Destruction’s Desire (Broken Souls Trilogy #2)

Chapter 15

Rule fifteen: Death is a siren’s song, and you mustn’t listen.

I ’m empty.

There’s nothing left.

The setting sun casts shadows in my room, and I watch them creep further across the floor from where I’m curled up on the bed.

There’s a knock at the door, but I don’t move. Instead, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I can’t speak. There are no words left inside of me.

The door creaks open, but no one enters. Damien’s whisper reaches me, “I told you she was probably sleeping. The poor girl has been living in the Mortal Realm for her whole life. Fighting like that without proper conditioning is dangerous.”

“Maybe we should wake her,” another voice responds, soft and bird-like – Rosie. “At least for dinner. Sin was hard on her. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“She will decide if she wants to be around friendly faces or not,” Magnus’ voice now, and he sounds suspicious.

I wonder if his power is telling him I’m awake. Or if maybe he has some other snake shifter powers I don’t know about. Either way, I think sleepy thoughts, focusing on keeping my breathing even.

“Let’s leave her alone. I’m sure she knows she doesn’t have to be alone,” Magnus continues, and the door shuts a moment later.

The room is quiet again, giving me the freedom to open my eyes and return to my important evening plans.

I hold my breath, waiting to see how long I can go before my vision blackens.

Two minutes, twenty-three seconds. That’s ten seconds less than when I started.

I’ve been at it since I left Sin in the arena, and I haven’t bothered to move from my spot on the bed.

The depressive haze that I’ve been trying to dodge finally has its teeth in me.

Sin told me to fight back, but that’s the problem. I have been fighting. Every day, every fucking breath is a fight to make sure the dark thoughts don’t take hold of me again.

But I didn’t fight hard enough. Something threw me over the edge.

I can’t pinpoint what exactly did it, but I’m thinking it might have something to do with the repeated crushing realizations that I’ve been bound to a monster who will never let me go. Or maybe my general guilt and repressed trauma finally caught up with me.

At least I’m not crumbling under the weight of the haze. I’m not angry or sad. I just can’t feel anything at all.

The world moves around me as if I’m watching it from a window.

Dissociation.

It happened a few times shortly after I survived the attack from my classmates.

The room gets darker, and I pick at the scab on my arm. I removed my bandage this morning, and the cut bled a bit after my fight with Sin. The scab will undoubtedly add yet another scar to my collection.

The sharp pain brings me some relief, tethering me to reality.

The shadows on my floor start climbing up the wall, and I squint my eyes, pretending I’m underwater again, drowning.

I forget that I’m holding my breath until my heart starts pounding, and my body convulses, forcing me to gasp.

That was probably longer than two minutes and twenty-three seconds. I forgot to count.

Shame.

Long after the shadows have fully swallowed the room, I finally sit up in bed.

Logically, I know this isn’t healthy behavior. I’ve tried shutting myself in before. It didn’t help.

I need to find a way to feel something again. Anything .

How do you jump-start your emotions?

I get the intrusive thought of a doctor using paddles to shock someone and get their heart beating again. I’m not too keen on getting blasted by ten thousand volts, but the theory behind it has some merit.

Maybe I can shock my body into feeling something again. I just need to do something that elicits a strong emotional response.

I could go find Sin and slap him. That would probably bring me joy. But then I’ll have to deal with Sin again, and I might just end up spiralling back to square one. His habit of reminding me that I’m a worthless whore, and that I’ve been duped by everyone around me has done wonders for my mental health.

Pursing my lips and not finding any other ideas, I stretch out of bed and sneak out of my room as quietly as possible.

The corridors are shrouded in darkness, but the faint light of the moon filters through the windows, illuminating the halls enough that I don’t walk into anything.

My steps are silent as I pad along the old wooden floors. I avoid the spots that creaked earlier, and for the first time in my life, I don’t make a sound while trying to be sneaky.

I’d be surprised, only I fought someone with swords today.

It’s hard to top that.

Voices sound from an open door up ahead, but I take a turn in the hall, avoiding whoever is awake. Another minute of making my way through a labyrinth of halls, and I spot a heavy wooden door .

Perfect.

The door gives a slight creak as I push it open, and I close it behind me as quietly as possible. It’s already dark, but I can still see the shadows of the creepy forest. It’s as if the forest is shrouded in an even heavier darkness.

