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The muzzle bit into my face.I bit my cheek to keep from screaming.

She circled me slowly.Red cloak sweeping the ground, untouched by the filth.She lifted a black apple in her palm.It didn’t shine.It absorbed light.Absorbedeverything.

“Do you know what this is?”she asked.

I didn’t answer.I didn’t need to.Everyone in our world knew the Apple of Ashes.

“It took me twenty years,” she said, eyes gleaming.“Three husbands.Seven witches.Your father.And now, you.”

The apple hovered just inches from my mouth.

“Bite,” she ordered.“And in return, I’ll live forever.”

I didn’t move.Couldn’t.Well, physically I could.The muzzle would only allow for me to follow my step-mother's commands, but nothing else.But I didn’t break.

She reached for the muzzle’s clasp.“Such spirit,” she muttered.“Your mother had it too.Until she drowned.”

That snapped something inside me.

The sky darkened.Shadows stretched.The sun was nearly gone.And Ifeltthem.

The bond surged.Seven lines of heat and fury racing toward the clearing.Garrett.Ronan.Kade.Evander.Cassian.Leif.Nikolai.Human again.Powerful again.But held back.Still caught behind the ritual’s barrier.

“They can’t save you,” she said, voice brittle now.She felt them too.Her fingers trembled.

The chanting swelled.Acolytes lit the blood symbols with their own power.The circle burned sickly green.

I closed my eyes.I didn’t pray for rescue.

I prayed for vengeance.

The clasp fell open.The muzzle dropped from my mouth.

She lifted the apple.Triumphant.

“Bite,” she whispered.

I opened my mouth.

And I spoke.

The words weren’t mine, not entirely.They came from somewhere deeper.Older.The language of sacrifice.Of reversal.Of blood claimed instead of given.Winterbourne.

Her eyes widened.She tried to pull the apple back.

Too late.

The runes flared… not hers anymore.Mine.

The ritual turned on itself.

Seven bonds surged forward, no longer silenced by chains or spellwork.The forest heard me now.

The altar pulsed.

The apple shook in her hands.

And then?—