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She looks at me—and I know.

Not sex… not blood–something worse. A promise.

“The Sower gives the Harvest a future.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You choose the Bride.”

“I already choose you.”

“No.” She shakes her head violently. “Not like that.”

Roots tighten around her and she screams.

I grab them and they slice my hand.

“The ritual wants a vow.”

“What vow?”

“Belonging.” Her eyes find mine. “If the Sower chooses the Bride, she belongs to the Harvest.”

My blood freezes.

“No. I won’t.”

“Don’t.” she begs.

“I won’t.” I tell her.

“Promise me, Ezra.”

“I promise.”

The Earth opens beneath her and she screams again.

I grab her and Rhett grabs me while Malakai pulls her other arm but we’re being pulled down.

She looks at me with a terrified expression. “Don’t let it choose for you.”

“I won’t.”

The ground splits wider.

She slips.

“No!”

I grab her wrist and feel the red ribbon beneath my fingers.

She’s falling.

“EZRA!”

“I’ve got you!”

“You can’t!”