Page 50 of Blood So Brutal

I bit my tongue. Of course, he sends us here. He couldn't give a shit if we lived or died. All he cared about was the fact that we would get the job done.

“He trusts us,” Jessiah said, always the fucking kiss ass. “And he knows we’re strong enough to defend ourselves if anything happens.”

“Still,” she argued. “He doesn’t even send Luseyar to help in case there’s an attack? It’s reckless.”

“As reckless as being sent to Moira?” I asked, voice suddenly dripping in a bitterness I wasn’t expecting.

She spun to face me, eyes sharp. “Excuse me?”

“I’m going to leave you two to figure out whatever this is. Come on, Abigail. I’ll show you the super cool room you’ll be staying in tonight.” Jessiah led a very exhausted Abigail into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door behind them before Huntyr let out another breath.

“You have no right to say things like that. You have no idea why I was sent to Moira.”

“But do you?” Wolf pressed. “Is it any different than why we were sent here? Was Lord any different than?—”

“Yes,” she spat. “Lord loved me. He actually cared about my wellbeing.”

I rolled my eyes and turned away from her. She was still so brainwashed, so naive. She actually thought a man who hurt her like that could love her.

That was not love.

The hatred that washed over me was a result from picturing those scars on her back, from picturing how they got there.

“Stop that,” she said.

“I can’t.” I couldn’t close the bond all the way, couldn’t keep out that anger and hatred.

“He took care of me, Wolf.” Her voice was softer now, and I felt her approaching from behind me. “He saved my life.”

“He hurt you.”

A thick pause.

“So did you.”

I spun to face her, finding her staring at me through those long black lashes. “Huntress…”

“Don’t apologize again. Don’t say anything.” She held her hand out, almost reaching for me, before dropping it. “Just don’t ever let me get close to you like that again.”

I wasn’t expecting the words, and they hit me hard, cracking my chest open. “But I want you close,” I admitted. “I want you closer than ever.”

Her jaw tightened. She lowered her eyes and retreated. “I can’t protect myself and love you at the same time. Not again. Not after everything.”

“Then don’t.” I stepped forward, reaching for her. “Don’t give me your love, Huntress. Give me anything. Give me the tiniest fucking piece of you. Give me the shreds, all the pieces you hate,I don’t care. I’ll take anything you give me, and it will always be enough.”

Her eyes glazed over. “I already gave too much.”

Huntyr slept in the second bedroom, Abigail in the first. Jessiah passed out for a couple hours on the couch, his massive white wings barely fitting, before waking up.

“Hells, brother,” he groaned, pushing himself to a sitting position. “You’re sitting there watching me sleep? That’s creepy, even for you.”

I threw an apple at him, huffing when he caught it instead of letting it plummet onto his chest like I intended. “I can’t sleep here. I never can. You know that.”

He nodded, taking a bite of the apple and falling into silence with me.

Jessiah and I came here for the first time as children, right after the war that ended Scarlata. Back then, The Golden City was still good, still elite, still upholding its values and protecting the people inside.

That’s what they said, anyway. That’s what they told everyone on the outside. Buttheywere the ones creating the mass fear against the vampyres. They were the ones spreading the rumors that vampyres were monsters, unable to control their thirst.

---