Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
There were no bodies in the Golden Palace.
I don’t know what would have been worse.
Going there and finding the rotting corpses of my parents.
Or going there, as I did, and finding nothing.
Just like Isera, I don’t feel like I can get any closure at all without knowing what happened to their bodies.
So after my futile visit to the Golden Palace, I came here.
To the one place I really shouldn’t be in right now.
My chest tightens so painfully that I can barely get a single breath down as I stand there in the empty kitchen of my parents’ house. Because it is empty. Not just deserted. Empty.
Tears burn hot against my eyelids as I turn in a slow circle, right in the place where our kitchen table used to be.
There is nothing in here. The scratched table is gone.
The chairs are gone. All the plates and the cutlery.
The curtains. Even the new drinking glasses that my parents were finally issued years after I broke the first ones. All of it. Gone.
I try to swallow past the thickness in my throat, but it doesn’t work, so I walk back into the living room instead. My footsteps echo against the bare walls. The couch, the small table, the frayed carpet, my mother’s boxes of needles and thread, all of it… gone.
No air is making it down to my lungs, so I start drawing in faster breaths to make up for it. But that just makes my head spin.
I stare at the space where the couch used to be.
Images of my parents sitting there side by side flash before my eyes.
Images of both before and after I ruined everything with my magic.
Happy memories from when I was a small child flit through my mind like elusive butterflies.
I was so young back then that I can’t fully remember everything. Just bits and pieces.
Warmth and safety as I was nestled on my mother’s lap while she hugged me. A thrill racing through my body as my father picked me up and spun me around. Smiles. Laughter. The before.
Then the after. Anger and resentment. Yelling and accusations. Tears and frustration and orders to leave them alone. To get out. To stop. Hatred. Broken screams that I ruined everything.
And the worst part of all is that I might have been able to fix it.
Now that I am able to see that final thread that remains when I create an emotion out of nothing, I could have removed the hatred from my parents’ chests.
If it was there. We could have become a real family again.
If I had checked on them sooner. If I had told them to hide after I pissed off Jessina.
If I had done a million things differently.
But I didn’t.
A sob slips from my lips, and my knees buckle. I crash down hard on the ground there in the middle of the living room while the brutal reality of my life hits me like a violent assault.
I will never get to introduce Draven to my parents. They will never know that I have found a fated mate who sees me for who I really am and loves all parts of me. That I have found happiness and that I have a wonderful future waiting for me just beyond the horizon.
My parents will never meet their grandchildren. I will never get to ask my mom for advice on childbirth. Or marriage. Or anything at all.
And worst of all, always worst of all, I will never know if they loved me.
Tears stream down my face as I bow forward over my knees and press my hands to the cold floor while gasping in breaths that never make it to my lungs. Unending grief and regret press down on my back like a boulder, crushing me against the floor.
I don’t know what happened to their bodies. I don’t know if they loved me. I don’t know anything. There are no answers. No closure. Just agonizing, unending regret.
My chest aches and my heart hurts so badly that I wish I could rip it out of my body.
I can’t be in here. I can’t see these empty rooms and the memories that echo like ghosts between the bare walls. I can’t keep feeling like this. I’m going to die. Oh Goddess, I’m going to die.
Shoving myself up from the floor, I stagger a few steps while my head spins. Then I run for the door. Shouldering it open, I stumble out into the late summer night. The warm air wraps around me like a blanket, but it doesn’t feel comforting. It feels as if it’s trying to suffocate me.
I pull desperately at the collar of my shirt as I stagger down the street, but no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m being strangled to death.
I need my magic. I need the comfort. The pleasure.
Just a little boost. Just to break through this panic and regret.
Oh Goddess, I need it. I need it so fucking badly. I need—
My gaze snags on a group of people inside the building right next to me.
Coming to an abrupt halt, I slowly turn towards the window and stare in right through it while my heart pounds like a battle drum inside me.
Because it’s them. The group that Alistair pointed out earlier.
Some of the traitors who held him down and burned him to prove to the dragon shifters that they were good little fae.
This time, I don’t even hesitate. Because I need this.
No, I mean, Alistair needs this. I’m doing this for Alistair. That’s it. It’s not for myself. It’s only for Alistair.
Liar, my mind whispers.
I block it out and just yank the door open.
All five people inside the kitchen on the other side jump in surprise.
