Page 115 of Savage Sacrifice
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the latter affirms, and I purse my lips.
“Don’t I? Or are you forgetting I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Belladora. I’m not going to lie, she seems as trapped in the curse as we are. Come to think of it, everyone seems trapped in the curse except you.” My words hang in the air like a rope, threatening to take the next one down, when Juniper waves me off, trying to soften her features and approach, but it’s too late now, I’ve seen the real version of her.
“You’re ridiculous. I told you I was a Florentine’s girl,” she proclaims, and I roll my eyes.
“Another lie. How about you cut to the part where you tell us why?” I retort, and she glowers at me, her charade falling just as quickly as she tried to put it in place.
“You don’t deserve reasoning,” she snaps, and I match her ruthless stare with one of my own.
“I deserve the truth if I’m going to die for it,” I declare, my voice booming with intensity as I fight back, and she laughs. It’s hollow, tainted, and venomous.
“Belladora was an abomination. Not just with her coven, but from the day she was born,” she roars, unable to contain her emotions as she trembles with rage.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I push, refusing to relent, but she doesn’t need much to tip her over the edge.
“As the eldest daughter of my bloodline, raised in the middle of damnation, I was determined to be more than my namesake. That’s when The Renegades were formed, growing stronger and stronger with every new member, to the point that we had to branch off and spread our power across not just the country, but the world. That is how powerful we are. Only the best of the best, reigning supreme across the globe. A creation of my making. Yet, when my dear sister came of age, she chose not to join us. The power I wielded was unrecognized or unappreciated in her eyes. Instead, she chose to form a coven of her own. One without weight, without conviction, without morals or principles. She wanted to tarnish my legacy, my accolades, for what? A coven ruined by the likes of wolves and vampires, tainting not only our magic, but our name.”
Every word is spoken with unfiltered hatred. Every word is spoken from her heart.
“Belladora is your sister,” I breathe, latching on to the facts instead of pandering to her desire for power.
“She was. That stopped the day she chose them over me,” she growls, her eyes wild, even under the dim lighting.
“You mean the day she chose love,” I clarify, and she sneers.
“That’s not love, that’s?—”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I interject. I’ve listened to enough of her hate campaign. Now it’s time for her to listen. “Love is just that. A four-letter word that holds no bounds. It doesn’t care who you are, where you are from, or what you believe. It grabs hold of your soul and doesn’t let go. It’s consuming and intoxicating, but it’s real. It can guide you into the light when your eyes have only ever been closed. Sure, it may not always lead you down the path you’re meant to take, but it will guide you to the right path eventually, providing joy, happiness, and dreams. If you only see it through your own eyes, selfishly instead of selflessly, then maybe you don’t deserve to understand what love is, maybe the issue is, you’ve never truly felt it.”
She roars, thrusting her hands in my direction, and I’m knocked off my feet a moment later. I’m floating, up, up, up, swirling as a scream lodges in my throat, before I’m falling, down, down, down, slamming into bodies that soften my blow as I hit the floor.
Blinking through the haze, I find it’s Lincoln and Tatum beneath me, but I quickly rush to my feet, turning to stare off with the crazed woman before me.
“You’re going to regret that,” Lincoln snarls, hands fisted at his sides as he flexes his head from side to side, and Bryony snickers.
“You’re going to regret not trying to kill me when you had the chance,” she preens, flashing her arm at him, a reminder that they’re bound by blood.
“Polaris, she’s alive?” The gasp rings from behind me, a distraction in the chaos that already surrounds me, and I turn to find Sian gaping at me.
Dammit.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
She lurches toward me, but Blaze quickly gathers her in his arms, restraining her. I trust him to keep her at bay, instead turning my attention back to the three messed-up witches before me, only to find the coven no longer hiding in the shadows. They’re inching closer, creating a ring around us with their hands clasped together.
“It’s time,” Whitmore says gleefully, raising his hands in the air, and the coven begins to chant.
I can’t decipher the words over the thunder of my pulse in my ears, even as they grow louder.
“Polaris!” Tatum yells beside me, panic in his voice, and I blink at him a split second before I’m lifted off my feet again, only this time, it’s not with rage-induced force.
I’m floating, hovering above the ground, weightlessly, yet my body is stiff, held in position against my will. I continue to levitate higher and higher as Lincoln calls out my name too.
It’s nearly impossible for me to look at him. I can’t tilt my head. All I can do is look down at him at an awkward angle as the chants seem to grow louder and louder. It’s difficult to make out his silhouette as a flash of light dances around me, a glow so bright it hurts my eyes, and that’s when I see it.
It’s my hair.
It’s glowing, floating around my face in unkept tendrils as it lights up the room.
