Page 65 of Soul of a Witch

“Shut up!” I couldn’t think. I knew what I had to do, Iknew, but the thought made me so violently terrified I was frozen in place. Watching her die in my arms while I cowered in fear.

“He’s right, Callum.” Winona sounded so calm, so blessedly reasonable. “Claim her soul. Bind her to you. It will give her the strength she needs.”

Bind her to me.

It was irrevocable. Unchangeable. A soul bargain could not be broken. Only the most extreme and violent of circumstances could severe it.

Her strength would become mine. And a little of mine would become hers. From this day, until the end of eternity, we would be bound together.

I’d claimed human souls before. Far more than I could count. They lived, they died, I escorted them to Hell. Humans assimilated well to life among demons. After a few decades, they were nearly imperceptible from us.

I couldn’t even feel my ties to those human souls anymore. They didn’t frighten me because they could no longer hurt me. Time and distance had rendered those relationships nearly moot.

But if I bound Everly to me, I would feel her pain. Her fears, her worry, her suffering. Her power and pride. All that she was would be connected to me, and the longer we remained in close contact with each other, the more intense that connection would become.

Claiming her meant ripping open old wounds, breaking down the defenses I’d so carefully built around myself. It meant facing the agony again. The pain and terror of having someone I could lose.

But if I didn’t, I would lose her here and now. The pain was already there. There was no hiding from agony.

Only the dead see the end of war. Only the dead can rest.

Lifting Everly’s limp body to hold her close against my chest, I snarled, “Get out. Both of you, get the fuck out of here and leave us alone.”

23

Callum

A soul bargain required both participants to consent. But Everly’s eyes were far away, her breathing shallow and sporadic, the warmth gone from her limbs. Cradling her against my chest, I brushed the damp hair out of her face.

“Everly. Listen to me.” Her eyes fluttered. Her pupils twitched; they focused on me. “It will kill you if I break the cuffs, but you will die if I don’t. You need strength.”

“Not strong enough,” she whispered. As if she’d known it all along, as if it was confirmation of what she’d feared.

I gripped her tighter, shaking her. “No, no, listen to me. You have strength in you that’s greater than my own but your body is failing you. I can lend you my strength —” But it terrifies me. But it’s the one thing I’ve feared above all else. “But I need you to agree. I need you to say you’re willing.” She nodded, eyes rolling back. I shook her face again and demanded she look at me. “Say you willingly offer me your soul. You have to mean it, Everly. Please.”

Her lips moved soundlessly. There was no more furniture nearby for me to smash, no outlet for this sickening fear.

She was all I had left. For so long, my vision of her was the one and only thing that spurred me to continue. To bother to stay awake and not simply sleep away the pain for eternity.

She was my hope.

My faith.

She was everything.

Bowing my head, I clutched her hands and realized this was the closest I would ever come to a human prayer.

“I bind myself to you, from this moment until the end of eternity. I offer you my obedience, my loyalty, and my protection, in exchange for your soul. I offer this willingly. I offer this desperately. Stay with me.” I slapped her cheek lightly to keep her awake, and her eyes widened as she drew in a deep breath. “Repeat it back to me, darling, come on. You’re not fucking dead yet.” She squirmed, a little of the fierceness coming back to her. “Come on. Say it. I offer you my soul…”

She licked her lips, blinking her eyes repeatedly as if she couldn’t see me clearly.

“I offer…offer you…my soul…”

She’d already lost too much blood, but there was no other way to proceed. Manifesting a knife out of aether, I brought the sharp blade down, tapping the flat side lightly against her chest. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t shake. There was no fear in her eyes as I told her, “I need to scar you. My sigil in your flesh. I’ll be gentle…”

But she shook her head. “I didn’t ask you to be gentle.”

Certain she was delirious, I said, “It will be quick, just deep enough to mark.”

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