Cursed Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (best book club books txt) 📕

Horseman’s immediate reach. Then she races toward him with her hands clenched into skeletal fists. There’s a strange summoning of static electricity as she nears. However, whatever power she summons has no effect on him. Without blinking or even glancing in her direction, the Horseman uses his free arm to knock her back. She sails through the air, slamming into the wall and dropping to the floor. Bits of drywall and dust crumble with her.

Instantly, the magic she had begun to call forth is extinguished. From the corner of my eye, I can see her shake her head, then slumps to the floor. I can’t tell if she’s okay, or if she’ll try again.

It doesn’t really matter, though. This is the moment I was waiting for.

My vision blurs as my throat closes under the Horseman’s tight grip. Releasing my grasp on his wrist, I extend my right hand, placing it over his heart. His bare chest is cold to the touch and feels more like that of a snake than the warm place I have rested my head.

I force myself to stare deeply into the black pools of the Horseman’s eyes. When I can sense a connection is made, I summon as much energy as possible to speak.

“What about our baby?” I say breathlessly, doing everything I can to fight against the pressure that’s making the edges of my vision darken.

For the briefest of moments, the Horseman’s expression shifts and a spark of recognition lights in his black eyes. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

“Please, remember…” I squeak.

He lowers his arm just enough for me to make contact with the ground and I take a labored inhalation. It doesn’t provide the best relief, but it manages to keep the darkness at back for a moment longer.

“We’re not your enemy,” I say, each word more difficult than the word before it. My hand remains on his heart and I leave it there as a reminder of our connection.

He tilts his head ever so slightly, as if pondering the meaning of my words. His grip loosens a little as he looks down at my hand, like it’s the first time he noticed it was even there.

All of a sudden, he releases his hold on my neck entirely. I drop to the ground like a rag doll, unable to hold my own weight as the oxygen comes rushing back at me. Reaching up, I rub my throat, trying to get the muscles to work again.

“Enemy,” the Horseman whispers.

“No,” Aisa breathes, her eyes wide with shock and anger. “What are you doing?”

With unearthly speed—speed I didn’t even realize he could wield, or I would have been absolutely immobilized by it—the Horseman turns to Aisa. Before any of the Moirai can react, he severs Aisa’s head from her body and tears her dreaded shears from her hand.

As her body slumps sideways to the floor, he lunges forward, flinging the shears through the air like an expert dart player. They hit their mark, puncturing straight through the center of Clotho’s chest. Blood splatters from her mouth as she turns a confused eye toward her final sister.

Lachesis reaches out, trying to catch Clotho before she falls. She barely manages to clip her sister’s arm before the Horseman is behind her. She freezes, her terrified eyes searching for something...

The Horseman wraps his large black hand across the front of her face. It contrasts boldly with her pale skin as he twists her head backward with a loud snap.

Lachesis drops to the floor in slow motion, like time somehow stood still, staring in the same shock as the rest of us before time kicked back in and resumed as it should. The Horseman stands back, a sentinel for the destruction he just created.

As all three Moirai lie on the floor, the wooden box pulsates beside me and my awareness is called back to it. I pick up the box and suddenly, bright-blue light bursts from my chest, emitting a sort of force field that knocks both my mother and the Horseman back. My body rises from the floor on its own accord, hovering a few feet in the air. All I can see—all I can focus on—is the Moirai and what I now need from them. What was never meant to be theirs.

The rest of the world falls away and the only thing that exists is me…and the sins of fate.

In a sudden burst of energy, the sins rise, radiating off of the bodies of the Moirai and making their way to me. I throw my head back, my arms splayed out wide in acceptance of what is.

The sins flow to me in the form of glowing bluish smoke and I open my mouth, allowing the smoke to become a part of me. At first, memories of their transgressions are slow to come forth. It’s almost as if they’re somehow being clung to by the fading souls of the Moirai. Yet, one by one, their horrors flicker to life, illuminating in my mind’s eye as they enter my body through any energetic means necessary. A life cut short here, a family cursed there… It was never meant to be like this.

Within this bubble of energy, their sins become one with me until I can no longer remember where I begin and they end. The effect is so intense, I close my eyes to shield myself from the magnitude of it.

Without context, some of their sins have no meaning—and perhaps they’re not meant for me to understand. They’re only to be consumed and locked away. Put back into the box where they can no longer harm others.

Different times and places flood past me—faster and faster until I can no longer keep up with it all. I can only hold on and hope that I’m not completely lost in it.

Once inside me, the Moirai’s sins are somehow transformed into pure white light, then expelled through my hands and funneled into the box. The faster the sins come in, the faster they