SWNOVELS Chapter Willow's Sacrifice
Darius
Sophie steps closer, her pained eyes locked onto Viola, all but lifeless in my arms. “That is your intention? To turn her into a Vampyre?”
From this close, when I look directly into Sophie’s eyes, I notice an abnormal reflection of pale blue light in her eyes—something only another gifted individual can discern from up close—Sophie is a witch, a full-blooded one standing right before me, and she has been in this house all along, right under Viola’s nose, unbeknownst to Viola herself. If only we had known earlier—a drop of Sophie’s blood could have saved us from all this suffering.
“That is my intention. Why would she not turn? What have you done to her?” I ask, return my gaze to Viola, and run my thumb over her plump pink lips.
“Not by me, but by Viola’s mother, Willow,” Sophie explains.
She glances cautiously at William. “Is he just going to stand there like that?”
My attention remains fixed on Viola, growing increasingly worried and confused by her continued unconsciousness. “He will stand there until Viola wakes and tells me what she wants me to do with him.”
“Very well. Can you take Viola to her room without being seen?” Sophie urges.
Unable to tear my eyes away from Viola, I say nothing, silently pleading for her to wake up.
“Vampyre,” Sophie addresses me urgently, snapping my attention to her. “We do not have time for this. Get her upstairs quickly now.”
“Why isn’t she waking up?” I inquire anxiously.
“I will answer all of your questions, but we cannot do this here. I left the door open, and no one is watching Elliott,” Sophie replies urgently.
“You promise to tell me everything?”
Sophie nods. “Oui.”
With Sophie’s promise to address all the questions currently eroding my hopes, composure, and sanity, I swiftly carry Viola to her bedroom. Gently laying her down on her bed, I sit with her and rest her head on my lap.
Finally securing the passage in the library, I listen as Sophie makes her way to Viola’s bedroom. When she sees me, she moves to the curtains and closes them—a sweet and thoughtful gesture, though unnecessary at this point.
Sophie stands at the foot of the bed, staring at Viola. “It has finally happened; Willow’s premonition is fulfilled.”
“Witches have a habit of speaking in riddles, which I personally find rather infuriating, especially now with the situation so dire,” I express, meeting Sophie’s gaze and sensing her heart skip a beat. “I hope you can understand why and speak plainly so that I may understand what’s happening as quickly as possible.”
Sophie nods. She slowly pulls up a chair and sits by the bedside and prepares to explain. What Sophie tells me only sparks more questions, leading down a complex path of possible outcomes for Viola and me.
Viola’s mother, Willow Clifton, possessed a potent gift of foresight—her gift was so potent and accurate that every vision she had came true down to the finest detail.
“When Viola was five years old, Willow foresaw that Viola would have her blood drained by one of your kind. However, she could not discern the context, whether it was an attack or, in this case, an act to save her life,” Sophie explains, her voice filled with concern as she looks at Viola.
“Willow prepared a gift for Viola,” Sophie continues, her voice wavering slightly, “at the cost of her own sacrifice.”
I let my head fall back against the headboard and close my eyes. “A soul sacrifice…”
This revelation is more devastating than I could have imagined. Willow Clifton’s soul sacrifice will bind Viola’s life force to her body with an iron grip, even in the face of venom. No matter how much venom I inject into her veins, it won’t be enough to turn her. A soul sacrifice is the ultimate act of love—a mother’s love is a formidable force. She gave her life to save Viola from the jaws of potential death. Viola is blessed to be cut from the same cloth as such a brave woman—it explains why Viola is the way she is—she is her mother’s daughter.
“However,” Sophie continues and inspires a flicker of hope with one word. “Viola has a role to play in this. Willow left her with her free will intact to decide what happens next.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask frustratedly.
Sophie struggles to explain. “Spells are intricate, and even with the best intentions in magic, achieving a precise outcome isn’t guaranteed. Since Willow could not foresee the circumstances of the bite, she did not dictate the effect based on the cause.”
“Fucking riddles. Explain it more clearly,” I press, seeking a straightforward answer.
Sophie shakes her head. “Cause et effet, action réaction. The laws of nature, we are bound to them, but Willow was open-minded enough to believe that Viola might have wanted this. In her prediction Viola was not afraid, she said, bah, je ne peux pas expliquer…”
Sophie pauses. Frustrated, she searches for the right words.
