Page 68 of The Cannibal

“I can accept that you are angry with me and your sister . . . but you don’t think you’re being cruel to Alina?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The cold shoulder?”

“I just needed time to think.”

“You know very well by now that appearances matter—especially if we are to show a united front, both with our city and our own Nest.”

“I don’t know why,” I raised my voice, “there’s something inside me ready to snap. I don’t want it to be at her, or you—or anyone, for that matter.”

“So what do you think it is, then?”

“Luka, you’re good at making hard decisions and remaining indifferent,” I began, but the hardening of his expression made it known he wasn’t liking the insinuation. “I need a favor.”

“You sound like you’re gathering a will,” he teased.

“I need you to promise me,” I said slowly. “If I cannot stop myself, at any point, if I hurt her—I need you to kill me.”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t think anyone could do it except you.” I pressed my palms to my temples for relief. “It already makes me nauseous to think about.”

“You don’t think this is a bit melodramatic?” He approached slowly, like I was some wild caged animal. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m barely containing my urges. My body is barely able to eat because of her. I can’t predict my mood, my rage. It’s like it all comes spilling out. Like the night I beat you for hiding her. I barely remember what led up to it, I only saw red.”

A deep chuckle.

My eyes snapped in his direction. The most unconcerned smile was plastered on Luka’s face, enough where he had to cover his mouth.

“I take my demand back, you’re fired,” I sneered.

“Silas, you’re how old now?” He smirked.

“Two hundred twenty.” I crossed my arms tighter. “What’s so amusing?”

Luka took a deep breath, then an awkward glance away as if someone else would save him from the conversation.

“Did your father never explain this to you?” he mumbled.

“Explain what?” I glared.

“Ruts? Heats?” Luka winced. “Oh dear God he didn’t, did he.”

“I know what it is, you moron.” I didn’t think it was possible for this to be any more strenuous than it was.

“Well, you’re at that age.” Luka gestured generally and shrugged. “First one is always the worst.”

Now I wish I could have held on to my meal long enough to expel it directly at him at this moment.

“I think you’re just adjusting, no need to kill you yet.” It sounded like a joke. “It will pass. For the both of you. You and Alina will be just fine, like two little doves.”

“What if I snap? I could forget she’s turned and kill her. What if I can’t even remember her in a fit of this . . . this rage?”

“I am not your personal doctor,” Luka started, “but you appear to be suffering from some sort of neurasthenia.”

“No.”