Page 90 of Pucked Around and Found Out

It's not forgiveness.

It's not even close.

But it's not immediate execution either.

I turn away as Gyle and two others carefully lift Cas off the ice, his groans of pain echoing through the rink.

Toren is still here standing at the edge, watching me with those unreadable eyes. Sneaky little bitch, I thought she left.

“Happy?” I call out to her. “He lives. You got your way.”

“This isn't about getting my way,” she says quietly. “This is about you choosing who you want to be.”

“I know exactly who I am,” I counter.

“Do you?” She tilts her head. “Because the man who just spared Cas's life, who listened to his reasons instead of just killing him, looks a lot different than the monster you keep insisting you are.”

I don't have an answer for that.

So I do what I do best, I shut down.

“Get out,” I say flatly. “Before I change my mind about all of this.”

Carnage appears at her side, his hand on her elbow, ready to guide her away.

She turns and leaves, Carnage supporting her as they exit the rink.

When I'm finally alone—just me and the blood staining the ice—I sink to my knees and let the mask drop.

Cas loved KennaDee.

He's been carrying that grief the same way I've been carrying mine.

And Fiona weaponized it. Twisted it. Used it to turn my best friend against me.

The darkness is still there.

Still pulling.

Still whispering that I should have killed him anyway.

But I didn't.

Because for the first time in two years, I'm starting to understand something.

We're all just broken people trying to survive our grief in whatever way we can.

Some of us torture.

Some of us betray.

Some of us push away everyone who tries to love us.

But underneath it all, we're just scared and alone, desperate for answers that might never come.

And maybe—just maybe—that makes us human.

Not monsters.