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“Read the scroll and mean every word. Then speak Ana’s last name.”
Matthias looked at Eliise, the terror etched on her face, and wondered if she would ever be able to look at him again. Tears welled in her eyes, too big for her face, nearly identical to her mother’s. Matthias crouched down before her and placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, he whispered, “It will be okay.”
He could feel Azalea’s eyes boring into him, burning a hole right through his back. Unrolling the scroll, he read it in his mind first and then took a shaky breath.
“‘Hatred consumes; feed this craving once and for all, end the reasoning for my enmity. End the blood that drips from the family, end their reign. I sacrifice my living, breathing daughter; yours to take as you will. Take that which I love to end that which I hate.’” He took a deep breath, the last name gliding effortlessly from his lips. “Tamm.”
A gust of wind forced the front door open, and an invisible force slammed into his daughter’s tiny body. She lunged forward, then stopped, her body suspended in midair before she was twisted upright. Her eyes rolled back in her head, making Matthias jerk back in disgust. The shell of a girl, a puppet to the curse, turned around, her feet shuffling on the uneven floorboards, and she walked gracefully out the opened door and disappeared into the black depths of the forest.
Matthias stood up, shaken by what he had witnessed. Deeply disturbed, he could do nothing but wait to see what unraveled in the morning. Blaez will not bear the blame tomorrow. A smile threatened to show on his expression as he realized how to break free from the hold she had on him. Tomorrow, she will burn, and I will taste freedom again.
“Are you happy now, Mother?” Matthias asked sourly.
“Yes,” Azalea replied. From the look in her eyes, she believed she had everything she wanted in the palm of her hands.
38
SILVANIA
THE YEAR OF THE MOON
RED
Silence filled the house in the woods.
A distant raven quorked, reminding all those inside that there was still work to do. A dull gray light filled the forest, showing the companions that the darkness of the night was done and the worst had come and gone. It was time to fulfill promises and break the Wolf’s curse.
The scurry of a rat startled everyone except Sorin, who reached her hand down and let Lucien climb up her arm to perch on her shoulder. She leaned her head over and nuzzled her faithful familiar.
“Are you alright, Red?” Alina asked.
Red leaned her head back as she inhaled, filled with newfound confidence in who she was becoming. She grinned, her smile crooked and dangerous. This power feels so good.
“Yes,” she replied as she breathed out. “I have never felt so powerful before.”
“Careful now,” the Wolf warned her. “You’re starting to sound like your ancestors.”
“We have work to do,” Sorin said. “Get his body out of here.”
Everyone looked down at Victor, lifeless and surrounded by a pool of his blood. The Wolf stepped forward, grabbing the corpse by his arms and lifting the upper half of his body. Tatiana quickly stepped up to grab his legs to keep them from dragging and messing up the circle. The sound of their shuffling followed them through the front door; shortly thereafter, a loud thump as the carcass was thrown lazily off the porch. They returned within a few moments, all eyes turning to Red.
“How do we proceed?” Red asked.
Sorin brushed her hair back, tangles stopping her blood-stained fingers from reaching the tips of her dark locks. There was a splash of blood on her cheeks; all of them were covered in the viscous liquid. The entire night had proven to be a bloodbath.
But it will all be over soon, Red thought. We have created a new bedtime story for parents to tell their children about witches and covens.
There was only one more piece of the puzzle before the Wolf would be set free from his curse, and Silvania would face a new kind of wrath. One that may give them the courage to rise up against their abusers. Against cruel men like my father, Red thought.
“You,” Sorin said, pointing to the Wolf, “in the circle. On your knees.”
He eyed her, untrusting, then walked with careful steps into the bloody circle. He got on his knees, a flash of memory from a very, very long time ago tickling the edges of his mind. He winced.
“Red, kneel outside the circle,” Sorin commanded, glancing at the ancient scroll, looking for answers or guidance; after a moment, she accepted she was on her own. She had all the ingredients to undo the curse, she had confidence in her ability to carry it through without making mistakes. There is no backing out, she reminded herself, all I can do is try. No additional lives would be lost should they fail; Red’s grandmother and father deserved their deaths.
“Alina, you need to draw the blood from Red,” Sorin decided. “Red, you must give it willingly. I presume you will give it willingly to Alina, no?”
Red looked up at Alina, a flush of rouge filling her cheeks. She nodded quickly.
