Defying Destiny (Afterword Academy #3) - Katie May Page 0,52

the size of my foot. But I do get dirty. Disgustingly dirty, actually. But this burst of power cleans my body, washes my hair, and trims my haggard beard until you’ll never suspect that I spent centuries in a Hell prison.

The entire process takes less than five seconds, but it feels like an eternity. All I want to do is race out of this cell and see my beloved. To feel her silky hair beneath my hand, to see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes for me, to hear her laugh capable of seducing the moon from the sky.

I can finally be with Hadley.

That thought settles in my gut like a heavy rock, and instead of the excitement I thought I would feel, there’s a lingering dread. Because that knowledge—that I can finally be with the love of my miserable existence—reminds me of all the horrible things I have done. To her. To her other men. To innocents. Trepidation and excitement war inside of me as I scramble to my feet.

My cave is now devoid of any essences. Hopefully, they can travel through Hell and enter their respective bodies. It’s not enough to atone for all of my sins, but it sure is a start.

And that’s all I need.

A start.

To my right, covered by years of dirt and pebbles, is my Fate dagger. It calls to my soul, singing its unholy tune, and I’m helpless to resist the song.

I bend down and wipe my hand over the flaky dirt, cleaning away the blade that glints like moonlight in the darkened prison cell. It’s almost as if it’s covered in its own, personal silver sheen. Power ripples on the minuscule blade, power that calls to the torturous nature of my soul. And when my hand clasps around the hilt, I can feel that same power rush through me.

Energy crackles just beneath my skin, skittering like an army of fire ants, as I stalk out of the cave. For the first time since I was trapped, I embody Wrath. I am vengeance and pain personified, my entire being seeking to enact harm on the man who dared try to hurt who and what is mine. My anger festers in my lower stomach, percolating like the swirling tides of rapids, as I block everything out.

Hadley.

Her quad.

The dead monsters.

Only Abram exists at that moment—a threat I have to eliminate to ensure Hadley’s safety. He’ll never stop coming for us. Never stop fighting. He won’t rest until one of us is dead.

And I’ll be damned if that person is me.

I watch in rapt horror and a minute amount of fascination as Abram slices through the dead creature’s belly and then claws his way up the monster’s throat. He breaks apart the creature’s disfigured jaw, blood coating him from head to toe. His eyes are alight with an almost incandescent rage as he uses the creature’s teeth for handrails. Black ichor dripping from his hair, he jumps to his feet, the monster forgotten.

He’s a sight to behold—there’s not an inch of him that isn’t entirely covered in blood and guts. His crazed, manic eyes fix on me as if he isn’t even aware of anything or anyone else.

Good.

I need to keep his attention off of Hadley.

There is no doubt in my mind that Abram will die today. It’s just a matter of whether or not I die too.

“My boy!” Abram cackles, the sound so unhinged that I instinctively flinch away from it. There’s something about the insanity he embodies that terrifies me. You can usually predict what most people will do. All of their actions have a meticulous purpose, a way to achieve some overall goal.

But not with Abram.

His unpredictability—his sheer fucking insanity—might just be my downfall.

And it sure as hell will be his.

“Abram!” I roar, my fingers squeezing down on the silver handle of my Fate blade. It seems to be an extension of my own hand, a dangerous tool of metal I can use at my disposal. This blade has been trapped in my cell this entire time, though it never did me any good. It’s not as if I could kill myself with it, though I certainly did try.

But Abram? My blade will allow me to slice through his skin. I will relish in the blood staining its surface like a sickly, garnet paint.

When he begins to laugh maniacally again, I lunge forward, blade extended.

“Don’t be upset with me, my dear!” he screams, pulling at his hair. “I did