Twisting in their chairs, they stare at me with wide eyes as I stalk inside.
I know that I should probably close the door behind me, but I can’t concentrate on anything else right now.
All my brain is focused on is the pleasure that will hit me in two seconds.
It consumes every thought in my head. Like a drowning woman anticipating a life-saving breath.
“What are you doing?” the guy on the left blurts out.
“Wait,” the woman next to him begins as she squints at me. “Aren’t you—”
I create a black flame of despair and slam it into her chest.
She bursts out crying.
The others whirl towards her in shock while indescribable pleasure floods my whole soul.
I gasp in a deep breath, my lungs finally expanding fully.
Warm comfort wraps around me like the perfect hug, and I suddenly feel like I’m floating on a soft cloud.
The woman crumples down from the chair and sobs on the floor as I increase the despair in her chest until it consumes her whole body. My soul thrums.
That’s it, I tell myself. I’ve broken through the pain and regret now, so I know that I should release the grip on my magic. But I just… I just need a few more seconds.
“Darla,” the guy next to her yells. “What the hell is going on?”
The woman, Darla, continues wailing on the floor. Pleasure pulses inside me. I make sure to keep all of those emotions firmly on my side of the mate bond so that Draven won’t feel it.
“You!” another guy screams, snapping his gaze to me. “What the hell are you doing?”
The first man gasps. “Selena! That’s Selena. The one they call Soulstealer.”
Fuck. Yanking my magic back, I leave the despair in Darla’s chest and then summon a new flame of despair. Grief and regret tear through my soul again now that the pleasure is gone, so I quickly shove my magic into the first guy’s chest.
He starts bawling his eyes out as well.
Pleasure floods my body again.
The other three, now realizing that this is fully my doing, leap up from their seats. I quickly cut off the flow of my magic and create new emotions. They crumple to the floor, one after the other, as I slam massive flames of despair into their chests.
Once they’re all sobbing and gasping on the floor in hopelessness, I try to force myself to leave. I’ve gotten the boost of magic that I needed. And I’ve taken revenge on the people who hurt my friend. This is enough. I know that this should be enough.
But I still can’t force myself to leave.
My whole soul is begging to feel that addictive pleasure again.
So I create another emotion.
And then another.
And another.
The five people before me writhe and cry and beg on the floor as I shove emotion after emotion into their bodies.
My head rings from the noise, but I can’t stop.
Every time I break the connection to my magic, my mind screams at me to do it again.
And all I can do is to listen. I can’t deny myself that wonderful pleasure. I can’t ignore the terrible craving.
Dropping down on my knees, I gasp in breaths and flex my hands as I create more and more emotions. The people before me shake and tremble on the floor. I know that I should stop. I know that this is wrong. But I just can’t handle it. I can’t fucking handle it!
That terrible craving is too strong. I’ve tried to deny it for so long now. Ever since I lost control in Orion’s dungeon. But it’s impossible to ignore. And once I’ve begun, it’s impossible to stop too.
The more I use my magic, the stronger the addictive need gets. And now, my need is stronger than my willpower.
Tears spill down my face. Because deep down, I recognize that there is something seriously wrong with me.
But the rest of me doesn’t care. As long as I can feel that wonderful pleasure, I don’t care about anything else.
I don’t need to eat or drink or sleep. All I need is this. I will stay here for eternity. I will—
Darla’s heart gives out.
The pleasure is abruptly cut off as she dies.
The loss of that comforting warmth is like a kick to the chest. Panicked, I create another emotion and shove it into the next person’s chest. But I’ve lost count of how many emotions I have already forced into their chests, and this one kills the next guy as well.
One by one, they all die while I claw in panic at the floor, trying to get that warm and comforting pleasure back. I gasp in broken sobs, trying to slam my magic into their bodies. But there is nothing left to connect it to. They’re all already dead.
Dread and panic and regret crash down over me as if someone has shattered the roof above my head.
It buries me. Suffocates me. Curling up on the floor, I claw at the ground and my own chest in an attempt to physically rip the emotions out of my soul.
But it doesn’t work. Desperate tears stream down my cheeks.
I want it back. I want that comforting pleasure back. I need it. Without it, I’m going to die. I don’t—
“Oh, Selena.”
Still lying on the floor, I jerk my head up and stare in panic at the door while a mountain of dread crashes over me.
Orion Nightbane is standing there in the open doorway, watching me.