Page 2 of Blood Coven

Her appearance surprised him as he looked up at her from his spot on the ground. She had aged in the years since he left, but not poorly. Deep-set creases engraved her skin yet, there was still beauty in the contours of her face. Both of them had the same deep-set brown eyes and brown hair that had run in the family for generations; hers had grayed. Yet, despite the smugness in her voice, a crease had formed between her brows, betraying her worry.

After all, he was still her son.

“Come in,” she said, helping him inside. “I believe I have some of your old clothes lying about.”

After finding him something to wear, she disappeared into the kitchen to make something to warm him. Matthias let the sheet fall to the ground and dressed, pain and stiffness slowing his movements. It felt as though he’d been ripped in half; he was almost certain his body had been. The clothes were snug, pinching into his skin. He had been so young when he left town, barely a man. Fully dressed, Matthias knelt on the warped wooden floor before the fire, his arms extended so he could thaw his fingers in the warmth of the flames.

“Here,” she said, thrusting a piping hot mug of tea into his hands.

He nodded his thanks before sipping at the steaming liquid. It was so bitter that he nearly spit it out but forced himself to swallow it. His insides warmed, and he knew he would recover shortly. But recovery meant nothing if he had to face what he had suffered again. Fear crept back as he recalled his body twisting into a monstrous beast. He could not go through it again.

“Tell me everything,” his mother demanded, kneeling beside him and placing her wrinkled hands on his arm.

Matthias shifted, shrugging her hand away and putting distance between them. He had no desire to be touched, especially by her. But he needed her if he wanted to be free from whatever curse had been forced upon him. His voice still raked through his throat, and pain sliced through his tongue. He suspected it was the transformation that made speaking so painful.

“You told me…as a child to stay…out of the Mørke Forest during the full moon. Why?” The words caught as he struggled to free them.

Azalea exhaled sharply, rising to tend to the fire. As she stared into the flames with her back turned to Matthias, he could see the tension in her shoulders. It was apparent from her concern and how she avoided his gaze that this was not how she expected him to return. She finally turned and looked at him, the contempt gone from her gaze. Fear replaced it, narrowing her eyes and making the corners of her lips pull downward. Anything that his foul creature of a mother feared would terrify anyone else ten-fold. “Tell me what happened, Matthias.”

If he wanted to be cured, he had to obey. Whatever she demanded of him, he had to do it. He began to speak, though it felt like his throat was closing. He paused every few words. “Three days ago, I was hunting, tracking a deer deep in the forest. When I finally caught up to her, I realized I was not the only one hunting her. There was a wolf pack, four or five of them. Two struck the doe, and one…he went for me. They left me for dead, seeing me as a rival hunter and took out the competition.

“But I did not die nor succumb to my wounds. That night…something happened to me, Azalea.” He knew using her name would upset her, but he refused to call her Mother; mothers didn’t do to their children what Azalea had done to him. “I became one of them,” he continued. “I could feel them all around me, smell exactly where they had been. It became necessary to follow, to find them. I fought the instinct, though, and I suppose in my moment of sanity—or delirium—I wound up a few miles from here as the sun rose.”

By the time he finished, his frustration at his difficulty speaking was at capacity. It felt like he had swallowed hot rocks.

“And now you have returned to me. For what?”

“Get it out of me.”

“Very well,” she said, unspoken words dangling at the end of her agreement.

“What is your price?” He looked up and met her steely gaze. Deep down, Matthias knew that what she wanted most in this world was the one thing he could not give her. Before the words came out of her mouth, he could hear them rattling around in her head and saw the thoughts forming in her eyes. In the past, Azalea had done everything in her power to ensure her son never left and, in doing so, forced him away. Now she held the power to ask anything she wanted, and he knew what it was.

“You must never leave.”

2

SILVANIA

THE YEAR OF THE MOON

RED

Her father shouted, the sound reverberating through the house. Red kept silent. She waited patiently in her warm crimson cloak with her wavy brown hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her daily chores always ended with a trip to her grandmother’s before sunset, but today, she was forced to wait while her father yelled at her mother. She hummed to drown it out, her rumbling stomach soon competing with her tune. She tried not to think of her hunger as she peered out the front window of the house. Their home sat at the end of town, with vast acreage behind them, most of it unkempt. They could not afford the upkeep.

The skies were lined with streaks of pinks and blues stretching as far as she could see; Red knew if she didn’t hurry, she would walk home from her grandmother’s in the dark. The hair on the back of her neck raised as she thought about what lurked in those woods. The feeling that the forest breathed down her neck never went away. Red closed her eyes to calm herself, but when she opened them, her heart lurched. Standing at the end of the path was a woman watching her through the window. Red felt naked, exposed, as the ghost-like girl studied her as if she could hear her every thought. She leaned in and squinted to get a better look, realizing it was Alina.

Red’s breath caught in her chest. The memory of last week’s meeting came flooding back to her. She almost tasted the stale air of the meeting hall.

Mayor Fischer spoke loudly at the forefront while the town’s youth shifted nervously in their seats. The wood benches, constructed from the deciduous trees of Mørke Forest, were nearly filled.

“Obeying your parents will bring you prosperity,” Mayor Fischer continued. It was the same speech he gave each week to the village youth. Every child who dwelled in their family home was forced to attend, lest they bring dishonor and punishment to their families.

Red sat in the middle, where she was surrounded by the others and yet perfectly invisible. So long as she sat with her back straight and her head high, no one questioned her attentiveness. Mayor Fischer’s voice filled the hall with a superiority that reminded her of her father’s.

Underneath the safety of her bonnet, she could spare glances at the others. As she did every week, she sought out one person in particular. Her white-blonde hair was easy to spot. The moment Red found Alina Nastaca, a woman beside her turned as though she knew Red was looking. She averted her gaze and sharply inhaled.

“Rose, are you alright?” a boy’s voice startled Red.

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