Page 73 of Alamort

I nod. Even though I can’t pick out any real characteristics about him. This is the real him. He’s not hiding in the shadows. I can physically see him, touch him, feel him. And that’s enough. It has to be.

“Why?”

“Why not?” I retort.

With a firm grip, hands swiftly twirl me around before firmly pressing me into the heart of the mirror. Clearly done with that conversation.

“Bend over.”

“No. I have questions.” They don’t matter. I’m just buying myself time with him before my night is over.

“So do I. I’ll start. Why were you crying?”

I shrug. Choosing not to answer the question is more convenient than facing self-loathing once again. That is until he tugs on my ponytails, my head still sore from Bennett.

“Ow.” His hands wrap around my hair twice before tugging again. I’m unsure how he feels about the 5th amendment, but I remain silent. Instead, I bend over and use my hands to maintain a distance between myself and the mirror. Releasing my hair, he takes a step back and kicks my legs further apart with his boot, putting a strain on my calves. I watch with bated breath as his painted hand starts at the ankle of my boots, lazily trailing upwards. I suck in a breath the second his hand contactsmy bare skin. Squatting down, he flips the skirt up and positions himself at my hip level. I observe his every move as he reaches into the hoodie pocket, revealing a black sharp knife shaped like a ‘T’ with a gleaming blade.

With rapt attention, I watch him trace the cuts he made with reverence. The cold, metallic blade glides along my inner thigh, causing me to involuntarily squeeze my legs together, resulting in an unintended cut. With a huff, he delivers a sharp slap to my inner thigh, causing a shooting pain that forces a hiss to escape my lips.

“Don’t move.” He moves his head between my legs. In the mirror, his piercing gaze locks with mine, while his skilled tongue explores the sensitive area behind my knee, soothing the worst of the sting. He hums and his eyes shut, sucking until it’s numb. I’m sweating. Is it hot in here?

“Fuck, you’re so sweet.”

I gulp. What do I say? Thank you? The knife’s point goes directly below the ‘A’. The first line is horizontal. It matches the ones I make on myself. Shutting my eyes, I savor the pain caused by the kiss of the blade. The knife comes to an immediate stop, remaining motionless at its last position before making an unexpected vertical turn.

“You’re exquisite.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter to drown out his lies and savor the moment. “I believe we were made for each other, that I’ve spent my entire life searching for someone who completes me. One who understands me, who could accept me. I’ve walked this life alone, content. Searching for relief in others’ pain, just to find you.”

There’s nothing more I want than to believe him. Instead of responding, I choose to embrace the pain, sinking further into its depths to silence him.

“There are no words to describe the power you hold over me. Timent Veritatem,” he says, “It means ‘They fear the truth’.”

When he halts, a fiery sensation fills the void where the blade once was, causing me to spin around and gaze at him with wide-open eyes.

Shadow’s brow creases. I assume it’s because I didn’t allow him to finish his normal routine. There is still a lifelessness in his eyes. How freeing would it be to live a life where I didn’t have to feel?

Crimson blood trickles down my leg, saturating the ebony lace of my stockings. I fixate on his face to hold back tears as I lower my hand to the freshly carved letter. I gather as much of the blood on my hand as I can before smearing it onto the drawn teeth of the skull. The taste of me on my fingers makes him groan as his tongue wraps around them, a warm drop of blood sliding down his chin.

The firm grip of his hand on the back of my knee guides my leg up and over his hip. I’m not surprised when he grinds his erection into me. Memories of the shower flood my mind, and I realize what truly aroused him - not pain, but blood. I lean in and lick the warm, coppery taste of my blood from his chin, taken aback by the involuntary sigh that slips from my mouth.

It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it’s lacking the “sweetness” he claimed it had.

“I-I want you to be my first.” I wet my lips, staring at his, a fluttering in my chest takes flight. His smile is blinding in the red light. A warn feeling buzzes through my chest knowing I’ve pleased him. Even if the smile is rehearsed, he still put it on for me. I was worthy enough.

“Priya?” A soft feminine voice calls out.

Priya freezes in my arms, her breath hitching before she pushes herself away from my chest, hastily smoothing down her skirt to conceal the fresh addition of my name. Everything I had been working for was within my grasp. Tonight was the turning point. She would have no choice but to embrace the idea of me.

“Priya?” River’s voice grates on my nerves, disturbing our bubble of contentment. She’s far enough away that we still have time.

“Stay with me.” I tell her. Priya glances up at me with her doe eyes. The faint smattering of freckles on her face seemed to blend into the reddish hue of the light. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth. I can’t fathom a reason she wouldn’t immediately respond with an enthusiastic “Yes”. When I pull her lip free from the abuse she’s inflicting, my brows crinkle in concern.

“There’s nothing or no one who could keep me away from you, Priya. Not even you.”

“Priya?”

Always lurking around the corner. I wouldn’t put it past her to have waited for the perfect opportunity to intervene. Riverhas always been adept at manipulation, effortlessly playing the innocent card even when the evidence is stacked against her. I don’t buy that coy act she puts on, having everyone wrapped around her finger.

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