CHAPTER 3: THE UNHOLY BAPTISM

The pool had swallowed Sabrina whole.

Julian plunged in after her, the liquid burning like ice and whiskey—the same way Sabrina's kisses had tasted that first night under the willows. Deeper he swam, through schools of fingerbones that nipped at his skin, past drifting locks of raven hair that twined around his limbs like memories.

Then he saw her.

Sabrina floated enshrined in willow roots, her body pierced through in a dozen places, each wound blooming with white flowers. Her eyes flew open—still violet, but flickering with recognition.

Julian. Her lips shaped his name silently as a root slithered between her parted lips.

The child appeared beside him, now wearing his father's face. "She holds the grove's heart now," it whispered, pressing a hand to Julian's chest. "Just as you will hold its rage."

Above them, the roots parted to reveal Elias Thorne's suspended body—alive, his mouth sewn shut with vines, his eyes begging.

Sabrina's fingers twitched toward Julian, her wedding ring glowing red-hot against the invading roots.

"Take it," the child urged, pressing Julian's dagger into his hand. "Cut Father free. Let his blood wake the grove properly this time."

Julian raised the blade—

—and plunged it into the child's throat.

Black sap gushed over his hands as the thing giggled through the wound.

"Silly Father," it gurgled. "I don't have blood. But she does."

Behind Julian, Sabrina screamed as the roots violently bloomed.

CHAPTER END: The cavern filled with choking pollen as Sabrina's skin split open with a hundred new blossoms.