For a heartbeat, I was back in the attic at Prideaux Hill, counting the cracks in the ceiling, trying not to cry loudly enough for her to hear. Back in that narrow bed, convincing myself that if I behaved well enough, if I prayed hard enough, if I proved myself useful enough, she would look at me and see something worth loving.
But that was not my life anymore.
My home was Château Rose. No.My home was Bastien. The thought of him gave me strength. “Prideaux Hill was never my home,” I said, finally finding my voice. “It was a prison.”
She yanked my head back so hard stars burst across my vision. “Was it now? This time, you’ll be in a cage instead of a bedroom.”
I clawed uselessly at her wrist as she dragged me down the stairs and through the tunnels of Chastity’s Stronghold. I tried to fight her at every turn, but her magick compelled me forward. I tried to become the consequence, to spread rot into her body, but my power wasn’t responding. I knew it was because I’d used too much of it during the battle. That’s why Gorrath had stopped me. He hadn’t wanted me to pass out.
We made it to another large door, where a group of half-transformed werewolves was waiting. Ropes were tied around my wrists, and a blindfold was tied around my eyes. Then I was shoved outside, into the cold wind, and tossed into a dark room. A door slammed shut. Suddenly, I was jolted forward, thrown sideways onto a hard bench. A silent scream built in my throat as the floor shifted again, and I fell forward onto hands and knees, feeling like I might be sick. There was something inside me that needed to come out.
“Be the fighter,” a gruff voice said.“Be the consequence.” Tears streamed from my eyes, soaking into the blindfold. How could I fight when I was alone?“You’re not alone,”Gorrath insisted.“You have me. And Bastien. And friends.Now fight!”
I drew in a few calming breaths to slow my thoughts. When I quieted my mind, the answers came. Bastien had told me not all magick required a specific spell. My intuition was more powerful than someone else’s words. When Gorrath taught me to spread disease, he hadn’t given me a spell. He’d told me to become the thing that silently crept inside bodies. Turning the hate and bad intentions into rot.
And then Imogen’s words. The ones I’d been so afraid of. She’d told me I needed to die to break the curse.
I held all of this inside me, sitting with it while the carriage swayed. Suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. It was a wild, reckless plan, but it was the only thing I could think to do. I swallowed hard, fighting back tears, and forced myself to stand. Each bump caused the carriage to rock, and I nearly toppled over more than once. With my hands bound and eyes covered, I searched for the lever that would open the carriage door with my fingertips. With the jolts and bumps, I nearly gave up hope that I’d ever find it, when my fingers found something smooth and cold.
The handle.
I closed my eyes and called to the fire inside me. To the magick that had chosen me. And to the spark of life that lived inside me. The baby that would be born a vampire.
Heat dripped through me like sweat. Like tears. Like a reckoning.
Gorrath thought we needed to come together to make a spell. But I already had all three of us inside me. I already had the answer. All I had to do was be brave enough to jump.
I pressed down on the lever, and the latch gave way. The door flew open. A rush of frigid wind whipped across my cheeks and through my hair. Of course, Mama didn’t think to lock it. She only knew the broken girl I’d been when I leftPrideaux Hill. She didn’t know the woman I had become. Or the witch I’d learned to be.
I had rebuilt myself from the wreckage she left behind. And now, I was the consequence.
The carriage thundered forward. I could hear the horses straining, the wheels grinding over frozen earth. Somewhere ahead, water roared.
“I’ve already died,” I whispered into the wind. To the goddess. To the god. “I’ve already drowned in my own hate. And I was reborn in love. In his arms.”
For a heartbeat, I felt the old voice of fear. The little girl who knew running away wouldn’t do anything except make things worse. I comforted her and reassured her. “We are never going back. Never.”
This curse only had as much control over me as I allowed. And I was no longer consenting to be controlled.
“Won’t it hurt when we fall?”the little voice inside me asked.
“We’re not going to fall,” I said. “We’re going tofly.”
A spark of heat and the scent of smoke filled my nostrils. The fire inside me surged outward, devouring the ropes around my wrists in a hiss of flame until they fell away.
With a sigh of relief, I removed the blindfold. The world came roaring to life around me. The moon was nothing but a sliver in the sky. I smiled up at her as my fingers traced the lace that had choked me for so long. It was a symbol of obedience. Of silence. Of shame.
I twisted it around my fingers. “The woman who bore this curse is dead.”
I gave the lace a sharp yank, but it remained locked around my throat. I didn’t understand. It should’ve ended. I’d followed my intuition. I’d listened. I had all three powers inside me.
“You still need her blood.”Gorrath’s voice.“Blood is owed.”
I set my teeth. I couldn’t just flyback to Bastien. Not if I wanted to end this for good. Which meant I still had work to do.
With my face in the wind, I remembered the way Cora mounted a broom and took off into the night. Bastien had said it was a power held by very few Witches of the Darkness.
I spread my arms, imagining being weightless and free. Bending my knees, I leapt into the air.
