was a lot nicer than she would have thought to be able to lean on someone else.

Max could keep her solidly anchored, even as Isolde attempted to rock her off course.

Isolde had been pulling her under, a little more so every time Amelia sat down in front of her portrait. She had tried to deny the darkness that was washing over her, but it had become undeniable over the past few days. Eventually, she’d had no choice but to tell Max about it.

She had been nervous to do so, knowing he would react as he had, wanting her to leave the painting — which would mean leaving him.

Something she couldn’t do.

They stopped outside the door of the music room, and Max grasped her by the shoulders.

“I’m going to stay with you.”

“No,” she argued. “You have so much else to do. You hired me to do this and I?—"

“Do you truly think this is about what I have hired you to do any longer?” he asked, lifting a brow, making his handsome face even more attractive. “You have done more for me than anyone else in my life ever has, and I know that it is not because I am paying you to do so.”

“You have a big heart,” she said quietly. “You deserve everything you desire.”

“I desire you ,” he said, and her breath caught at the passion in his voice. She had felt his passion before, but there was more to this now. They had been together physically, but she knew, deep within her, that he wasn’t just talking about having her body. They were bound together in every way, and she felt it as much as he did.

“You have me,” she whispered and kissed him again, drawing from him all of the light and power she needed to stay strong when she returned to the portrait.

She could do this.

All she needed was Max.