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He opened his mouth to speak, then paused for a moment as though figuring out what to say.

Red spoke for him. “He helped me. My grandmother is finally dead. She’ll never lay her hand on me again. Go on inside, take a look.”

No one needed to; they believed her.

Sorin glared up at the man, placing her hands on her voluptuous hips. “Our protection spell worked, then?”

“I’m not sure,” Red admitted. “The curse took me, yes…but he,” she pointed at the Wolf, “never lays a hand on any of the girls. In fact, he helps them. I know it didn’t work because he said he would have transformed and killed whomever my father wanted dead immediately after I arrived. It brought me to him, but nothing more.”

A silence filled the tense air around them; Sorin looked at the Wolf with distrust but softened as she considered Red’s words. The truth surrounded them—Red was untouched, and her grandmother was dead. The other girls were all safe, too.

“I have to kill my father,” Red continued. Feeling their eyes on her as they listened felt good. “I’ll need your help, all of you. After that, I have much bigger plans. I will need each and every one of you by my side.”

“What is it?” Lilianna asked, her eyes shining.

Red walked towards the Wolf and stood before him. “I will need your help. I understand that you do not wish to kill. I am sorry I ever asked it of you—from here on out, I will do better. I will take life with my own hands to gain what I seek.” She turned towards the four young women. “With your help, I can take Silvania and make it better, make it safe for people like us. The abused, the molested, the hunted.” She looked at the Wolf. “The cursed.”

“Red, what are you suggesting?” Alina asked.

“We will kill my father. Then we find the scroll that controls him.” She pointed at the Wolf. “We show the town that we have it, that we are more powerful than all of them. They will not try to string us up, burn us, or drive us out if we have him at our side. This town has been terrified of him for nearly four hundred years.”

“I will not be your pet,” the man snapped. “I have been controlled and used for centuries. I will not stand to be controlled by a group of girls—especially witches. I have had enough dealings with witches for my lifetime.”

“Listen to me,” Red said sternly. “We will never, ever use you for the curse; we have no daughters to sacrifice. With the scroll—which I am sure is in my home—the townsfolk will not dare undermine us. We do not have to use you for power. We will ensure that the curse never gets used again—and I promise we will one day find a way to sever your connection to it.”

He stared at Red as if wanting to believe her words. But whatever he saw in her eyes struck him with terror. He shook his head. “It will not work. Nothing can undo the curse.”

Sorin cut in. “I may know a way. The curse is powerful, yes, but I think it is quite simple. Old magic. You help us, and I will do everything in my power to help you.”

He looked desperate, clawing at any chance to be free. His head dropped. “I swore never to trust a witch again.”

“We have changed,” Sorin promised him.

“Give me your word,” he said after a moment of labored silence.

“I promise,” Sorin said.

“I promise,” Alina repeated.

Lilianna and Tatiana spoke simultaneously, pinkies interlacing as they said, “We promise.”

Red smiled. “I promise.”

31

OCLEAU

THE YEAR OF THE CURSE

JUNIPER

“Will you walk with me in the woods?” Azalea asked two hours before moonrise.

Juniper looked up at her mother. “Of course, Mama.”

The sky faded to a white-gray that reminded her of ash. It was going to snow. The route they took had no path—just the woods, unmolested by men. A pure place. They did not need to go far before Azalea stopped. “Here is good.”

“What happens here?” Juniper inquired quietly.