Page 265 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Goodnight, princess.”

Though when it comes time to end the call, neither of us does. We just remain in silence, and every so often, I hear him take a drink. I fall asleep to the sounds of him down the line, strangely enough, feeling safer than I have since I shoved him from my life.

Chapter One Hundred Eight

The Stranger

Forgiveness is not something I’ve ever had to work for. It’s never been something I cared about or that mattered to me. How could I ask for forgiveness from a corpse? From a family that was now bereft of a piece of themselves due to me. That is, if I left the family alive at all.

But now I have to work for the forgiveness of the one person I can’t live without, and the worst part is, I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her forgiveness for what I did. No matter how I was raised or who I am as a person. Monster or not, killer or not, I crossed a line that in hindsight seems so extremely clear to me.

It was only my guilt and conscience that made me do nothing but watch as she picked things back up with the berserker, even going so far as to give him a ring to protect him from me.

Even the memory of it slashes at my soul, and I know I have no one to blame but myself. None of us are safe from karma.

He is so important to her that she gave him a gift. One of protection and safety. The shells I still wear on my wrist feel like a reminder of how far I’ve pushed her from my side. There was a time she’d given me a gift out of sentimentality, and she had another prepared for me for the solstice, but I fucked every­thing up. My anger and jealousy took hold and twisted me into a shadow of myself who thought nothing of hurting the one thing I treasure above all else.

I’ve stayed awake all night listening to her breathing softly on the phone, not willing to miss a single moment of this rare truce between us. I know she’s declared a momentary ceasefire, but I remember the way her eyes burned and her power flared when she told me how she would spill my blood. Even now, I know that rage is still there. It’s temporarily quieted, but it is not extinguished.

It’s just another way we are alike. I’ve survived on spite and hatred for a long time. There were times I put the anger to rest and let myself grieve for what could have been, but the rage never truly left me. It found a home in my darkness, flourishing inside it.

When the sun has fully risen, I pick up the phone. “Princess? It’s the morning.”

She moans sleepily but doesn’t speak. Her breathing remains in a steady rhythm of unconsciousness. I chuckle as I get out of bed and start getting ready for the day, carrying my phone with me to listen to her breathing.

“Stranger . . .” she moans suddenly, and the way she says it makes me almost drop my phone in surprise. When did she wake up?

Waving my hand, I pull the security spell up for her bedroom, confused to see that she’s still asleep. I frown at my phone before a smirk twitches across my lips.

“Yes?” I ask.

She moans in sleep again, tossing slightly in bed.

I groan in response. “If you keep sleeping like that, I’m going to wake you up with my cock.” She grips the sheets tightly, still asleep. “I know your pussy is soaking for me. I’d slip right inside.” She rewards me with another moan. No doubt her dreams are turning even filthier, powered by my voice. “You’d scream as you woke up with me mid-thrust . . . and you’d want more, demand more.”

She jolts awake, panting, her hand covering her throat, and her nipples clearly outlined beneath her thin shirt.

“Good morning,” I croon. “Sweet dreams?”

She pants and grabs the phone. “I should . . . go. I told Rafe I’d go to the gym with him.”

A bead of sweat slides down her throat and into the valley between her breasts, my eyes following it absently. “All right, princess. I’ll have to wait to hear you moan my name again.”

She slams the end button on her phone to avoid replying.

Little brat.

Chapter One Hundred Nine

Mira

He’s here. How can he be here? At the one university that called to me. The one place I felt I needed to be, to escape my home.

Is it still home if it became my prison? Can a place truly be your home if your new stepmother has you incarcerated because she doesn’t favor you? Well, the truth is the bitch fears me, but either way, home is supposed to be a place of safety, and Pyrrhos is no longer that for me.

I’m not even sure how I escaped. I know I had help, but I have no idea who, what, or how. It’s something I still haven’t been able to visualize.

I pace my new room restlessly. It’s nice, but far too flammable for me to live in. I will need to make some modifications to make it less so. Obviously, this school has never housed a phoenix before, not that it would. Phoenixes are taught in Pyrrhos, and our ruler heavily influences our education.