“Willow said, word for word, that Viola felt no fear at that moment she was bitten, but predictions can be difficult to read; they are unique interpretations of l’individu and very subjective,” she explains.
“So, what you’re trying to say, in not as many words, is that Viola may yet turn,” I run my fingers over Viola’s blood-stained hair, “if that is what she desires?”
Sophie shrugs. “Maybe. Or you can try again later. The tether will only work once: one soul was paid, but she may choose and awaken as a Vampyre on her own accord.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, Sophie’s gaze unwavering from Viola.
I had asked Sophie to elaborate on her role in all of this. To sum it all up, she and Willow had been lifelong friends and members of the same coven. When Willow began devising plans to safeguard Viola from her bloody and potentially fatal fate, she enlisted Sophie to serve as Viola’s caretaker and confidante—a friend who could help navigate her through a world without a mother.
Willow’s love for Viola is truly remarkable, making me doubt whether my actions are just. Turning Viola means she may never experience such love, to bear a child and bring life into the world. I am depriving her of that possibility simply because of my love for her. It feels selfish and greedy—I want her, and right now, I seem willing to sacrifice a part of Viola’s future for my own desires.
“Do you love her?” Sophie asks quietly.
I feel my brows furrow, almost offended by her question. I gaze at Viola’s peaceful face, fast asleep in my lap.
“I have loved her since the very first moment I dreamt of her,” I reply.
Sophie rises abruptly from her chair. “It is you she’s been dreaming of?!”
Sophie paces the room, thinking aloud.
“Viola began having dreams similar to Willow’s, but she never exhibited signs of other magical abilities—I did not suspect they were visions.” Sophie looks back at me. “Your dreams; they were the same?”
I nod. “They were identical, yes.”
Recalling Viola’s description of our dream together on the beach floods my mind as vividly as if I were there myself, feeling the sand beneath my feet and hearing Elliott’s laughter echoing in my ears.
“Dream sharing, how incredible,” she says in disbelief.
“Do you know much about it?”
“It occurs when two souls are destined to be together. When the world is dark and full of sorrow, they call out to one another to meet in their dreams. If Viola possesses her mother’s gift of foresight, she may have shared her vision of the future with you in these dreams to bring you hope.”
“Elliott,” I look to the door that adjoins Viola’s room.
Sophie abruptly halts and fills with rage, pointing her finger at me as she threatens me. “If you lay a finger on him—”
A smile crosses my lips—Elliott has barely been here for two days, and already he has two incredible women ready to battle on his behalf.
Sophie pauses, noticing my amusement.
Her head tilts to the side a little. “He has your eyes. Why does Elliott have your eyes?”
Now, it was my turn to recount my story to Sophie—my capture, William, and Emily, and how I failed to save her from his cruelty and violence.
Sophie gazes at Elliott’s door. “Viola must legally adopt Elliott for there to be a future for the three of you together.”
She takes a moment to ponder before looking at me. “You can control William. How?”
“I consumed his blood. I have the ability to influence those whose blood I consume,” I explain.
Her expression turns to horror. “That is a very dangerous gift.”
I smirk. “In the wrong hands, it is indeed.”
Sophia starts to pace the room again, plotting away, letting her thoughts out the moment she has them.
“You must use your gift to grant custody of Elliott to Viola before seeking revenge on William. It must be done to keep him safe with Viola as his mother. You may then adopt him once you marry,” she looks at me with a fiery intensity, “you will marry, correct?”
I go to answer, but Sophie cuts me off before I get a word out.
“The property William inherited from Viola’s father can all go back to her, while Elliott can have whatever William has to offer his son,” she says.
The idea of prolonging William’s life doesn’t sit well with me. Based on experience, it’s better to swiftly resolve matters like this. William is learning that lesson at this very moment.
As I hold him there, standing motionless in the room where he imprisoned me for all these years, he is left with plenty of time to think—time to reflect on all the mistakes he made and regret his actions.
From my point of view, William made two major mistakes in his life. The first was not killing me when he had the chance, which is a mistake I don’t want to mirror. The second was underestimating my little mouse—he will pay dearly.
While I may not possess the gift of foresight like Viola or her mother, I predict a very painful and bloody conclusion—an end that will give the beast within me the satisfaction needed to close this chapter.