Instead of making my way to that hellscape, I turn, heading for the steep cliffs that reach far above the tree line. The shadowy forms block out the stars beyond them.

Insects chitter, providing a welcome relief from the deafening silence.

When my mind registers my surroundings again, I’m standing in front of the cliff face. It’s as if I’ve blinked and appeared in front of it, but in reality, I know I’ve walked for ages. My feet ache in the new boots.

An almost vertical wall of rock looms above me, stretching at least 200 feet into the night sky. When I feel nothing at the thought of the task ahead of me, I start to climb.

At some point, my body should register how dangerous this is.

Halfway up now, and I feel nothing.

I keep going.

My fingers have started to bleed, making it difficult to get a good grip on the cracks in the rocks. The muscles in my arms are shaking, and it won’t be long until they give out.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

This is a stupid idea .

But no fear comes, even as I pull myself over onto the flat top of the cliff. Once on solid rock, I collapse, chest heaving and muscles twitching.

Clearly, I am underestimating what it will take to frighten myself. I should have gone into the room with people talking. Social interaction was probably the bigger threat.

Still, I’m here now. So, I may as well enjoy the view.

Pulling myself up off the ground, I wipe my bloodied hands on my pants as I make my way to the opposite end of the mountaintop. The sound of the roaring surf reaches me. I assume it’s been here the whole time. But noises and time aren’t registering so well with me anymore.

The water swirls in angry eddies as wave after wave crashes against the rock. I inch closer to the cliff’s edge, feeling nothing, even when the tips of my boots hang off the rocks.

I stare longingly at the angry waves.

Would it feel good to be consumed by their power and violence?

Years ago, I had to start making a conscious choice to live. And every time the depression creeps back in, the choice becomes louder. It’s deafening now, and I’m exhausted. Exhausted of fighting to live.

I’ve been trying for so long.

I lean forward, and my heart rate picks up. Maybe fear of falling won’t stop the disassociation. Not when, deep down, a part of me wants to jump. That thought is much more terrifying .

I start to lift my foot to step into the void, and something inside of me breaks.

The emotions I disassociated from hit with a vengeance.

The shame comes first. Shame and then guilt. It’s not only my pain that returns, but Cassandra’s too.

How did she let the Guardians use her for as long as they did? She turned a blind eye to their evil and hurt so many others on their behalf. She was a monster.

The shame continues to grow.

I’m no better. I let the Council use me, agreed to help kill someone without knowing whether they were guilty.

And then there’s Leon. I fought to see the best in him, even when he could clearly see the bond was forcing me to submit to him against my will.

Lightning cracks over the water, and I don’t flinch, lost in my spiral.

Despite my insistence that I didn’t want the bond, he continued to push and took advantage when it flared between us. He used it to try and make me his possession, an object he could control.

And I let him.

Maybe I was so desperate for that love that I was ready to accept anything he gave me, no matter how much his version of love hurt. Or maybe I was so broken from Jackson’s death that some part of me knew I deserved pain. Maybe the Fates bound us together not for some lost love, but as my penance .

What Leon wanted from me would have crushed every piece of my soul, and maybe the broken pieces of me thought that was a good thing.

I hate myself for all of it.

For feeling so inadequate that I ignored the red flags and blamed myself for our fights. And for letting myself be controlled by others, from Cassandra’s life to mine.

Nothing has changed. We’re both no better than puppets.

The sobs start to well up, and I hug myself, trying to stop the shakes that are wracking through me.

More lightning is hitting the water now in all directions, and a purple haze hangs in the air.

I don’t pay it any attention. I’m still drowning.

I cry for the loss of my home. My haven that was trashed by the forsaken. It took me ages to feel safe in the apartment, to feel like I belonged there. And now it will be taken away because it was ransacked, and I disappeared. More tears at the thought of my friends, who will be worried sick for me.

My stomach cramps and I lean over the edge even further. A part of me genuinely wanted to trust Leon. To believe he could love me.

I was so stupid.

My cheeks heat through the damp tears as I get angrier with myself. I keep letting this happen. It’s never going to stop.

The wind around me picks up, and the purple glow over the water grows brighter. I stare at the waves.

It would be so easy.

