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What had Marcus created in me? What had I become? I wanted to tell myself that it was to protect Damien, I knew better though.
I was a monster.
My body shook, and I lifted my eyes to him. “Damien. Something’s… wrong with me… I don’t know what—”
“Easy,mea luna. I’ve got you,” he said and braced me when my knees threatened to buckle under me.
A nearby door swung open, and Zephyr entered, looking a mess of blood and dirt. “Damien? Gods, I’m glad we found you! What happened? We heard the explosion and Marcus’ guys took off into the woods!”
My eyes darted to Zephyr, before glancing up at Damien, his eyes still fresh with worry.
Damien’s eyes were pained as he stared down at me, but he turned to Zephyr. “Marcus is gone.”
Zephyr’s gaze shifted to me, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. My stomach turned hearing Damien say those words, and I vomited on the floor. Damien whipped to help stabilize me before I fell over.
Vincent came running in. “Guys! There are sirens headed this way! We’ve got to get the hell out of here!”
The room went silent, and Thalia appeared behind him. “The fuck are you waiting for? Come on!”
“Fuck.” Damien grabbed my hand, leading me in a rush outside.
I couldn’t speak, only follow.
33
Isat curled into myself in the library, alone. On the small table resting next to me sat a plate of barely touched food. The cold temperatures of winter ‘s approach had crept in. The birds that had yet to migrate south danced and sang outside the window on the branches of the maple trees. Delicate snowflakes drifted down outside the window. The first snow. It likely wouldn’t stick, would only fall to melt away into nothing.
Lost in my own thoughts, I’d remained here most of the day, and the afternoon sun began to slip behind the mountains as another day came to a close. I dreaded the night, dreaded the cold emptiness the darkness brought, when the birds would leave and I would be left in the deafening quiet, alone with my own thoughts.
I’d barely slept in the last three days. The three days that had passed since Marcus had set the trap for us at the scrapyard. The three days that had passed since Damien and I fought him.
The three days since I’d murdered him.
I kept trying to tell myself that I did it to save Damien, to protect him. However, I couldn’t deny the terrible things that had filled my head since he’d held me in that cell, the awful things I’d wanted to do to him. How I’d wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. The look on his face in his final moment haunted me. He’d thanked me. Why?
The room was dark, and the only source of fading light was the window at which I sat. The portrait of Damien I’d drawn stared at me, charcoal features that had burned their way into my soul, the watercolor of his eyes I couldn’t bring myself to meet.
The only color in my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at it.
My phone vibrated on the nearby table, and I wondered how many texts Kat had sent me now, how many texts I’d left unread. How many times had she tried to call? What would I say? Guilt curled in my gut, but I didn’t want to talk, didn’t have the energy to don the mask. The dark wooden bookshelves surrounded me, filled with all my favorite books. Under normal circumstances I would have found the most profound joy within this room, absorbed in these endless pages. Now I didn’t find happiness, only the quiet that I so desperately needed.
Who was I kidding? It wasn’t quiet that I needed, it was a hiding place. A place where I would be alone. I hadn’t dared enter our bedroom. I couldn’t even bring myself to look Damien in the eye after how cruelly I killed Marcus. I hated it for how I knew the avoidance would make him feel.
The door creaked opens slowly, and quiet footsteps entered. It was Damien’s angel of a servant, Ethel, quiet as she hovered near the small table where my food rested. It was the tenth time she had checked on me today.
“Cannae ye try tae get at least a little more food down, deary?” For once, her sweet voice wasn't enough to warm me.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. It was enough that I felt terrible for wasting the wonderful food she worked so hard to prepare. No matter how hard I tried, the second I put any food to my tongue I felt sick to my stomach. It was a feat just to get the few bites I could manage down.
“I’m sorry,Mitera. I just—” I pulled the blanket tightly around me. “I can’t get it down.”
She lingered a moment, but I continued to watch the bird outside the window as they one by one began to fly off for the night. She pulled a chair from the desk over to sit down next to me.
“Hev ye talked tae Lord Damien at all?”
I hesitated to speak, eyes lowering as the last bird disappeared, and the silence I dreaded was left in their wake. “I can’t bring myself to face him.”
“Lord Damien donnae think any less o’ ye.” She lifted my chin to look into my eyes. “Ye should go tae him. He’s more worried than anythin’.”
