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Before I head off on a waste-of-time quest, I think I should repay Slade’s unexpected visit.
First thing tomorrow morning.
Chapter 4
SLADE
Running a hand through my hair, I open my eyes, cutting off my vision to her, and then slam my fist through a wall.
Why did I get that close yesterday? Why did I touch her like that?
Why the fuck did I stay in that position?
Why in the hell can’t I stop thinking about it?
Now, knowing she’s about to be gone for who knows how long is eating me alive like a viciously spreading virus. Everything in me is demanding I go to her, claim her, and—
No.
Breathing out slowly, I stare at the charts in front of me, reminding me of what’s to come. I might have been slow to find that prophecy, but now I know how to end the otherwise never-ending nightmares.
If I close my eyes, I see her. If I fall asleep, I remember too much of what was done to me when I’m not dreaming of her.
My eyes move to the mirror, seeing all the scars that mar my face and body. The mirror shows me—the only immortal to ever be less than physically perfect—that my heinous scars are still not accurately reflective of all the damage they truly did.
My fist opens and closes.
The scars are just small reminders of the screams they once tore from my throat. Until I learned to swallow my sounds and smile, much to their horror, despite the never-ending burn of excruciating pain.
The first time I saw her, I knew I had to be delusional. No creature that stunning would be able to see me as more than inferior. I’d been captured, after all. I wasn’t a worthy male.
The more I saw her, the more I knew it’d never happen. Marked by pain. Destroyed and weak. Hideously scarred like no other being in our world.
I’ve always seen her as my salvation and damnation. Bloody maddening girl.
The longer I had to watch her, the more hardened my heart…and other parts of my body, became. It was the worst form of sweet torture.
I saw these same visions over and over and over. Including the ones of him. The one who manipulated her and took things he had no right to take.
As soon as I finally located him, I ripped him to fucking pieces. Then I pissed on his house. And some of his other men I killed were pissed on as well. I almost lowered myself to shitting in his yard like a common town drunk or village idiot.
It was a damn good day.
Probably the best day I’ve had since freedom was achieved.
It even trumps having Ella under me yesterday, because I wasn’t annoyed that day or struggling for fucking control. I had control that day.
Damn girl with her dark temptations and lack of impulse control. She doesn’t know how to be properly afraid. She gets off on the fear. Gets off on the dark. Even as she fights the truth of who she is.
I think she even gets off on the scars.
I have to stop thinking about this. I’ve endured countless visions of her life from the day she was a woman. Never before. Only the woman, with all her indecent allure and wicked eyes. She’s all I’ve been forced to watch, and has become the single most infuriating aspect of my entire existence.
And that says quite a lot.
Cursing, I close my eyes again, when I suddenly hear a far-too-familiar voice dryly state, “Boo.”
Not reacting immediately, I pretend as though her very fucking ill-timed surprise visit doesn’t affect me.
