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"Thanks, I'm fine." With that, I curl up on my side. I have no desire to do anything right now. I've learned my lesson.
"All right, well, if you change your mind, just let me know."
As soon as she is out of the room, I blow out the few candles near me. She is wrong, I don't want to sleep, and I definitely don't want to talk about it anymore. All I want is to be alone and somehow forget everything that has happened. I want to forget Verrin and every moment I spent with him.
But how can I when he made Protheka a bearable place? He made my prison a home.
I walked over to the window and stared outside, hoping to find something to distract me. There is nothing. The sky is dark, and the stars are shining brightly. I wonder where he is right now.
Probably killing somebody somewhere far away from here. Or maybe he's still torturing those poor souls. How much longer until he strikes again?
Suddenly, an image of his smiling face flashes before my eyes. His blackened eyes gleam menacingly, almost looking like a monster in disguise.
He's a monster. He has killed so many people. Why would you do that? Do you have no conscience, or are you just pretending to be human so everyone else will trust you?
I blinked a few times and rubbed my tired eyes. I need to stop thinking about him. I shouldn't allow myself to care.
It'll only bring trouble down on me, and I don't need that right now. Besides, even if I do, I know that no matter what he's doing, it’s only for selfish reasons. He doesn't give a damn about anyone except himself. And that's why he deserves everything he gets from it. If I cared …
If I cared, I would kill him myself. If I cared, I wouldn't be running away.
A tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away and continued staring out the window. I wish I knew what was going through his head now that he is free. Is he angry with me? Sad? Lonely?
Does he miss me? I should know better than to assume things. I can't afford to fall for a man like Verrin. Not even if he tried to show me kindness.
It was all a pretense. All lies. He would never love me. Was he even capable of truly loving someone? Of course not. He's a demon, and demons don't love. I feel so foolish for ever thinking he could. How stupid am I to believe in such things?
With a heavy heart and tears running down my face, I returned to the couch and laid down. I don't know how long I slept, but it must've been a while because my body aches when I move. My legs throb, and my arms feel stiff.
“Did you sleep all right?" Carmen asks as she walks over to me with a mug of steaming liquid in her hand. She takes a sip out of it and gives me a soft smile.
She places the mug on the coffee table and sits next to me. She places both her hands on mine and squeezes them lightly, "Do you want to talk about it?"
I glance up at her in alarm and shake my head vigorously. Talking about it is something I hate. I mean, it doesn't matter if it's real or imaginary. I can't deal with it. The reality is far too awful.
"If you're sure," she replies softly. "I won't pressure you."
"You've already made it clear that you're listening anyway." I attempt to joke with her.
"True enough."
We sit silently for a while. Neither one of us speaks, and I'm grateful for that. Talking about my problems is the last thing I want right now.
TWENTY-ONE
VERRIN
When Jenna fled from her farm after the calamity in the village, I could have easily run after her and pleaded with her for some morsel of understanding. But the look on her face had said all I needed to know. Despite our whirlwind dalliance, she had yet to see the true demon in me, and when I finally revealed that darkness, it was too much for her to take.
For which I don’t blame her in the slightest. Demons are meant to commit carnage, to cause destruction at every turn, but I had lost sight of that after crash-landing in some strange and foreign place. I had met a human woman who made me want to be something else entirely. Something that goes against my vile nature and inclination toward chaos.
She is intelligent, sarcastic, and a fucking bombshell of a babe. Her dazzling, fiery wash of red hair falling into my face, with its pleasant aroma of nature and sage, is something I will hold within the iron cage of my heart for eternity.
I had nothing else to do but to get back to the place that would embrace my woes, back to Galmoleth.
Yeelus, of course, was thrilled by the slaughter and my return to the king’s court. But he wasn’t thrilled with my downcast disposition.
I sit in my lair, staring out the wide window that looks over the singed harvest of a neighbor's former crops. It had once rested at the top of my list of the most intoxicating schemes to date, which included blackmail, threats, and conniving morally stark interludes. I had been riveted by manipulating the poor dunce into casting protheylene … a flammable liquid often used to make the carts for equus … all over his own fields and setting them aflame.
