managed to come for me again, one final time. And it was hard to ever believe that I was totally safe from him even now I knew he would never be able to come for me again. Especially as he still haunted me in my dreams.
For the briefest moment, as my fingertip slid over a scar along my ribs, it was like I could feel the white hot, blinding pain of that blade carving into my flesh. Sun steel. The most deadly weapon known to Fae. The damage it caused impossible to ever fully heal. I could almost feel the vines that bound me to that cold, metal table, almost smell the tang of old alcohol on my papa's breath. Almost hear my screams.
I lurched off of my uncomfortable cot in the corner of the room and threw myself over the toilet as I began to heave, shoving my arms back through the sleeves of my sweater. But there was nothing in my empty stomach to come up. I just heaved until I fell back on my ass panting, and the terror and pain of those memories finally faded enough for me to breathe again.
I almost felt like that once more, this tiny cage bringing back all the memories I held inside me of all the times I'd been pinned at that man's mercy. Locked in the dark and left to suffer for him. And now I suffered at the leisure of another.
Cain might have hated me for what I'd done, or what he believed I'd done, and though at first, the idea of that cut me up inside, I'd come to realise that it didn't matter. I might have done some things with no motive beyond my desire for him, but I had used him too. I still would, given half the chance. He'd shown me who he really was, and I wasn't fool enough to ever doubt that again.
So in place of any misguided feelings I might have started to believe I had felt for him, I'd placed two solid facts which I could state with truth and venom.
I saved his life.
He left me to rot.
And if I ever got out of this stinking hell and there was even the slightest part of me left able to fight then I would direct all of my hatred his way for what he'd done to me.
Mason Cain was a dead man walking.
He just didn't know it yet.
T welve was supposed to be out of sight, out of mind. So why was she out of sight, but so deeply in my fucking mind that I couldn’t think of anything else? It was like I’d chained her up inside my own fucking head and she was scratching at the walls, tearing out chunks of my damn brain. Bitch.
I hated her. I fucking loathed her. But I was obsessed with her too. No, I was possessed by her. That girl had some sort of magic about her that could bypass the cuffs and worm its way under my flesh. She’d used me. Manipulated me. Made me think that I – she – we –
“Fuck,” I gritted out.
I was in the guards’ gym, working my body to its limits as veins bulged in my arms and sweat poured over my naked chest. No matter how hard I pushed myself, nothing worked to force her out. Even after all this time.
I’d considered leaving this forsaken fucking place, but then I’d be facing the pathetic truth that I tried to ignore as much as Faely possible. I had nowhere to go. Outside of these walls, I had nothing and no one. In here, I had one thing that kept me sane. A purpose. To keep the monsters of the world contained while ensuring I didn’t end up joining them myself. Because if I left here seeking another life, I knew how it would go. The bloodthirsty creature in me wouldn’t rest. I’d find ways to feed it. I’d go too far. And one way or another, I’d be hauled back here in cuffs. I knew that on some base level.
I already pushed the boundaries of legality on too many occasions. Attending underground hunts was the least of it. And now Twelve had shown up with her pussy hypnosis and innocent eyes. She’d had me by the balls. Had me risking the one thing that I’d claimed as my own. A job I’d worked tirelessly to secure. Which I’d given everything to because the alternative was becoming