2. Dove

2

DOVE

T he following morning I find myself tethered to the platform in our town’s square.

Freezing wind slashes at my exposed skin. The cold is brutal and the open air platform provides no shelter. My hands and feet have gone numb—I silently curse whoever decided it was customary to await his arrival in scraps of fabric.

All I can do is shiver and tuck my legs under myself. Air puffs from between my lips in a frosty cloud. The short chain connecting the iron cuff at my wrist clinks. Glancing down the platform, the five other shaking bodies accompanying me appear to be in the same sorry state. My thin shift sticks to my skin—wet from the flurries floating down on us.

The cloak around my shoulders is the only thing keeping me alive. At least, I think I’m still alive. I can’t imagine death being this painful.

Mayor Alrick had said it was the way the Offering had always been done: those who were to perform the ritual would arrive barely clothed. If they were chosen, the curse would be lifted, and they would spend eternity draped in the finest silks and softest furs. By the time we had all been chained to the post atop the platform, the cold was burning my lungs, and I stopped listening to much of what he said.

How long would we have to wait up here? When would the townspeople realize the creature wasn’t coming and unlock us?

I curse myself for not paying attention to the mayor. Hopefully, by the time we all start turning blue, they’ll emerge from the boarded-up tavern across the square and let us go. I’m counting on making it out of this with all my fingers and toes.

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I drop my head down to try and relieve my burning nose. Mama is nearby—locked inside one of the fortified buildings to await the end of the ritual. She had reluctantly brought Sophia along and as much as I don’t want her bearing witness to this awful tradition, I find strength in knowing they are both close by.

I can still feel the warmth of their final hugs. Tears had frozen on our cheeks as we parted with promises dining together tonight. Our old, rotting cottage sounds as lovely as a palace. I’d give anything to be warming my toes in front of our crumbling hearth.

Instead, my feet feel the sting of another blustering wind. I have no idea how long we’ve been up here; it feels like hours. When my mother would come to these in the past, she would be gone all day. At least one family member from each household was required to attend the Offering . Papa had done it before his passing, and then the task had fallen to Mama. When I was younger, I was never permitted to attend and then the duty of watching Sophia while Mama was gone became mine.

Now as I sit shackled to this platform, the realization that I know nothing of this process despite now having to participate sinks in.

Mama says she saw him once when she was younger but refuses to talk about it—the sight of him still unsettles her. As I wait tied to this post, hopelessness presses down on me.

Something feels odd—unnerving. Maybe it’s just residual anxiety following my run-in with Jon before the Offering . He had been waiting near the platform when I arrived. He hadn’t even bothered to hide his leer as he openly appraised my body. His presence had put me even more on edge.

Perhaps if I am chosen, that would be another point of comfort. I would save my mother and sister from this harsh weather, and I wouldn’t have to marry that awful man. Mama would never force me to, but he wasn’t wrong—we could use the money. Watching my mother and sister grow slighter each year would be enough motivation to push me down the aisle.

The wind picks up and flurries of white snow rain down on us. The man next to me groans before doubling over. His fingers and lips are blue. Our eyes connect briefly before his gaze unfocuses. He is familiar to me, but I cannot remember his name. The cold has made it impossible to think.

Snow begins to fall in earnest. It blurs the world around me and quickly obscures the surrounding buildings. My hands tremble as my cloak turns wet. The tips of my ears ache, and more pain lacerates my body.

Maybe we will all die here long before he arrives—if he comes. Wouldn’t that just be fitting?

“Have you e—e—ever seen him?” A voice whispers beside me.

The sound nearly gets swallowed up by the wind.

I turn slightly, taking in the girl's blonde hair to my left. Just like with the man, the cold has stolen the memory of her name. The wind burns my face and whips my hair behind me. My shivers have turned violent—my muscles ache with the convulsions.

“No,” I say, my voice barely more than a murmur. “Wasn’t allowed.”

She grits her teeth against the wind.

“I’ve heard he’s f—f—fearsome. A beast with horns and sharp teeth.” Her eyes widen over her pale cheeks. Snowflakes cling to her lashes. “Mrs. Pendleton said the l—l—ast tribute he took was gutted. Right in front of e—every—o—one. The sn—sn—ow never let u—u—p.”

I open my mouth to tell her the same thing my mother told Sophia about Pollyanna Pendleton, but my jaw won’t work. All of my muscles have frozen. With some panic, I realize I can no longer curl my fingers. The tips of my fingers and toes are turning pale.

For the first time in my life, I welcome death. Anything to end this suffering would be worth it. The faces of my mother and sister appear in my mind, but the burning cold chases them away. There is only shivering—only pain.

I long for it to end—I need it to.

Keeping my eyes open is impossible. The white terrain around me is already a blur. Besides, I have no desire to look death in the face. My body is nothing more than a pile of ice with no chance of thawing in sight. Giving in to the pain, I let go and allow the icy wind to swallow me.

Darkness covers me, and I feel… warm . Death’s embrace is a raging fire that drags me down into its heated depths. I think of my family—knowing Papa is waiting for me makes this easier. I regret leaving Mama and Sophia, but nothing can save me now.

Something inside my chest clicks—a decision being made, and I’m sucked down deeper in the void. The sound of hooves echoes in my ears as I go under until I hear nothing.

Nothing at all.