Page 176 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 3

T he Harpy stood over the body, her talons and claws slick with blood, her wings folding slowly behind her. The glow in her eyes burned brighter as she turned to face me, her lips curving into a faint, satisfied smile.

“Do you still wish to stay, little lamb?” she sang, her voice soft, teasing, but with an edge that made my stomach twist.

“For now you’ve seen what price is paid,

to wander where the dead have stayed.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I could.

Her song faded into silence, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing. The weight of her gaze settled over me, heavy and unrelenting. Her talons gave a sickening crunch as she stepped through the monster she defeated as her wings cast shadows that stretched far beyond their reach.

“And what would you give,” she sang softly, her voice curling around me like smoke,

“to steal a prize that none may hold?

A heart, a breath, a soul to fold—

would you give these, little lamb?”

My grip tightened on the dagger, though I didn’t draw it. “I told you already. It’s not for me. My mother—she’s dying. If there’s even a chance this relic can save her, I’ll take it.”

Her wings shifted slightly, the faint sound of feathers brushing against each other like whispers. Her head tilted, her glowing eyes narrowing as her lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile. “ And do you think she would take it?”

I blinked, the question catching me off guard. “What?”

“ Your mother ,” she said, the song threading through her words.

“Would she take what costs so dear,

the stolen breath, the stolen fear?

Would she claim what you would give,

and bear the weight so she might live?”

I swallowed, my chest tightening. “What are you talking about? I’d give it willingly. It wouldn’t cost her anything.”

Her laughter came soft and sharp, like the distant crack of a tree falling in the woods. “Oh, little lamb,” she sang, and the pity in her voice made my stomach twist. “You still don’t understand.”

Her talons moved again, dragging lightly against the stone. The sound was almost rhythmic, a slow, deliberate beat that set my teeth on edge. “There is no gift without a cost,” she sang, her voice dipping into something colder.

“The relic’s glow,

the mortal’s price,

to steal a cure,

you’ll pay it thrice.

Your blood,

your breath,

your soul in store,

and when it’s gone,

you’ll give me more.”

I forced myself not to step back, though every instinct screamed at me to run. “I don’t care about the cost,” I said, my voice edged with desperation. “I’ll pay it.”

She tilted her head again, her gaze sharp and unblinking. “Do you truly mean that?” she asked, her song softening into something quieter, more dangerous.

“For many say,

but few will do,

and fewer still can pay their due.

But if you stand,

if you endure,

you’ll learn the cost of what you cure.”

“I mean it,” I said, though my voice trembled now.

Her smile widened—not cruel this time, but something worse, something knowing. “Then let me see,” she sang, her talons lifting, blood glinting faintly in the moonlight. “Give me your hand.”

My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared at her claws. For a moment, the world felt too still, too heavy, and I couldn’t move. Her gaze didn’t waver, and the air between us grew colder, sharper, like the edge of a blade.

When I didn’t move, her voice returned, soft and almost... amused.

“A lamb that trembles,

a heart that pounds,

but courage falters where fear abounds.

Will you give it, little lamb,

or must I take it from your hand?”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. Slowly, I lifted my hand, my palm outstretched, though my fingers trembled. Her claws brushed against my skin, light as a whisper, and the chill of her touch sank deep into my bones.

Her eyes narrowed, and the song returned, low and almost a whisper.

“So warm,

so sweet,

so fragile still,

a mortal heart,

a mortal will.

But will it break,

or will it burn,

when faced with truths you cannot turn?”

“What truths?” I asked, though my voice barely came out through the lump in my throat.

Her claws tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to hold me in place. “You’ll see,” she said, her voice dropping into something darker.

“For every choice demands a price,

and all the truth is paid in slices.”

Her claws lingered on my hand, and for a moment, I thought I felt the faintest warmth beneath their cold, razor-sharp surface. She tilted her head, her glowing eyes narrowing as her wings folded behind her. The silence stretched between us, heavy and expectant, until her lips curved into a faint, almost secretive smile.

“You want the relic,” she sang softly, her voice curling through the air like smoke.

“To save a life,

to mend a thread,

to chase the dark,

to raise the dead.

But what you seek is bound to me,

a gift that comes with no decree.”

I frowned, her words twisting in my mind like a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve. “What are you saying?”

Her smile widened, and she stepped closer, her talons trailing lightly at the edge of my coat. “The relic,” she said, her voice dipping lower, the song wrapping tighter around me.

“It lies within,

it lives,

it breathes,

it takes,

it binds,

it weaves,

it feeds.

And if you want its power bright,

you’ll bind yourself to me tonight.”

I stared at her, the words sinking in too slowly, like a knife dragging through thick cloth. “Bind myself?” I asked, my voice catching on the question.

Her wings shifted, and she leaned in closer, her glowing eyes narrowing. “Did you think the relic would sit idle, waiting for mortal hands to claim it?” she asked, the melody laced with amusement.

“It is no stone,

no golden prize,

but life itself in shadow’s guise.

It flows through me,

it feeds my breath,

it grants your wish but courts your death.”

The air seemed to thicken around me, heavy and unyielding, as her meaning sank in. “The relic... it’s you.”

Her smile softened, though there was nothing kind about it. “Clever,” she murmured, her song slipping into a low hum. “Yes, it is me. My power. My life. My gift. And if you want it, you’ll give me something in return.”

“What do you want?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

Her claws lifted, brushing lightly against my wrist, and the touch sent a shiver through me that wasn’t entirely fear. Her voice softened as she sang,

“A bond,

a thread,

a tether tight,

to bind you here beneath my light.

A mortal’s heart,

a mortal’s soul,

to fill the cracks and make me whole.”

“A bond?” I echoed, my throat tightening. “You mean... I’d be tied to you?”

Her eyes glowed brighter, her smile sharpening as she nodded. “In body, in breath, in soul,” she said, her voice lilting.

“You’ll live,

you’ll heal,

you’ll taste the cure,

but you’ll be mine,

of that be sure.”

I tried to step back, but her claws tightened slightly around my wrist, holding me in place. “And if I say no?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

Her song darkened, the melody dipping into something colder.

“Then leave, my lamb,

and carry guilt,

for what you lose,

for what you’ve built.

But if you stay,

if you consent,

your mortal thread will be well spent.”

My chest tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on me. I couldn’t decide what terrified me more—the binding itself or the fact that I was actually considering it.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely steady as I said, “If this bond means my mother will live, then... then I’ll do it.”

Her lips curved into a smile that seemed almost... pleased.

“Good,” she said, her claws releasing me slowly. “But words are not enough, little lamb. The bond must be sealed.”

I hesitated. “How?”

Her song softened, growing quieter, more intimate.

“With blood,

with touch,

with soul combined,

with shadow’s mark,

your life entwined.

Do you consent,

with breath you take,

to bind yourself and what’s at stake?”

I met her gaze, my heart pounding as her claws brushed lightly against my skin. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind the glow of her eyes—something softer, something human. And then I nodded.

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Her smile widened, and her wings stretched behind her, casting a shadow over us both. “Then let us begin,” she sang, her voice a low, haunting melody that wrapped around me like a shroud.