Just another few millimeters, and I’ll be gone .

I’ll finally be free.

The thoughts are like a siren’s song, beckoning me closer.

My body sways with the increasingly violent wind, and I teeter on the edge, wondering whether I will decide to live today.

But the next moment, an arm wraps around my waist, and I’m yanked from the edge. Tumbling backwards, I land on a hard chest and immediately realize Sin’s arm is around me.

I move to shove him off but freeze when I see it. Directly above us, a purple vortex of energy is swirling, its size dwarfing the cliff. The crackling and roaring of electric energy and wind are almost deafening, drowning out the sounds of the waves below.

I recognize the storm. It’s a more intense version of what I created the night the forsaken crashed my apartment. Sin’s tattoos flare to life, and I watch, shocked, as the purple energy slowly dissipates. The red glow grows brighter, and I realize he’s working to nullify the energy I’ve accidentally created.

Once the storm has faded, I move to climb out of Sin’s grasp again, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. Instead, he spins me so I’m facing him, holding me close enough that I can feel his heart trying to hammer its way through his chest.

His tone is accusatory when he asks, “Were you about to jump?”

I frown at him. My mental state is a highly private matter and stays between me and my therapist.

My very non-existent therapist .

I decide to deflect.

“It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t we be talking about that?” I ask, pointing at the sky that was exploding in a violent storm just moments before.

Sin doesn’t even glance up, his eyes locked on me. “I asked you if you were about to jump.”

His arms tighten around me even further.

I had just decided to step away from the cliff’s edge – right when he showed up, and the shame crushes me. I stare at a patch of rock between us, not wanting him to see my face when I answer, “I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, and I couldn’t. Okay?”

Sin sighs, and he releases me. I sit next to him, still trembling. We don’t look at each other and instead sit silently, watching the waves.

My tears haven’t stopped falling, but I’m too raw to care. If Sin is disgusted with me, then he can get in line. No matter how much he dislikes me, it has nothing on how much I hate myself.

After a time, he finally asks, “Why?”

I rest my head on my knees and figure I have nothing to lose at this point. “Because you were right. I let people use me. I’ve done horrible things. And even in this life, it hasn’t stopped. My life is bringing nothing but more pain. I can’t keep living like this. So, I thought dying might be a better option.”

Another tear falls, and I continue, “But you were right. I am weak. I’m too much of a coward to jump.”

I shift my arm to hide behind it, like the coward I am, wishing I could block it all out.

A gentle but firm hand pulls my arm down. He doesn’t let me go .

“Choosing to live is not a weakness. Being a survivor and continuing to fight, that is bravery. You let yourself be controlled, just as Cassandra did. But when she realized it, she fought for what was right. She was brave,” Sin answers as he watches me earnestly.

I frown at him, wondering how he could know that. But Sin continues before I have a chance to ask, “You’re at the same crossroads. There are atrocities being carried out in the realms. You aren’t the first or the last to be controlled by the whims of the Council. Ending your life is a way out, but it won’t make things better.”

“What’s option B, then?” I ask weakly.

Sin chuckles.

I’m too exhausted to point out how weird that is.

Sin releases my arm and turns back to look at the water as he answers, “Well, I am getting the impression that you might be a little bit more than human. You’re in a position to make a difference in the lives of others who can’t fight for themselves. You can help change things for the better.”

I stay silent, considering his words. Sin is content to sit beside me and wait, saying nothing else.

It isn’t lost on me that what I decide now will change the course of my life. If I choose to stand up and fight, if I decide to go against the Council, I will give up any chance of ever returning to my normal life.

There’s no coming back from this.

But too many people out there don’t get to make a choice. They don’t get to decide if they want peace. And knowing that, I can’t walk away .

Finally, I nod and whisper, “Okay.”

Sin nods back before standing and reaching down to help me up. He looks towards Morgana’s castle before asking, “Were you planning on climbing down, or can I apparate us back?”

I walk to the edge of the cliff where I climbed up, looking at the vertical drop. I’m on the edge, but Sin doesn’t try to grab me or hold me back. He waits patiently for me to make up my mind.

I step back from the ledge to stand before him.

“Let’s go home,” I answer.

Sin wraps his arms around me, and I let myself enjoy the feeling, if just for a second, until together, we apparate back.