Page 119 of Wrath

“You don’t have any reason to feel guilty,” Z said fiercely. “I would’ve done the same thing. You can’t?—”

“That’s not what I feel guilty about,” I confessed. A fist full of razor blades lodged in my throat. “I know they deserved it. But…”

“But?” Z prompted.

“When I returned home to the capital, bloody and disfigured, days later, the shifter king was the one who saw me. He led me straight to the throne room, where the other kings were meeting. They asked me what happened, and I was too ashamed to admit the truth. Too prideful.” I squeezed my hand into a fist. “How could I confess that I’d allowed a pretty girl to deceive me? That I was tortured for over a day because of it? God, looking back at it, I was such an idiot, but I did the only thing I could think of—I lied.”

Z blinked at me. “You…lied?”

“I told them that I was attacked by humans while walking through town. That they took me by surprise.” I threw my head back in laughter, the noise devoid of any true humor. “I honestly don’t know why I didn’t tell them the truth. I guess I was just too prideful, too terrified of what they would do if they knew about what I perceived as my biggest failure.

“So that night, the kings sent their guards to the town that I claimed I was attacked in.” I couldn’t breathe past the tightening in my throat. Couldn’t hear past the ringing in my ears. Couldn’t think past the screaming in my head. “The guards killed every person in town. Over two thousand humans. Dead. Because of me. Because I lied. Because I allowed my pride to control me instead of simply confessing the truth.”

I stared at Z unflinchingly, wanting to see the exact moment she fell out of love with me, the exact second she condemned me. “So you see, I’m not like your other mates, Z. I truly am a monster.”

FORTY

Z

My heart didn’t just break for Ryland. It…shattered. How long had he been holding on to all of that guilt? That blame? I could see it clear as day, now that I knew what to look for, etched across every line of his beautiful face.

The shadows at his feet twitched as if in response to his mounting agitation.

“So is that it, then?” Ryland’s lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “Did I lose you?”

“Does it look like you lost me?” I snapped.

Ryland shrugged, his focus shifting to the bands around his wrists. “Kind of hard to run when you’re tied up.”

“I wouldn’t run. Ever.”

He looked up at me then, and whatever he saw on my face made his shoulders slump, his posture droop like a wilted flower.

“How can you not think I’m a monster?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Because I know who you are, Ryland, and I know that you would never intentionally harm innocent people. You’re a goodman who endured shit that no one should ever have to endure.” I curled my hand around the armrest, my fingers digging into the scratchy wood. “That bitch is lucky she’s already dead, or else I would kill her myself.”

“I don’t even know why I lied,” Ryland continued, and a single tear tracked down his skin, directly over the mottled pink and red scars. I found myself fixated on that minuscule water droplet. “The kings would’ve been proud of me if I confessed the truth—that I killed our enemies and escaped. But…”

“You panicked. You were just a kid, Ry.”

“I was sixteen. Old enough to know right from wrong.”

Another piece of my heart chipped away. “You can’t change the past, Ry. Do you know how many times I think about the nightmares I killed before I realized they’re not all bad?” I barked out a harsh laugh. “I did horrible things too, all in the name of justice. I wanted to avenge my family and my boyfriend and everyone else who had been hurt. But how many of those nightmares were innocent people just trying to live their lives? How many of them actually deserved to die?”

This question had haunted me far longer than I’d ever wanted to admit. I was just…too prideful to ask it out loud. A part of me feared my mates would look at me differently if I ever articulated my biggest fear.

They considered themselves monsters.

But I might just be the biggest one of them all.

Red coated my hands from all of the people I’d killed, and no amount of scrubbing could wash away the stain.

“Z…” Ryland tugged at the straps containing him, but they remained firm, not allowing any wiggle room.

“Before I joined the Alphabet Resistance, I thought all nightmares were evil. And then I joined, and I thought only the majority of them were. But now?” I shook my head and ducked my eyes. “I know differently. Yes, there are a lot of badnightmares out there, but there are also some amazing ones. I didn’t see that before.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Ryland rasped, once again pulling at the shackles.

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