Page 52 of Blood Coven

“If there was, would I be here?” Blaez sounded exhausted.

“You are a kind husband.” Matthias nodded. “I’m Matthias, Azalea’s son.”

Azalea focused on Blaez and took a deep breath. “What I am about to tell you may frighten you, but understand that the only way your wife will live through the night is if you listen and adhere to everything I tell you.”

Blaez's features tightened, but he nodded.

“My son is cursed. He bears the curse of the full moon.” Her eyes flitted between the men. Matthias’s dark eyes were locked on Blaez, but Blaez looked at Azalea politely.

“You seem a strong man, both in body and mind.”

Blaez only grunted in response.

“My son cannot handle the curse; he will not survive it,” she half-lied. “But I can tell that you, Blaez, are capable of carrying this curse upon your back without much trouble—

“What happens on the full moon?”

Azalea had been dreading that question but suspected Blaez already knew the answer. “You become a creature. A wolf.”

She could see the man try to wrap his mind around what she told him, his hands balling into fists and flexing repeatedly. As he considered her words, Azalea wondered if perhaps telling him had been a mistake but knew she had no choice; successful spellwork of this type required willingness.

After a moment of thought, Blaez let out a breath. “Very well.”

Matthias gasped. “You will still go through with it?”

“For Ana,” he said, looking Matthias dead in the eye, “I would do anything.”

“Let us get this over with, then,” Azalea cut in.

She grabbed the chalices, knowing exactly which one was for Blaez and which one was for Matthias. Blaez's was a slightly different color because it already contained Juniper's blood—the start of the curse she was setting into motion. Both men were unaware of such, and without knowledge of the Craft, neither could see the color difference in the lighting. Each man took their chalice, both looking skeptical, but Blaez held his head high. She respected him for that.

She walked over to Matthias and grabbed the knife she had used to slit Juniper’s throat only hours before. Cleaned and sharpened, it would not even cause pain immediately. The blood would bead crimson and bright before Matthias felt a thing.

When Azalea sliced open the flesh upon Matthias's hand, he did not wince. The blood pooled immediately, but he remained stone still, trying to match Blaez's calmness. She flipped Matthias's hand and squeezed his fingers over the wound so his blood would spill. Then she held it over Blaez’s cup, letting her son’s blood drip into the potion. When it had filled almost to a spilling point, she pulled Matthias's hand back. He let it dangle at his side, the blood staining her floors.

Azalea took a deep breath and began to chant in the ancient tongue of the displacement curse. She felt the power coursing through her, and soon the words flowed from her lips as though it was her native language. They seized and silenced the room.

The two men stared at one another, Blaez’s green gaze holding Matthias’s gray, and they drank as though sealing a business deal. Matthias was the first to finish, and he dropped the chalice. Though it clattered upon the blood-stained floor, it did not distract Azalea. Her chanting persisted, and Matthias gasped as the air was suddenly pulled from his lungs.

Dark vapor came with it, billowing from him like smoke. His skin shriveled, and his veins turned black as Azalea spoke louder, ripping the curse from the depths of his body. His face twisted in pain, and, no longer able to contain it, he released a guttural scream.

The murky vapor gathered in a cloud above him, and Blaez stared wide-eyed as it wafted his way. Still, he showed no fear, not even when the smoke entered his mouth, searching for a new host. The color in his eyes faded, his veins blackening as the curse transferred to him. Consumed him.

When it was over, Blaez fell to his knees.

Azalea ceased chanting, waiting to see if the spell had worked. Blaez’s head dropped, his hands hanging in front of him, shaking violently. Matthias had fallen on one knee, his hand gripping the edge of a table to keep himself upright.

It was Blaez who rose first, a distracted look in his once-determined eyes. Now a dull and listless gray, they gave him the appearance of something from nightmares, a dismal colorless dream.

He looked at Azalea, and for the first time, she was struck by his handsomeness. With a broken voice, he demanded, “The cure.”

Surprised he was even able to speak, Azalea fetched the cure she had made the day Ana had arrived. She handed it to Blaez. Their hands touched briefly, and Blaez nodded his farewell. As he tried to step toward the door, eager to save his wife, he stumbled badly enough that he fell. Determined, he pulled himself back to his feet. As he staggered to the door, slowly regaining his ability to walk, Azalea handed Matthias a cup of tea to ease his pain.

Matthias managed to sit on a chair, finishing his tea as Blaez disappeared. “Thank you,” he said, his voice fading.

Azalea watched his eyelids grow heavy and plucked the cup from his hand before it toppled. Matthias’s head lolled back as the sleeping tonic took hold.

It is for the best, she thought. I have work to do.

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