Chapter 49
ELLE
I didn’t know my vision could turn red. Black, yes. Blissful unconsciousness and sleep are welcome friends.
But red, no.
Yet, when the Cursed drops my mate from its mouth, red is all I see. The crimson stain on his shirt, the dried blood that covers his nose, his mouth, the dozens of wounds that pepper his torso.
My heart slows in my chest as I stare at him, as if it’s trying to match the nearly nonexistent beat of his.
He can’t be dead. The bond is still there, writhing and angry and vicious inside of me.
Blood pounds through my veins, echoing in my ears, as I stare at him. As rage fuels me.
Rage at Cora, for what she’s done to my mate.
Rage at the Mother, for making him my mate.
For turning him into something cold and cruel before I had the chance to know who he was before the world hardened him.
Rage at Her for the life he was forced to live, to the little boy who wasn’t given a chance to know kindness and love before hate began to grow in his heart.
Rage at myself for not being able to turn away from him even now, when he deserves this fate.
Bright, hot, crimson rage settles over me as I fix my gaze to the First Witch.
I scream.