Page 20 of Sins of Winter

His words were a paradox, a cold comfort that failed to ease the panic seizing my every nerve. “What the fuck does that mean?” I spat out, fear lacing my voice with an edge. “Let me go!”

He remained unmoved, his weight a constant pressure. “I can't do that,” he said, almost apologetically.

“Don't you remember what I told you the last time we were alone? Did you read my note? Did you understand my gift?”

His questions spiraled around me, each one punctuated by the reality of my helplessness. The note, the promise as he’d held me, the gruesome 'gift'—they were all pieces of a puzzle I was still scrambling to assemble. There was a narrative he had crafted with meticulous care.

“What promise do you want from me?”

“All of them,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. “But there's one in particular...” Trailing off, he shifted, leaning over me with a predator's grace. His fingers found my hand, turning it palm-side up to reveal the faded scar from our childhood oath.

A hollow laugh escaped me, tinged with disbelief. “You can't be serious.”

“Did you ever wonder why,” he pressed down, his touch light but insistent, “I cut you deep enough to leave a mark?”

“This …this can't be real,” I whispered, the absurdity of it all threatening to overwhelm me.

“It is real,” he assured me, a hint of something indefinable in his voice. “More than you know. All you need to do is make a choice—the correct one—and we can put this night behind us.”

His words, instead of offering solace, ignited a spark of anger within me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the reality of my situation—the betrayal, the fear—washing over me.

He must have felt the change in me because he softened, his hand moving to cradle the back of my neck. “Seeing you like this…it tears me apart,” he murmured, his voice closer now, his breath warm against my skin. “It makes me want to destroy whoever is responsible. Since I can’t tear myself apart, I’ll have to find another outlet.”

It was clear to me that he only saw one path forward, one resolution, where my choices weren’t truly my own.

“What about Mara?” The question tumbled out, laced with concern. I couldn't bring myself to inquire about Liam. If this was him calm, that would likely push him completely over the edge.

He paused, a momentary silence that was heavy with unspoken thoughts. “She might still be alive,” he finally answered, his tone measured. “It depends.”

The ambiguity of his words was like a weight in my stomach. Before I could press further, he shifted the conversation back to the words I’d heard on almost every call, repeating them as if they were a mantra between us. They twisted in my mind, an enigma I couldn't grasp.

“I don't understand,” I admitted, frustration bleeding into my words.

“You do,” he insisted gently. “Think hard, Winter. We've been here before.” His prompt sent me spiraling back through memories, searching for a conversation lost in the haze of our shared past.

And there it was, a moment from years ago, a conversation steeped in what I had assumed was mere childhood fantasy.

“What happens if I do what you want?” I asked, the reflection now vivid in my mind's eye.

His response came back cheerfully, disarmingly so. “Then we go home.”

“Home?” The word felt foreign on my tongue.

“Yes, home. I know you’ll be happy there,” he said with conviction. “You'll come with me, to the world I've embraced.”

“And if I don't?” My voice was small, almost lost beneath the weight of his expectations.

His laughter, a sound I would normally find comforting, now sent shivers down my spine. “Then I'll take you, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Being without you isn't an option anymore, Winter. I can't function; I can't think. Watching you through a lens and from a distance—it's not enough. I'm too fucking obsessed with you. I need you.”

The declaration was raw, intense, and unequivocal. It left no room for doubt, no space for me to question the depth of his confession. In his world, in his mind, we were inextricably linked—a bond forged in darkness and sealed with blood. Whether I liked it or not, it was a bond he intended to honor until the very end.

“So, I don’t really have a choice.”

“Of course you do.” He stroked my head and gently eased back, allowing me the space to turn around but keeping me trapped between his solid body and the table.

“If you choose not to do this, I'll fulfill your part for you. It’s no big deal for me, but Mara's blood will be on your hands.” His words were sharp, a blade poised at the heart of our dilemma.

“You’re going to use my best friend against me?”

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