Series: The Sacrifice Series by Natasha Knight
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“If you could, then you would have.” Nan nods to the paper in my hand, and when I follow her gaze, I’m confused to see I’ve crumpled it into a little ball in my fist as if to protect it.
“I don’t want this,” I tell her.
“You mean you don’t want to get hurt,” she answers softly.
When I can’t find the words to dispute her observation, she comes closer, her attention drifting to the open spell page. There’s no denying it confirms what she just said.
“Does he love you, Willow?”
Her words catch me off guard, and I don’t know how to answer other than to tell her what I’ve been telling myself.
“No.”
“But he came for you,” she points out. “He rescued you.”
“Because it has to be him.” I turn away in frustration. “He has to be the one to do it.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
“Nanna, you have to help me.” I turn back to her, desperation clawing at my insides. “I know if anyone can find a way to break this curse, it’s you.”
She offers me a knowing smile as she comes closer, brushing my hair back the way she always did when I was a child. “No, Willow. It’s never been me who held that power. But have you ever stopped to consider that maybe you do?”
I stare at her in confusion, tired of all these riddles. “How?”
“A Delacroix has never fallen in love with a Wildblood before,” she observes. “They have wanted. They have claimed. But they have never loved until you.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I repeat.
“A pregnancy has never happened between a match either,” she says. “You’re the first.”
“It was an accident,” I murmur.
“Was it?” She raises a brow. “Or is it part of something bigger?”
Exhaustion settles over me as I shake my head in defeat. “Nan, I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to remember who you are,” she tells me. “The same sweet, beautiful, loving girl I’ve always known. The one with the soft and tender heart. The one who I always knew was special. You have something in you, Willow. Something that others recognize they lack in themselves. Your heart is pure, and you have so many gifts you haven’t even come to understand yet. But the greatest gift you have is that of your capacity to love.”
“What does any of that matter if we are doomed because of Elizabeth’s curse?”
“Are you?” she questions.
I sigh, realizing I’m getting nowhere with her. She’s talking in circles, and I don’t have the mental energy to participate.
“Okay, Nan.” I close the spell book and return it to her trunk before putting away the rest of the things I gathered.
She watches with a strange twinkle in her eye. I wonder if she’s been drinking too much psychedelic tea again as I head for the door.
“I better get back down there before they send a search party.”
“You know, Willow,” she muses. “I often think that Elizabeth had quite a sense of humor.”
“What do you mean?” I glance back at her in question.
“I mean, if you think about her curse.” She smiles. “What could be worse for the Delacroix family than to have one of their own fall for a Wildblood?”
10
AZRAEL
I stand beside my brother staring at the altar of Shemhazai.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head.
Where the slab of stone had split into two during the lightning storm, it now lays in three pieces.
“Think Gran’s seen it?” he asks.
“I doubt it.” I haven’t talked to Salomé since the other night. She’s been keeping to herself in her room, and I’ve avoided her as much as possible. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget her words. I can’t lessen their impact.
“If she had, I’m sure she’d be out here praying for our salvation,” Emmanuel says. He crouches down, tries to move the heavy stone, shakes his head.
“No doubt. It must have been weakened by the initial break,” I say, wanting to make sense out of it. I look up at the demon-angel’s face, his expression as malevolent as ever.
Emmanuel straightens up, dusts off his hands. “Mhm.” He glances up at the thing, then at me.
“I’m taking it down anyway,” I say, trying to go for casual. Failing.
Emmanuel studies me for an unending minute. “You’re not going to do it.”
I turn to face him.
“The curse. The sacrifice. You’re not going through with it.”
I don’t respond but my silence is answer enough. I can’t do it. He must know that. He must have figured it out when we went after the Disciples to get all three of them back. If he thought the urgency was for Bec, well, I think anyone who saw me hold Willow in that cabin would know that it wasn’t only Bec I went to save. To bring home.
Strange that it took Salomé’s mocking, hateful words to make me look at myself. To make me see.