Page 69 of Dark Night of the Soul

“I know.”

I inhaled a breath—his scent—and closed my eyes. “They did something to me.”

He waited.

“Changed me,” I added. “You have to stop me. Next time.”

Again. Nothing. Like he was processing my words.

“Promise me,” I whispered. The same words I said in the cell before they took me. Before they tried to break me.

“I promise.”

He said nothing else. Didn’t add conditions. Didn’t ask questions.

That scared me more than reassurance would have.

I stared at the far wall, at a knot in the wood paneling that looked like an eye if you tilted your head to the right. Tried to breathe past the dull ache in my skull.

I didn’t know what would trigger me next time.

The first time, it had been how he moved at the window—too fast, too precise. My body had read threat where there was none.

The second time, it had been as simple as checking my pulse. Two fingers at my wrist. Care. Not force.

Both times, my brain had decided I was under attack.

Why?

How?

Because it was him?

Because that’s what they planted?

Because they’d turned me into a weapon meant for one specific target?

The thought made my stomach roll.

Sebastian’s voice surfaced then, uninvited. Smooth. Icy. Certain.

You’re a liability, he’d said, like he was commenting on the weather. But soon you’ll be an asset.

And more. He’d said more. More I was processing.

I closed my eyes.

They hadn’t wanted me trained.

They’d wanted me aimed.

The guard in the observation room had been a test. To see if the programming worked at all.

But Kincade—

Kincade was the target it had been designed for.

That’s why my body read threat in the way he moved. Why checking my pulse felt like an attack. They hadn’t taught me to fight.