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He released me but didn't look away, and I hurried back into the bathroom. I took my time disposing of the cloth, trying to ground myself before joining him again.
Neither of us spoke when I sat on the edge of the bed. The heavy rain calmed to a light drizzle tapping the windows.
“Pretty bad dream,” I said, testing his willingness to speak on the matter. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He leaned his head back against the headboard, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead. "Every night, the people I've killed visit me in my dreams." I bit down on my lip, not expecting such an answer. "I've had nightmares every night for years."
“Are they always like what I just saw? You were clawing at your chest," I laid a hand on my chest, and his eyes followed.
In the semi-darkness, his eyes were completely black and burning through me, right down to my naked body, until he looked away.
"Every night, I dream about them clawing at me, trying to drag me to hell," he scoffed with a slight shake of his head. "One day, I'll see them there, but they're impatient, it would seem.”
“Don’t say that,” I shot back, and he smiled. "I mean it."
“Okay,” he replied, and his smile widened, but then it faded. "I could have hurt you, Marian."
“You didn’t,” I said while pulling his shirt over my knees. “You looked like you were going to rip your heart out. I had to do something, but tell me, do you think about the dark creatures you’ve killed?”
He didn’t answer right away until he bobbed his head. “I do. There have been instances where a dark creature created against their will had to be killed. Like a human turned ghoul, a newborn vampire, and so on. If we see that they can be helped, we offer that but some… have to be killed.”
“I understand,” I whispered. “So you feel regret?”
“Of course,” he answered without hesitation. “I regret those who didn't deserve the hardship they had to face that inevitably led to their deaths.”
“Then stop carrying such a burden," I told him, and he frowned. "That's why you're dreaming about them, and I'm no psychologist, but maybe you need to look at things from a different perceptive. For those few that deserved better, you spared them from a painful existence of being something they're not, a dark creature. You saved those people, so instead of thinking they want to drag you to hell as revenge and that a part of you deserves it for killing them, think about the fact that you gave them mercy from a tortured existence."
“Maybe your dreams will change,” I told him. “So much of our daily lives bleed into our dreams.”
I looked away, thinking about how long it had taken me to stop dreaming about him after our breakup. He’d plagued my thoughts during the day and my dreams at night. There was no escaping him and my pain.
“Hey,” Dorian called softly and shuffled over to the other side of the bed. “Come here.”
He patted the bed beside him, and I crawled on. With my back against the headboard, I looked towards the window past him, the gentle taps of rain becoming a downpour.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Dorian said, pulling my attention. “I became very good at my job, at killing, and sometimes I've wondered if, to monsters, I'm a monster."
“Perhaps,” I rebutted, and he laughed.
“Wow, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” I chuckled. “But there’s a major difference between you and them since they kill to ruin lives, and you and every hunter do it to save lives.”
"Thank you," Dorian said softly, and I tilted my head to look at him. "You've always been good at saying the right thing."
"Well, I don't want to say the right thing. I want to say what'll genuinely help," I said. “I’m not saying whatyouwant to hear or what’ll only make you feel better for now. I’m saying what youneedto hear, and I'd meant it when I said you deserve the peace of retirement."
“But tell me, would you have left anytime soon if nothing had happened?” I probed. “How long would you have taken before coming home?”
"As long as I was doing my job effectively," he answered honestly. "Other than the pack, there was nothing here for me to return to. Nikoli was safe in school, and I never thought you'd even speak to me again. What would I return to?”
I looked away. I was happy with his honesty but saddened at the same time.
My sadness wasn't for myself but for him. It wasn't pity, just sadness that he'd given so much of himself to think he didn't deserve peace when his last day on earth arrived.
"You know, I made a vow to slap you whenever I saw you again," I said, and as much as I'd wanted to say it with a serious face, I laughed, and so did he. "I'm serious. I was gonna make it good too. I practiced.”
“On what?” he laughed.
