Page 346 of Evil Hearts

I blinked, the question catching me off guard. “What?”

“Your mother,” she said, the song threading through her words.

“Would she take what costs so dear,

the stolen breath, the stolen fear?

Would she claim what you would give,

and bear the weight so she might live?”

I swallowed, my chest tightening. “What are you talking about? I’d give it willingly. It wouldn’t cost her anything.”

Her laughter came soft and sharp, like the distant crack of a tree falling in the woods. “Oh, little lamb,” she sang, and the pity in her voice made my stomach twist. “You still don’t understand.”

Her talons moved again, dragging lightly against the stone. The sound was almost rhythmic, a slow, deliberate beat that set my teeth on edge. “There is no gift without a cost,” she sang, her voice dipping into something colder.

“The relic’s glow,

the mortal’s price,

to steal a cure,

you’ll pay it thrice.

Your blood,

your breath,

your soul in store,

and when it’s gone,

you’ll give me more.”

I forced myself not to step back, though every instinct screamed at me to run. “I don’t care about the cost,” I said, my voice edged with desperation. “I’ll pay it.”

She tilted her head again, her gaze sharp and unblinking. “Do you truly mean that?” she asked, her song softening into something quieter, more dangerous.

“For many say,

but few will do,

and fewer still can pay their due.

But if you stand,

if you endure,

you’ll learn the cost of what you cure.”

“I mean it,” I said, though my voice trembled now.

Her smile widened—not cruel this time, but something worse, something knowing. “Then let me see,” she sang, her talons lifting, blood glinting faintly in the moonlight. “Give me your hand.”

My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared at her claws. For a moment, the world felt too still, too heavy, and I couldn’t move. Her gaze didn’t waver, and the air between us grew colder, sharper, like the edge of a blade.

When I didn’t move, her voice returned, soft and almost... amused.

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