✓ | Curse Breaker ⋆ Julian Blackthorn [1]

x. VISITING THE WARLOCK

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CHAPTER TEN: VISITING THE WARLOCK

❛don't let us down.❜

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Julian was leaning against the wall, his dark curls falling into his saddened orbs, when Zoya Caldwell exited Mark's room and gently shut the door behind her. Instantly, his attention was focused on the raven-haired girl, heart beating fast in his chest.

"How is he?" Julian's words were laced in a mixture of concern and fear, brotherly instinct taking over the usually calm boy. "Did he say anything? Who hurt-"

Zoya smiled weakly as her aquamarine gaze flew in between Cristina, Emma and Julian. Silently, Mark's words rummaged through her restless thoughts, reminding her of what the older Blackthorn asked of her. "He was upset," Zoya shook her head, teeth gently sinking into her lower lip. "He didn't say much to me, but he was certain about not wanting the stele near him."

Julian huffed, using his hand to gently massage his temples. There was no doubt in Zoya's mind that he was upset; dark, near purple bags decorated the skin underneath his tired blue-green eyes. She truly wanted to tell Julian the truth. She wanted to share everything that Mark told her, but if she did that, she knew that the blonde boy was to never open up to them.

"They injured him," Julian began again. "Why?"

"So you would do what you did," Emma interrupted. "So you would get a stele."

Julian shook his head, muttering a few colorful words under his breath. "So I would see what they did to him, how he hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Cristina spoke gently. "He hates himself. He hates that he is Nephilim, because they would have taught that to him. Hate for hate. They are an old people and that is their idea of justice."

Zoya was surprised to hear Cristina's words. It's not that she didn't expect to hear them coming out of the girl's mouth, she knew faeries were her area of study. She just never truly had the chance of witnessing her displaying her knowledge. Now, that she did, she couldn't help but admire the wisdom and truth they held.

"Cristina is right, Jules," Zoya nodded. "I don't think Mark hates you. He just needs time."

Julian's eyes met Zoya's, searching for an ounce of consolation. So many things have happened in the last few days that the boy found it too hard to distinguish everything that's taken place. However, once he allowed himself to drown in the endless oceans of blue that were Zoya's eyes, Julian understood the aching pulse in his chest. He comprehended the pervading feeling that made his lungs tighten and his insides feel too small, almost as if the whole world was shutting on him.