Page 59 of Blood Coven

Taking one final breath of fresh air, she held it as the smoke reached her. Her feet grew warmer, sweat beading on her skin. As her clothing caught fire, Azalea felt searing pain as her skin singed. Her lungs burned with every breath she took. Her only solace was to look up and hope some clean air could penetrate the thick smoke. It did not help, but she was able to open her eyes once again. Overhead, despite the heavy smoke, Aegidius sat upon a sturdy branch, overseeing his witch’s death.

She finally allowed herself to scream as the fire consumed her. She had promised herself she would remain silent, but the pain was too much. Never before had she been so aware of her body and her mortality. Only a minute or two had gone by since Matthias had lit the pyre, her own son becoming the bringer of her death. She could not blame him; he played her game, and he played it better than she had. She took her final, smoke-filled breath before death crept in to claim her.

It came as a relief.

40

SILVANIA

THE YEAR OF THE MOON

BLAEZ

Red writhed as Alina dropped to her knees and let the dagger fall to the ground. The clatter of the dagger was masked by the flurry of words coming from Alina’s mouth. None of it was comprehensible, but the Wolf knew what she was saying. He shouted similar things when he discovered Ana’s death.

Red was mumbling, a gurgle of blood disturbing her words. But he could hear it clearly. “Summum hoc imperii…”

She was trying to finish breaking his curse. Something inside of him curled in on itself, his stomach twisting. Shutting his eyes, he waited for the relief that would come. But the words tapered off. He shot his eyes open and looked at the two women next to him on the floor.

Alina reached her hands around the back of Red’s neck and lifted her head, but it fell back down when Alina released her.

Rose Luca was dead, and he was still cursed.

Alina’s hands fluttered over the wound, unsure how to heal such a gaping wound. Her hands pressed against it, and when Red didn’t flinch, Alina realized it was for naught.

“No,” she whimpered. Then she looked up at the faces all staring at her. “Save her, Sorin. Someone, anyone…”

“She’s gone,” Sorin replied solemnly.

The Wolf inhaled deeply, looking up at the ceiling where he noticed a streak of blood from the massacre. He should have known better; that a handful of young witches in way over their heads couldn’t break a curse created by an evil, seasoned witch. A deep, carnal scream that had been built for four hundred years finally came out. His yell shook the house, and when it was over, he felt no better.

His eyes went back to the family tree. It was a punch to his gut as he saw her name there.

Ana’s name.

How this eluded him all these years, he did not know. How could he have been so easily played not just by Azalea but by Matthias and Ana as well? After everything he did for her, she had the decency to curse him like this for eternity, to make him think he had her blood on his hands for four hundred years—it surprised him, but it all added up.

She never wanted to be with me. Yet to get rid of him in such a brutal manner, that’s what would have broken him if he hadn’t already been shattered hundreds of times.

She had children with him. With Matthias Luca.

He gritted his teeth, leaving the circle and flopping down on the couch behind him in defeat. In life, no one came out unscathed. Possibly the last Luca was dead on the floor, and he should have been thankful. Yet he felt guilty for her death. The curse still remained, the scroll perfectly intact in Sorin’s shaking hands. He would be used again and again. When he woke to the woman he thought was Ana, torn apart, he wanted to die. After all he had done, it had been so she would be safe. Knowing now that she betrayed him, used his softness, and abused his kindness… It made everything so much worse.

Why hadn’t she just let him leave?

“What happened?” Tatiana asked.

“The protection spell didn’t work,” Lilianna said.

“She was protected from the Wolf, not this man,” Sorin said in defense of her spell.

“What about Alina? How is she protected from love?” Tatiana shouted. “I do not understand!”

“I do,” Alina said with a stony look on her face. “The only way to be protected from love is to have nothing to love.”

“She is right,” the Wolf said, glancing her way and offering a look that he hoped conveyed sympathy. Alina didn’t respond, her marble expression impenetrable. It would remain that way for the rest of her life, he knew; he wore the same face after he thought he murdered Ana.

The memory flashed before him.

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