Devour the Dark (Devourer #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

ROC

He had a name once and a family.

He can hear his father telling him all of the ways he has disappointed both.

He can feel the chill of the mercury against his skin, quickly followed by the burn. Being a monster, he was impossible to discipline. There were only two things that could touch him. His father thought the blade was too barbaric, but a mercury burn? It wasn’t much different than a slap, was it?

You are the bane of my existence.

Sometimes, when he is alone with his thoughts, his name will burble up from memory, almost like a ghost. Fitting because that part of him is dead.

He is restless in his bed.

Everything hurts.

It would be better if he were dead.

He does not get sick.

He’s immortal and invincible.

Pain is supposed to be fleeting.

But this is different, and that’s how he knows something is wrong.

As his form shifts back and forth, too much, too often, he is pulled from the present into the past and back again until he’s not sure which part of him is real.

There are the shadows of the Hall of Bones.

The silence of Maddred Manor.

The smoke of the Umbrage.

The taste of rum and tobacco on his tongue.

There is the desperation of losing all of the things he loves.

There is the chilling terror of being alone.

Then the anger that turned into apathy until he loved nothing and no one. Until he was responsible for nothing. Until his heart went from beating red to darkest black.

He has no regrets, he tells everyone, but he is full of lies.

His nearest regret is sitting in the chair beside his bed…

…begging him to be okay.