Page 102 of Savage Sacrifice
“I think I want the long story now.”
The Crow snickers. “Too late, sunshine. Maybe another day,” he rasps, and Asher snarls.
“The deal, Crow,” he bites, irritation rippling from him in waves.
“Hmm… maybe a little storywouldhelp,” he offers, and Asher growls, baring his teeth.
“Stop fucking around.”
The Crow pays him no mind as his entire demeanor relaxes. He taps at his chin in thought before his eyes widen and he glances between us.
“How does it go again? ‘When the sun bleeds gold and the moon weeps red, six souls shall rise where old hearts have bled. Bound by blood and fate’s cruel thread, they’ll walk the path where memories tread. Each must yield what none would give, so others lost may learn to live. In sacrifice, their truthswill burn, and from that fire, hope shall return. One heals the wound, one bears the pain, one breaks the past, one weaves the chain. One guards the light, one walks the shade—together whole, or all shall fade. Gone be the kin and the cursed decree, as love prevails for eternity. Under blackened skies and twisted tradition, a world once lost shall be forgiven.’ That’s it, right?”
“How do you know that?” I blurt, the worry running through my veins thrumming with anticipation, and he shrugs.
“How do I know many things?” He gives me his infamous head tilt, making my nostrils flare with anger.
“Fuck your riddles. Get out,” I snap, but it’s as if he doesn’t hear me as he proceeds.
“‘In sacrifice, their truths will burn, and from that fire, hope shall return. One heals the wound.’ Hmm… now, let’s think, who might that reference? Ah, maybe… Blaze?”
My heart all but stops. My pulse thunders in my ears as every nerve ending fizzles on the edge of my sanity. He’s got us exactly where he wants us, and the shady grin on his lips only confirms it because that would reference Blaze, when he healed Tatum’s wound.
“What else? ‘One bears the pain.’” His words hang in the air for what feels like an eternity as he stares at me. Every breath I take confirms it, but I don’t say a word, I can’t. “That would be our feisty little ball of sunshine right here. She died to sacrifice herself for her blood kin. She felt the pain to save her friend.” He almost sounds taunting, but I can only heave each breath into my lungs. It takes all of my energy, leaving nothing left to give this asshole a piece of my mind.
“Now, ‘one breaks the past.’ Any guesses?” He opens his hands out wide, encouraging us to partake in his charade.
“Lincoln,” Asher grunts, and The Crow claps his hands three times, obnoxiously loud, before he nods.
“Ding, ding, ding. One point to you, Asher. So, the only other person who has sacrificed to change a coin is Tatum. What do you think he did? Weave the chain, guard the light, or walk the shade?”
I know the answer instantly.
“He walked the shade,” I whisper, and The Crow’s manic grin turns my way. “He walked the shade by killing your right-hand man,” I add, wanting to drive the point home, but he doesn’t seem mad or angry.
“He did exactly as I wanted him to, Polaris. Don’t you forget it.”
I frown, recalling that night entirely differently, but before I can push him on it, his focus is back on Asher. “Which leaves the choice to guard the light or weave the chains. One of them is for you. Can you guess which?”
Asher’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares at the man who has tormented him for so long. “You’re going to have to tell me,” he grunts.
The Crow steps closer, until they’re almost toe to toe, with the tip of his mask a mere millimeter from Asher’s face. “Wield the chain, Asher. Take my mask.”
“Your mask?” I blurt in confusion, my hold on Asher somehow managing to grow tighter as I cling to him for dear life.
“Wield the chain,” The Crow repeats, taking his top hat off to reveal waves of brown hair.
“Asher, wait,” I whisper as The Crow discards the hat without a second glance, offering a better glimpse of the mask that rests on his face, and I quickly realize there’s no strap around the back. It’s almost as if… it’s a part of him, melded to the skin around his face.
“Do it, Asher,” he encourages, making me bite back a scream of exasperation.
“Asher, please,” I state louder, turning to give my wolf my full attention, but when his eyes find mine, I know he’s already made his decision.
“I love you, Silver. All forms, remember?”
My heart aches. “Asher,” I breathe, terror coiling through my veins as he tries to pull his hand free of mine. I hold on with all my strength, but even as it unravels in slow motion, there’s no stopping it.
Asher uses his free hand, lifting it toward the mask. He hasn’t even asked him what the other end of the bargain is; he’s going in blind. The moment his hand is near The Crow’s face, the vile man in question grabs it, bringing it to the elongated nose of his mask.
