The upside-down willows dripped sap like candle wax onto Julian's face as he crawled through the tunnel. Somewhere ahead, Sabrina's whimpers echoed—not from pain, but from the vines caressing her throat.
He emerged into a cavern where willows grew roots-first from the ceiling, their branches cradling skeletons adorned with fresh white blooms. At the center, Sabrina floated in a pool of liquid moonlight, vines twining around her limbs like lovers.
"Julian," she gasped as a particularly thick tendril slid between her collarbones, its tip blooming into a flower that pulsed with her heartbeat.
The child watched from the shadows, head tilted. "Mother likes the gifts we give her."
Julian's dagger was in his hand before he registered moving. The blade sank into the nearest root—
—and Sabrina screamed, her back arching as identical wounds opened on her skin.
"We're connected now," the child sang, pressing a hand to Sabrina's belly where the vines had woven themselves beneath her skin. "Just like you and Father were."
Julian fell to his knees, his bloodied hands outstretched. "Sabrina, fight it—"
She turned her head, her eyes fully violet now, and smiled with too many teeth.
"But darling," she purred in the grandmother's voice, "I rather enjoy being worshipped."
CHAPTER END: The vines pulled Sabrina under, leaving Julian alone with the child—who now wore his mother's face.