Page 125 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

“—elevate this new member of the Order,” my father says, ignoring me.

The energy in the room shifts.

My father meets my gaze. “I’m sorry.”

A single, bloody tear drips from his eye. Hot wind blows through the room, and I turn to where Tobey is on the throne.

“Go,” my father says. “And drink.”

“I can’t. I won’t. I can’t hurt Tobey.”

Despite the evil that has possessed him, another red tear runs down his cheek. “I know—but you must. This is why we accepted Tobey at Strode. This was always the plan. I’m sorry. It is their destiny.”

“It was notmyplan.”

He knows, but I need to say it aloud, need it to be heard.

“I am no happier than you are. I’ve grown to care for them, too.” He shakes his head. “I care for all of my students. We sacrifice one life to save hundreds—and thousands. Castine is in danger. This is how it has always been done.”

I don’t care. I won’t play a part in it. The dagger handle presses against my hand as I stride toward Tobey. The defiancein their eyes is gone. It’s replaced with fear now, and more convincing than their anger could ever be.

What the hell is Caldwell doing? We’re running out of time.

My father follows behind as we approach the throne.

Heads turn to us—and then they turn away, looking at a black puff of smoke. In the smoke stands a man—no, a demon. He has the same red horns as Jun, but his are longer. His skin is pale, almost translucent, and his hair is silver. If my father looks old and weary, this being looks retired. He’s tall—taller than me, and taller than Caldwell.

My stomach churns.

“Strode.” My father greets the demon as if he was expecting him.

Caldwell was supposed to summon him, but something tells me he didn’t. Strode is here of his own accord. He’s here forme, and for Tobey’s soul.

This is Jun’s father. If Jun hadn’t been the one to tell me himself, I wouldn’t believe it. The only thing they have in common is the horns. I look for Jun in the crowd, able to see his horns but not his face.

I still feel him. His nerves thrum through our connection, and a sour, bitter feeling takes me, almost enough to knock me off my feet. That’s how his father’s presence makes him feel.

“The sacrifice is about to begin,” my father says.

Strode looks at me with his red gaze, and I fight the urge to claw my eyes out.

“You are anointed,” Strode says with a devious smile. His teeth are shiny, white, and perfect. “Good. Come.”

I step closer to Strode, and my knees go weak.

He presses his thumb to my forehead, touching where my father placed the oil. When he takes my hands, heat radiates through me; it’s unlike anything I’ve felt, close to how beingtouched by Jun feels but a thousand times stronger. For a moment, I feel… alive.

“An immortal soul is born,” Strode says. “Now, deliver my sacrifice, and I will be gone until the next ceremony.”

I won’t do it… but no one breaks a deal with a demon.

I’m supposed to use the witch weapon, but I’m not strong enough. Fear immobilizes me. I shake my head at my father, begging him to get me out of this, but he gestures to Tobey.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “You must do it, or Lord Strode?—”

“It has to be you. You must have the first bite, and I can finish.”

“Right.”