Page 347 of Evil Hearts

“A lamb that trembles,

a heart that pounds,

but courage falters where fear abounds.

Will you give it, little lamb,

or must I take it from your hand?”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. Slowly, I lifted my hand, my palm outstretched, though my fingers trembled. Her claws brushed against my skin, light as a whisper, and the chill of her touch sank deep into my bones.

Her eyes narrowed, and the song returned, low and almost a whisper.

“So warm,

so sweet,

so fragile still,

a mortal heart,

a mortal will.

But will it break,

or will it burn,

when faced with truths you cannot turn?”

“What truths?” I asked, though my voice barely came out through the lump in my throat.

Her claws tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to hold me in place. “You’ll see,” she said, her voice dropping into something darker.

“For every choice demands a price,

and all the truth is paid in slices.”

Her claws lingered on my hand, and for a moment, I thought I felt the faintest warmth beneath their cold, razor-sharp surface. She tilted her head, her glowing eyes narrowing as her wings folded behind her. The silence stretched between us, heavy and expectant, until her lips curved into a faint, almost secretive smile.

“You want the relic,” she sang softly, her voice curling through the air like smoke.

“To save a life,

to mend a thread,

to chase the dark,

to raise the dead.

But what you seek is bound to me,

a gift that comes with no decree.”

I frowned, her words twisting in my mind like a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve. “What are you saying?”

Her smile widened, and she stepped closer, her talons trailing lightly at the edge of my coat. “The relic,” she said, her voice dipping lower, the song wrapping tighter around me.

“It lies within,

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