Page 191 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“I’m going back to sleep. You can try to save my life in the morning.” I close my eyes, but I have no intention of going to sleep.

Not only are the dreams not dreams, I’m exactly the monster I thought I was within them. I swore to never become that, but how many people have I killed in these months?

My mom knows me, better than anyone. And she never wanted me. Did she ever love me? Was it all just an act, what Freyr said? If you can’t love her, find a way to give her love.

I see her eyes, looking at me and full of malice.

But she took those memories from me. They were accidents, I swear it. If she hadn’t made me forget, then I could’ve learned. I could be in control.

This is her fault. I see it now. I learned to fear being seen because of her. I learned to fear my magic, because of her. I killed a countless number of people, because of her.

And I think I’m only going to do it all again because it’s the only way I know how to survive now.

But if Bernice was right, if I am a monster, then she made me one.

* * *

I realized I loved Bernice and Nova moments before they died, and I didn’t remember them until yesterday.

I didn’t remember them, but I could never forget the wave that washed over me when Nova looked at me, begging me to stop it. The sword that crashed into me when Bernice looked at me and spoke those words.

You’re a monster.

I believed them instantly.

I didn’t know what love was, but I could feel it turning sour when Bernice screamed. I could taste it growing pungent when he fell.

I could smell it growing rotten in his burning flesh.

I learned what love was in death, and I didn’t remember it until yesterday.

* * *

I guess I did sleep, because when I open my eyes again the sun is out and Lucian is gone. I’m trying to get you out of here alive. Yeah, whatever. I’m just glad I still have my knives on me. I’ll get out alone, without anyone’s help, and I’ll kill anyone who stands in the way of my life.

I don’t need them. Not even Lucian.

To my surprise, the door to the room is only locked from the inside, and I slip out with one of my knives blades already clasped between my thumb and index finger. I keep my head down and conceal my eyes as members of the kingdom pass me in the hall.

There seems to be an abundance of guards around me. Some soldiers too. I wonder if Lucian was right—could all these people be here to kill me? I have to assume they are, there is no benefit of the doubt in such severe cases as my life.

The entire wall to my left is doors and everything to my right is glass, which isn’t doing me any favors, because light is exactly what I’d like to avoid. I can’t afford to be recognized, and I also don’t know my way around this kingdom, which means I’ll be fiddling around until I find the exit.

I seem to catch the eye of a guard, so I duck my head lower but it doesn’t stop him. He’s walking to me, closer, closer.

My knife slides into his throat from only three steps away. Every pair of eyes in the room falls to him, then they slip to me. Noblemen and women, dressed in soft blue fabrics and bodices. Guards with their swords, soldiers with their bows and blades.

I pull my knife from the guard’s throat and run for my life, knowing that more murder lies ahead of me. But that’s what I’m good for, isn’t it? I can’t think of anything else I’ve accomplished in my life. I murdered animals for food and people for life. I mean, I couldn’t even find my mom with all this power. I could only kill.

And she doesn’t seem to think anything more of me than that either.

So when both my wrists are restricted and pulled behind my back so tightly that my spine cracks with the lash and I fall to my knees, I don’t hold back one bit. My hands might be restricted, but my power never will be, and my eyes are on fire.

I can’t even count the number of people I’ve killed anymore, not with all those memories that flooded back to me. And I didn’t even have to touch one of those Folk.

Guards approach me from the front while I’m sure there are more at my back. Shadows wrap around me, freezing into my core, but I don’t mind the cold. First, one falls, and if I had to bet, I’d say their eyes are on fire like Bernice’s. I think of what that felt like before I understood what it meant. The pulling of the muscles from a place deeper than I can fathom.

Three more go down.

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