Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“You always know it was bad?”
“The cult? Yeah. When I was little, it was just what I knew, but as I got older, I knew something was wrong. I guess I was different.”
“Ever try to run?”
I shake my head. “I wanted to, believe me. But where would I go?”
His eyes flash. He understands.
“There is a little girl in there named Lily. When she was born, she was sickly, and they just didn’t care about her. I did. I always made sure she was taken care of. In the end, she is the reason I didn’t run. She is the reason I fear them now.”
“We’ll get her out.”
He says that with such confidence.
But he doesn’t know the kind of monsters they are.
“This is a war I’m afraid you might lose,” I whisper.
He leans forward, eyes pinning mine. “I don’t lose.”
I believe that he believes that.
But the kind of evil that runs in that cult... it’s the kind of evil most people can’t even begin to understand.
“I want them to burn,” I say, so softly I wonder if he’ll even hear me.
“Then we’ll fuckin’ do it together.”
I hold his gaze.
He means it.
Do I dare allow myself to hope?
I JOLT AWAKE, MY NECK stiff, and the faint crackle of dying embers in the fireplace echoing in the silence. It takes me a long moment to remember where I am, and as my eyes zero in on the coffee mug on the table, it all comes flashing back. Somehow, I fell asleep on the damn couch. I rub the back of my neck, groaning softly as I sit up. The blanket Talon threw over me has fallen to the floor.
I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.
A stark reality that I’m still here.
Still breathing.
Still free.
Sort of.
My family haven’t caught up with me yet, but they will.
I stand, stretching, and pad barefoot across the cold floor toward the hallway. The entire place is quiet. It must be early. Outside, the stale stench of smoke and last night’s chaos still lingers in the air, wafting through the open window. It’s chilly, and I shiver as I quickly use the bathroom and then make the decision to shower before everyone wakes up.
Inside my room, I grab clean clothes and head for the shower. I need to scrub off the night, the dream, the way Talon looked at me—like he saw too much. How can he have only just met me, and yet he seems to have the ability to read me like a book? The way he looks into my soul sends shivers down my spine. I’m scared of the things that Talon makes me feel.
The bathroom is empty, and I sigh in relief. I flick the lock and turn on the water. It groans through the pipes before spilling hot and hard against the tile. Steam curls up the mirrors as I step out of my clothes and into the water. For a few minutes, I just stand there, letting the heat burn my skin and soothe my sore muscles. For a second, I just pretend this is normal. That I’m a normal girl, living a normal life.
Not a runaway.
Not a marked soul.
At the reminder of the life I ran from, I grab the soap and begin to scrub. Hard. Too hard. My skin stings, but I keep going. The memories mess with my brain, and I scrub as if that will wash away the guilt I am feeling. I know that this is the right thing, but knowing Lily is there and I am here is eating me alive. I know they’ll punish her for what I’m doing.
I don’t know if I can live with that.
The door opens.
I freeze, my back facing the outside, my eyes widening with horror.
“Fuck,” a deep voice mutters. “Didn’t know you were in here. Sorry.”
Talon.
My heart lurches into my throat. I spin around too fast, slipping slightly on the wet tiles, my hands instinctively flying to the wall so I don’t completely fall over. I’m not moving to protect him from seeing my naked body, no, I’m moving so he can’t see the jagged scars lining my back. The ugly, broken pieces of me.
But I’m too slow.
He sees.
Everything.
“What the fuck...” he breathes, his voice low but sharp.
Shame washes over me, stabbing me in the gut as tears well in my eyes. “Get out!” I cry, backing into the wall, trying to shield myself, even though it’s pointless now.
He doesn’t move.
His eyes are locked on mine.
“Who the fuck did that to you?”
“Get out,” I yell again, my voice shaky.
“Not until you tell me who the fuck did that to you.”
His voice is steel. Hard. Controlled.
“I said get out!” I scream.
His eyes flick with something—rage, pity, maybe even confusion or shock. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want him to see what I allowed them to do. I don’t want him to think I’m weak for letting it happen. For staying even when I could have run.