Page 249

Not the Bride.

Not McBride.

Me.

Something breaks across his face.

Fear.

Not for himself.

For me.

His lips strain against the stitches, fresh blood slipping down his chin as he forces them apart as far as the black cord will allow.

A sound claws its way through.

Muffled. Broken.

Barely a word.

But I hear him.

“Run.”

“No.”

He thrashes. “Sage… run.”

The fire climbs.

I step closer as heat burns my face.

The Harvest speaks through him again. THE SOWER MUST CHOOSE.

I scream back. “THEN LET HIM!”

The fire explodes upward and Rhett pulls me back but I fight him. “EZRA!”

His eyes find mine.

The Harvest whispers.

CHOOSE HER.

Ezra’s entire body shakes. Blood runs from beneath the mask.

CHOOSE.

He looks at me.

I see it.

Everything.

Want. Fear. Guilt. Love?

No.