She still didn’t know if Gaia had accepted her sacrifice, or maybe it wouldn’t happen until midnight, when Philip usually changed.
Would she drop dead at that time, or would her gifts be the only requirement?
The parlor was closing in on her, as was the house. Further, the emotions from Philip’s family were nearly suffocating her.
Antonia placed a hand against her heart and stepped out onto the terrace, then kept walking further and further until she reached the water and could no longer feel them.
She would not miss the noise once the gift was taken. If she died, she would not miss much of anything.
Unless Gaia made her keep the most unpleasant gift as a sacrifice and Antonia would readily accept it if it meant the spell had been reversed.
But, just in case her death was imminent, Antonia sat to pray. She may have made a sacrifice to a goddess earlier, but her faith was still in God, who she worshiped nearly every Sunday. Witches could be Christians even if everyone thought they were in league with the devil.
Antonia bowed her head and silently spoke from her heart asking for forgiveness of her sins, being thankful for blessings and gifts, then forgiveness for sacrificing to a goddess if that was a sin.
Soon, her soul was at peace. She did not want to die yet it was the bargain she had struck.
When she lifted her head, a calmness fell around her as she noted that the witches had joined her.
“It nears midnight,” Petra said quietly.
Antonia took the small timepiece that had been pinned inside of her gown and watched as the large hand reached twelve, and just as it did, a wolf howled in the distance.
It hadn’t worked. None of it had worked and now Philip was going to suffer for the rest of his life.
Tears filled her eyes as Antonia dropped to her knees. Sobs racked her body as she rocked back and forth. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to be cured.
Pain engulfed her very soul, and Antonia wasn’t certain she’d ever recover, or ever forgive herself.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Philip remained in his clothing because tonight it did not matter, nor did he care for what he was wearing. Shackles had been attached to each wrist and ankle, just in case. His cousins and brothers were strong enough to control him, or so he assumed, but Amcaster was there to use magic if necessary and if he needed to be subdued or transported to the cells below the house.
If Gaia accepted his sacrifice, then once he turned into a wolf, he would never be human again, so his clothing really didn’t matter anyway.
Stefanos, the youngest at only eighteen, stood off to the side with a timepiece and Philip waited for the ringing and buzzing in his ears, and the dizziness, but it did not come, nor did any pain.
“It is midnight?” he asked just as a wolf howled in the distance.
“Yes.”
“We will wait.”
Which they did, and Philip was aware of everything within his being. A steady heartbeat, clear sounds of nature, and no pain.
“It has been a quarter of an hour,” Stefanos said.
“You didn’t change,” Simon stated the obvious.
Which meant Antonia’s sacrifice had been accepted. In that moment, fear, stronger than anything he had ever experienced filled his being. What had she been forced to sacrifice?
“Get these shackles off of me,” he barked.
Simon struggled with the key in the rusty locks, just as he had when securing them, and Philip grew impatient.
He glared at Amcaster. “Do something.”
His friend rolled his eyes and with a wave of a hand, the shackles fell away.
