Chapter 42
Sacrifier
CLAIRE
The wolves didn’t take kindly to my hands being bound, but they seemed to understand that I was voluntarily being taken prisoner.
The purple light of dawn was rising in the distance.
A cold, clear morning that promised to be my last as my back was pressed against a frigid graveyard statue.
Fear of what came next was there, but it was overshadowed by the sickness that had settled over me.
Cold sweat dripping down the side of my face. A rush of dizziness. Disorientation.
A dead body lay in a pool of blood. The sight reminded me of that bloody river and the absolute carnage I saw in the memory.
While the sight and memory of blood was bad enough, the smell was inescapable.
It lingered all around me. Coming from the wound on Bastien’s neck, the gash on my brow, and the jaws of the wolves at my side.
I fought through another crashing wave of dizziness to look at his face. Everything about him was still frozen, except for the warm drips that ran down his neck.
My bloodstone tugged me forward, begging me to go to him.
To be with him. To hold him one last time.
But that wasn’t my fate. I was never going to touch him again.
A lump formed in my throat when I thought about all the things I’d never get to learn about him or all the questions I’d never get to ask.
I didn’t have time to grieve the loss of that future.
Bastien needed to leave as soon as possible in order to feed.
With each passing second, he looked more gaunt. More pale. More unlike himself.
I needed him strong enough to ride to his castle, where he could meet with Natalia, Tyson, and Okeri and avenge what was about to happen here, which meant I needed to end this quickly.
Mustering my courage, I forced myself to meet Hera’s eyes.
“You have me,” I told her. “Now release him from the spell.”
Silence.
Then, a small laugh that sent a shiver through me. My heart pounded out a furious rhythm that seemed to say, Live, live, live, like some cruel joke.
She glanced at the spider on her shoulder, like they were sharing some private joke. “How could a girl as foolish as you be the worthiest witch in this graveyard?” she wondered aloud. Her head canted to one side.
“Doing the right thing isn’t foolish. Now let him go! We made a bargain.”
Another pause. Another heated silence. All of a sudden, I started to feel very foolish because I realized what was happening. Bastien was under a spell. My hands were bound. She had no responsibility to fulfill her promise to me.
My gaze darted to Bastien, and even though the sight of him broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. I’d failed him. And now, because I was so foolish, my family would suffer. Sera—sweet, wild Sera—would suffer. Because I wasn’t the witch anyone needed me to be, I was too weak.
The beat of my heart was frantic and adamant, begging me not to give up. Live. Live. Live.
I had nothing left to barter with except…
“The High Prince will avenge this treason.”
I didn’t know Prince Marius very well, but I knew he loved his brother. It was likely the reason he showed him mercy when he’d believed Bastien had broken the law and tasted my blood before a contract was made. However, the witch seemed unconcerned.
“That’s the thing you don’t understand about these creatures. Once upon a time they were members of great covens. But they’ve grown soft and lazy. They aren’t our immortal guardians. Castles and wine and parties. That’s all they care about.”
So I was right. They were once witches. Bastien had been a witch. And now more than ever, I believed that he’d spent his immortal life trying not to show favoritism. Because that’s the man that he was. And all along the way, he’d been trying to show me that Dark Witches weren’t all bad.
Present company excluded.
“I can’t speak of the others, but that’s not true about Prince Bastien.”
Hera patted the side of Bastien’s face with the flat side of her blade, leaving a red trail across his cheek. I breathed in. And out. Swallowing down the dizziness.
“This one loves war. Fearless. Deadly. Except, of course, when he’s stuck in a full-body bind. But that doesn’t make him better than the others. No. It just makes him… different.”
And she was right. He was different. But that didn’t matter to her.
“You won’t be able to cover this up,” I told her as desperation started to rise. “And those soft, lazy vampires will come for you and your family.”
“Well, if the High Prince comes to call, we’ll just say we haven’t seen our dear duke in some time.”
I smirked. “The others knew we were coming. Bastien’s council. They’ll tell the truth. You won’t get away with this.”
She considered me carefully. “Well, perhaps I’ll tell the High Prince that Bastien had his throat ripped out by a wolf that only seemed to obey the commands of his new sanguine partner.”
She eyed the two giant wolves sitting nearby. “We, as his loyal subjects, took justice into our own hands. As they say, dead vampires tell no tales.” She shot a glare at me. Red eyes blazing. “And neither do dead witches.”
My hope was cut like the string of a trap. This was it. I was going to die. And it was all in vain. I wasn’t going to save anyone.
Hera gestured to someone behind me, and they fisted their hand into my hair. My neck strained as my head was pulled back to open my throat. The lace collar around my neck biting into my flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain. Clenching my jaw as I waited for what came after her blade.
My gaze circled their faces, ready to argue with whoever thought I wasn’t telling the truth when I caught sight of the witch with the white raven—the one who had defended me. She was crouched behind a gravestone, with her bird perched atop her shoulder, and pointing her wand my way.
She lifted a finger to her lips, as if to tell me not to react.
I had no idea what she intended to do, but I had to trust her.
I had no other choice. Swallowing hard, I watched her twist her wrist and mutter some silent spell.
I was hoping Hera would burst into flames or she’d break my binds, but… nothing.
For a moment, I doubted my decision, but as soon as the thought entered my brain, it was shoved aside by another. A feeling swept over me—as if I were underwater, safe and far away from here. The only thing I wanted to do was swim to him.
Then I heard it. My name. Faintly. Calling to me.
“Claire.”