Page 71 of May: Bloom & Bane

“Silence!” Thick roots punch through the ground. They surge forward, wrapping around his ankles and pulling him to his knees.

Eden’s eyes find mine, and her hand instantly covers the wound on her wrist.

“Sage, wait. Stop!”

“He put his mouth on you. He tasted the only thing in this world that belongs to me.”

I storm toward Famine.

“I told him to!” she screams.

“You—” My magic falters. The thick, thorny roots stop their crawl. I stand frozen, the water in my hair turning to steam against my heated skin. “You what?” The skin on the left side of my face flickers.

She smells of him, Ashán snarls. Mark her again. NOW.

Eden steps forward, shielding the Horseman kneeling on the ground.

“He was dying, Sage! Not the kind of death you handle, the kind that never ends. I could feel it. I had to help him.”

The roots resume their path, coiling around his torso. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, a single smear of her blood at the corner of his mouth.

“I did not ask,” he whispers. “I warned her, but she does not know how to be empty. She only knows how to give.”

My wings give a reflexive twitch. The rage hasn’t left me; it’s moved to a suffocating knot in my gut. I look at the smear of red on Eden’s wrist, and jealousy consumes me.

“You offered your blood to a Horseman,” I say. “After last night. While I was in the shower, waiting for you, thinking about our sheets.”

“I’m sorry, Sage. I didn’t do this to hurt you.” Her voice cracks. “But I will not apologize for helping someone in pain.”

Three more figures step from the mist. Bronze armor, a bone-beaked shadow, and a headless Horseman.

My wings flare wider.

One. Two. Three. Four, Ashán counts. I have always wondered what a Horseman’s soul tastes like.

“No,” Famine whispers from the ground, his eyes widening as he sees his brothers. “You will not touch her. She helped me.”

“She helped one,” Pestilence murmurs, his voice like dry husks rubbing together. “But we are a choir of needs, Reaper. And your… mate⁠—”

“Do not finish that sentence.” Lush vines spread from my chest, wrapping around Eden and pulling her to my side. “This is why you were waiting in the meadow. You kept him out here where he couldn’t feed. You let him starve so she would feel it.”

“We did not make him starve,” War says, stepping closer. “He’s been starving for centuries. Your mate simply… noticed.”

I glance at Famine, at the genuine horror and guilt on his face, and something twists in my chest. This wasn’t his plan at all.

But the others…

“If you take one more step, I will make sure the earth opens up and buries you under it.”

“We would leave peacefully if you would stop fighting the bond,” War counters.

“As if I would listen to you. You used your brother’s suffering as a pawn in your game.”

“Yes,” War says simply. “We are desperate for our own mates. The same way you are for yours.” He gestures to Eden, still cradling her bleeding wrist. “We need our mates. And the curse binds us all. If you will not seal your bond, then we have no choice but to keep relying on moments like this.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Famine chokes out, still bound in my roots. His eyes find Eden’s. “I told you to stay away. I warned you.”

“But she didn’t listen,” Pestilence cuts in. “And I find that I’m rather fond of a soft heart.”