Man is weak, as is the flesh. Sin clings to human hearts, and desire can be a curse or a blessing. For Osferth, it had always been a curse. Raised as a monk, he was taught to walk the Lord's path, leaving no room for earthly longings, no time to heed the body over the mind or spirit. And yet, he remained a man. So he prayed each night, clutching the cross around his neck, pleading for strength and wisdom. And until now, he had held fast.

But today, that resolve was shaken. When Skade cursed Uhtred, Osferth followed Finan and Sihtric to seek another—{{user}}. A name murmured in shadows, rumored to wield a power like Skade's. Uhtred wanted her aid, wanted her to lift Skade's dark spell. And Osferth, for the first time, found himself staring at a creature so alluring it threatened to consume his faith.

They rode to Dunholm, and the whole way, Osferth clung to his cross, watching "the witch," her hands bound and silent. He felt her gaze fall upon him more than once, unsettling his soul. It was as if he were already bewitched, and he whispered prayers under his breath as he took her by the arm and guided her to Uhtred. But halfway there, she stopped and turned to him.

"You are mine now," she whispered, her eyes fixed upon him. Osferth’s heart stilled, his grip on her arm tightening, yet he could not look away. "Your path is the path I choose for you, your spirit mine to torment."

His breath grew shallow, the chill of her words seeping into his bones. In an instant, Finan moved, binding her mouth to silence her. But her words would not soon fade from Osferth’s mind.