“Reese,” Cason says, his voice firmer now.
Electric sparks dance across his fingertips where they press against my chest. It’s not threatening, just meant to anchor me. His eyes hold mine, and…
I’m so incredibly fucked.
Because I love him enough to stop.
No matter how much rage or violence or restraint there is, I’ll always fucking stop. Even now, even like this with my shadows pulling on their invisible leash, I would rather tear myself apart holding them back than risk upsetting him.
My jaw clenches painfully as I drag them tighter around us both instead of letting them strike. Because every instinct in me screams that this is wrong, that Malcolm deserves to die. That letting him live is a mistake we’ll regret.
But Cason’s standing between us looking at me like he’s asking for trust instead of blood.
And God help me…
I can’t deny him.
The room feels one wrong breath away from collapsing in on itself. Cason’s hands stay planted against my chest, electricity flickering weakly beneath his skin while my shadows writhe around us like starving animals pulling at chains. Behind him, Malcolm watches silently. Waiting.
But I look at Cason instead.Reallylook at him. And I can see how torn apart he is. How everything Malcolm dumped on him tonight is still rearranging itself inside his head. The realization that almost every horrible thing in his life traces back to the man standing ten feet away. And despite all of that, he still doesn’t want me to kill him.
I don’t understand how that makes him stronger than me, but somehow it does.
“Tell me this is because he could be useful. And not just because he’s your family.”
“He’s not my family. Not anymore.” He shakes his head, his eyes sad. “I’ll never forgive him for what he did to us. To you. To Ash.”
The shadows jerk violently around us.
I close my eyes for two seconds because I can feel what they want. They’ve wanted it for years. They react to my anger like blood in water, pressing harder against the room every second that Malcolm Bellrose keeps breathing.
Ash flashes through my mind. Then the others. All those bodies, all that blood. Everything Malcolm built on top of their graves.
And still, Cason stands between us.
Which means his reason is stronger than all of that.
In a world where Ascended exist, seeing probable futurescouldbe useful.
“Besides,” Cason says, “he doesn’t deserve something so quick.”
Behind him, Malcolm bows his head, something deeper than defeat in the shape of his shoulders.
And just like that, I understand what those other possibilities were. Not mercy or escape or a quick death. He saw the ones where I killed him, and he accepted them because death is easier than what comes for him instead. Easier than consequences, than facing what I’ll do to him if denied my first choice.
“You just realized it, didn’t you?” Cason asks, that little grin in the corner of his mouth back. “The thing he’s afraid of.”
I take a slow breath as my shadows twitch.
Then Cason says one word.
“You.”
For the first time all night, Malcolm’s composure fractures. He lifts his head, and our eyes lock over Cason’s shoulder. He swallows hard, his jaw ticking. I can see it in him now, what he truly fears.
Chaos. Loss of control.Me.
For seven years, I dreamed about killing this man. Sometimes quickly, sometimes not. I imagined bullets and knives and shadows crushing the air from his lungs while he begged for me to end it.
