The Offering (The Pledge 3)

Sure, I decided, I’d let them have Sabara.

And then she and I were going to try to kill each other.

qQQ “Stop stalling,” Elena complained, her impatience reaching a crescendo. What did I care if she squirmed a little? I needed a few moments to gather myself, to collect my strength and assess the situation. My plan, if it was going to work, depended entirely on timing.

There were four soldiers inside the tent with us, more outside should Elena or Niko or any one of the masked warriors call for them. Brook could occupy at least the two who were holding her. The other two were stationed on either side of the tent’s entrance.

Elena and I were standing in the center of the oversize enclosure, Niko at my side. All I needed was one moment. One tiny, insignificant moment, and it would all be over.

Just enough time to put my blade through Elena’s heart once the transfer was complete.

The problem was, that was all the time Sabara needed too. And she would be trying to use her powers to stop me—to close my airway—before I could follow through with my intentions.

I had to reach her before she had the chance.

Four soldiers against one good arm. I like my odds, I thought, grinning inwardly as Sabara tried to quash my confidence with her own.

She felt much the way I did. That her chances were good.

“Charlie, you don’t need to do this. You shouldn’t do this!” Brook fought and fought, trying to break free, trying to get through to me, trying to stop this from happening. But I wasn’t listening at all. I barely noticed her.

I reminded myself of everything Elena had done—to Xander, executing Eden, the attempts on my life, declaring war on Ludania. And all the people Sabara would kill if she had the chance—Brooklynn, Aron, my parents, Angelina, me. Even her own grandson, Max.

Maybe I’d been too long locked in Sabara’s dark grip, maybe I’d been poisoned by her venom, but I could see no viable alternative.

I nodded at Elena, ready.

I was ready. I could do this.

Niko released my arm, and I stepped forward, meeting Elena face-to-face, letting my anger toward her seethe. I needed those feelings. I needed to revile her as much as I reviled the soul inside me.

I needed all the hatred and rage to overcome any doubts or fears that might remain. To spur my strength.

I felt the warm steel of the blade pressed against the bare skin of my back.

I can do this, I repeated silently.

A look of bliss broke over Elena’s face. “Take me. Take me instead.”

The words, this time, hit me like a lightning bolt, piercing my core. I opened myself up to them, hoping against hope that this would work. That the transfer would take place and Sabara would leave my body, and I would remain whole.

I worried about that, too. That with Sabara’s evacuation of me she’d take my life force with her—that we were eternally intertwined and would be forced to spend an eternity bound to each other. I worried that I, too, would be trapped in Elena’s body.

Or worse, that Sabara would vacate my body for Elena’s and I’d fade away to nothing without her. That my body would simply be left empty. A withered shell.

But there was no going back now. Sabara uncoiled from within me, plumes of her Essence releasing me. I hadn’t expected to feel every nerve, every neuron, separating like currents of electricity—charged and piercing. It was as if Sabara were wholly being ripped away, torn from me, leaving everything inside me raw and angry and throbbing.

But in the wake of all that agony was another sensation. I could feel my old self resurfacing—all the good returning. I could feel all the memories Sabara had tried to block breaking free like a dam opened wide. But unlike before, when I’d had only a glimpse of my former nature, I was truly letting her go, and I could feel the blackness that was her vacating me as she moved from my center and spread to my extremities, searching for a way out.

My heart began to beat its own rhythm as my own essence awakened once more. Light flooded my veins, and heat surged all the way to my toes. My injured ribs and elbow no longer ached.

“Take me . . . take me . . . take me . . . take me . . .” Elena repeated the words over and over, and I let her.

I kept my eyes closed, until I felt the final surge. It was jarring— the jolt as Sabara left me—and my eyes shot open. I watched Elena, her own eyes wide with shock as the transfer took place.

I couldn’t think clearly, but even from the haze I was in, I saw the moment when Elena sensed Sabara slipping into place. When she felt the black soul—Sabara’s Essence—taking control. Elena’s expression clouded over, and then her mouth formed an alarmed O, as she recognized, at last, what she’d done. What was happening to her. I hadn’t witnessed it before, when it had happened to me, so watching now was . . . fascinating . . . horrifying . . . exhilarating.

Behind me I heard shouts coming from the entrance, and a scuffle, but I didn’t turn to see who it was or what was happening. Brook was shouting too, and still struggling to break free, but I ignored them all.

And then, right before the light faded from Elena’s eyes, she gasped a single name, “Sage?”

At no point did I turn to gauge Niko’s reaction to any of this, because I knew he cared nothing about the dying queen before him. All he cared about was the new one who was coming back to life—Sabara.

Sabara, I thought vaguely, still aware of the fray happening behind me. Sabara was coming back to life.

An explosion rang through the space of the tent, clearing my mind, just enough.