Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE RATS IN MY HOME WERE fewer than last month.
More blood covered my hands, coating me with murders that barely sated the need for vengeance.
I didn’t know how much longer I could keep doing this.
How much longer I could stop myself from slipping into madness or ignoring the suicidal whispers that promised an end to this misery.
The battle between living to kill and dying for freedom tangled me up until I no longer knew what I wanted.
My hands curled as I stood on the roof and glowered at Cinderkeep below. Fire danced on towering torches and flames flickered in lanterns, turning my prison into the belly of the underworld.
Perhaps I’d already died and didn’t know it.
Maybe I already dwelled in hell.
Whisper nudged my hip.
I looked down at the sleek black beast, and she sprang into my head.
My teeth gnashed together as my poisoned heart kicked.
I needed to kill her.
The longer we spent time together—mainly in silence and tension—the more I struggled with what the fuck I was doing.
Why had I invited her in when I’d kept all the others far, far away?
Why did she intrigue me when no one else ever had?
She was the first person in my entire miserable life who wanted nothing from me.
Not my blood, my life, my company, my legacy, or my lineage.
And that...that did something to me far, far worse than the strangeness of her soothing company.
Being near her eased my constant pain, but the more time I spent with her, the more a different kind of pain appeared.
One that had no cure.
One that grew worse every time we talked.
And for the first time in my pathetic life, I wanted to touch.
I wanted to know what it would be like to give in to the urges catching fire inside me.
I wanted to crack open her head and learn everything she kept hidden.
I wanted to find a way to stop whatever this was because if I didn’t—
Planting my palms on the parapet, I bared my teeth at the night.
I clawed at the stone as another siphoning of pain from the vitalsync core drenched my system.
I hated that she hurt...like me.
I hated that I recognised her agony and sympathised with my enemy.
But what I hated the most was that she affected me.
She drove me into a different kind of madness.
And one day soon, I’d break.