Page 81 of Salem's Fall
“To be fair, my brother doesn’t have a choice. You saw to that when you showed up here on Veil Night,” Lucien says, advancing on me, his voice a mocking whisper. His smile widens as he gestures to my sister. “It’s your call, Miss Woodsen. So what’s it going to be?”
I clench my hands together to try and stop my body’s shaking as I reach for Maddie. I gently stroke her cheek, wiping away her tears. There is no choice. I know what I have to do.
My whole life, I thought ambition made me worthy. That if I chased power hard enough, I’d finally matter. That winning was the only way to survive. But now I see it clearly?—
Love is what makes me whole.
Love is what makes me brave enough to do what needs to be done.
“It’s going to be okay, Maddie,” I say softly and lean over to kiss her cheek. “You’re going to be just fine.” Then I turn to Lucien, and I’m proud how my voice comes out steady and firm, despite the fear clawing at me. “I’ll do it. I’ll give my life for hers.”
A choked sob escapes Maddie’s throat, muffled by the gag, but the terror in her eyes says everything. She thrashes against her restraints, shaking her head so hard it looks like she might snap something. I see her mouth form one desperate word over and over?—
No. No. No.
“Excellent.” Lucien’s eyes gleam with triumph. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
He gestures to a few of the Veil members, and they come forward. One of the impatient men, the one complaining about his spoiled party plans for the evening, grabs my hands roughly and jerks them behind my back. I grimace as pain shoots up my arms, but do my best to ignore it.
What does a little pain matter now anyway? Not when I know what’s about to happen next.
Instead, I look over at my sister and lock eyes with her, trying to pour every ounce of strength and love I have left into that gaze. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, her whole body trembling in fear.
“I love you, Mads,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “More than anything in this world.” I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, lingering there for a heartbeat. “You’re going to have a long, beautiful, amazing life. You’re going to do everything we ever dreamed of,” I promise, even as my throat tightens. “The hardest thing isn’t dying. It’s living—and you’re going to have to do it for the both of us now.”
“How touching,” Lucien murmurs. “Beautiful, really.”
“Just get this over with.” I glare at him as he takes his place beside me at the altar.
“Stop! Get away from her,” Damien growls, his voice cutting through the madness. His face is twisted with a mix of rage and desperation as he grabs me from the man holding my arms and pulls me into his side. “No one touches her.”
A few Veil members move forward to stop Damien, but he shoves them all away with a strength that almost seems supernatural.
Lucien’s face fills with shock as he turns to his brother. “You don’t mean to?—”
“I’ll do it,” Damien says, his voice grim but determined. “I’ll take her place.”
Astunned murmur ripples through the masked Veil members, the sound echoing off the stone walls as Damien’s declaration hangs in the air. Some of them shift uneasily, others stiffen. My mind reels, struggling to process what he just said. Take my place? What is he talking about?
What the hell does that mean?
A sharp, clipped voice breaks through the noise. “No!” one of the men hisses. “You can’t!”
Another man surges out of the circle, his voice filled with barely restrained anger. “This isn’t how it works, Blackhollow. The ritual requires her!”
Lucien holds up a hand, silencing the men. “Relax, gentlemen. We should let my dear brother make his foolish little choice,” he says, an ecstatic gleam in his eyes. “And you understand the consequences? You’d renounce your ascension and stop the last sacrifice… for her?”
Damien’s gaze softens as he looks at me, his face resolute.
“I would.”
A low muttering rises up all around me from the Veil members, one that builds into a rolling, taunting laughter.
“Wait, what?” I stammer, barely able to comprehend what’s happening, still half-expecting to wake up from thisnightmare I’ve somehow gotten trapped in. “You can do that? Give up your place as Veil leader?”
“Not just Veil leader, sweetheart,” Lucien says. “I’m afraid the rules also call for him to forfeit his life.” His look is mocking, triumphant, the kind of expression a predator wears when its prey finally surrenders. He’s savoring this, every twisted second of Damien’s downfall.
Shock, then horror, runs through me.
