Chapter 52
Blood sprayed the second Endellion’s tormentor finally grew sick of her silence and disappeared—a red mist that flew from her lips and coated her shackles, the slivers of her exposed skin, her infinite hair.
It had been near impossible to hold it in, but this had needed to be secret laughter.
Just between her and her.
She’d choked on it as he’d beaten her. Setting it free was a relief, her manic cackles like music as they echoed from the walls of her prison.
They’d just made a terrible, wonderful, mistake. Or, at least, his unwitting accomplice had—if she could be called such thing, ignorant as she was.
Poetic, really, the way her surprise blunder would eventually ruin him.
He would be scrambling. Sloppy, because he was too fucking selfish to realize that life didn’t revolve around him anymore. His egotistical mindset would only work in their favor.
“It’s done,” she breathed to no one, voice still shaking with her mirth.
The end of the middle of the beginning of the middle of the end.
So many pieces, pieces, pieces, all moving, moving, moving.
They’d brought it on themselves. Her little vengeful moth would be coming for them now, lit up like her sisters in the sky—just as soon as she woke up.
Then, it would get dark and dangerous and complicated.
Then, it would really begin.