Page 48 of Blood Coven

Red glanced at the older two again. “We do not sever the curse until my father is dead. As a precautionary measure.”

The Wolf looked at her, his black eyes narrowed into slits.

Red knew the change in her was frightening, it made her shiver deep inside, but it had waited dormant for too long. She’d always felt something inside of her simmering below the surface. And now I will release it from its cage.

The Wolf had nothing to worry about; none of them had daughters to sacrifice. And yet, I have already made him kill someone.

Ignoring his glare, Red turned back to Tatiana and Lilianna. “Go. Be back before sunrise.”

They nodded and disappeared out the front door. No one had tended to the fire, and a chill crept into the house that then refused to leave. She wondered how Sorin planned to use her to undo the curse. Nervous but refusing to show it, she looked at the two witches flipping through books and scrolls.

“They have no idea what they are doing,” the Wolf snarled accusingly. “They are children, you are all children—I have put my fate into the hands of foolish young girls who think witchcraft will save them. It will not save you; it will be the death of you. I have seen hundreds of witches burned alive, half of whom were innocent women accused blindly. I do not wish to see the five of you suffer the same. Witchcraft is poison.”

Red was growing tired of his disdain. With venom in her voice, she hissed, “Witchcraft saved my life. Have a little faith, and it may save yours.”

He growled, but Alina cut in. “What choice do you have? What do you have to lose by trying?” She marched up to him and jabbed her finger into his chest again. “We have everything to lose by helping you. “

“This will not end the way you wish it to.” He turned his back on them, disappearing into the other room.

“Go after him,” Alina told Red. “We will continue here.”

Red left to ensure the Wolf wasn’t about to run. She found him seated on the bottom of the porch steps.

His filthy bare feet were planted firmly on the dirt. His hands were clasped in his lap, fingers unmoving. A gentle gust of wind blew his messy hair, but he did not appear to notice. No goosebumps prickled along his arms, though Red found herself chilled without her red cloak.

“Tell me more about Ana,” Red said.

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Is there anything you do wish to discuss?” Red implored. “I do not know your name—though it appears that neither do you. Perhaps if you talked about what you do remember, you might recall more of your past.”

“What makes you think I wish to remember anything? I remember every single family I slaughtered, I remember every single girl that came to me as you did, I remember every detail of every murder except hers.” His voice broke slightly. “I just remember waking up with blood on my hands, her corpse so mauled I could hardly make out her face.”

He sighed deeply, as though speaking about it was slowly revealing his guilt to the world. Red wanted to wrap her hands around that guilt and take it away from him if it would mean he would open up to her. I want to know more, about him, about Ana, about how he came to be. He is the last person alive from when it happened. What a burden that must be.

“It snowed that day. I remember it being fiercely cold. I remember…sickness. She was sick.” He glanced at his hands, caked with dirt. His brows pulled tight, pain etching into his downturned mouth. “It does not matter how I recall it anymore; the outcome is always the same. Her blood on my hands, on my tongue, dripping from my hair, my naked body… They strung me up after. They were going to kill me—and I still wish they had.”

“Could they have killed you?” Red asked. “You have lived this long; surely nothing can.”

“I have tried many times. Over the years, I learned only one thing can kill me; one hundred years of starvation.” He glanced forlornly out at the forest. The sun was going to make its appearance soon, and the moon would take her leave. “I tried to do it, you know. To starve myself. I wasn’t strong enough.”

Red softened, his words melting her angry resolve. “I am sorry this has happened to you. If anyone can separate you from the curse, it is Sorin.” Red hoped that he would believe her words as she did. “I won’t…I won’t use you for power. It is not right to ask that of you when it is all that has been asked of you for so long. Once we sever the curse, you’re free to go. Choose life, choose death, choose to stand by our sides—the choice is yours. Can you forgive me for what I made you do?”

He looked at her, confusion in his eyes.

Red truly did want his forgiveness but knew she would use any means possible to change Silvania. The Wolf doesn’t need to be privy to that, though, she thought.

“Yes,” he answered. “I forgive you.”

She smiled, flooded by a rush of warmth at the thought that things would be different from now on.

A red cloak appeared as Tatianna came through the forest shadows with Lilianna close behind, clutching the scroll in her hands.

“He’s coming,” Tatiana said.

33

OCLEAU

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