Page 120 of Claimed In Darkness

And if I am not the first?—

Then what the fuck happened to the others?

Zephiran moves before I can. His blade is at the old man’s throat in a blink.

Fast.

Effortless.

Deadly.

A warning.

"She is not yours to take."

The words come out sharp, guttural, full of something I am too tired to name.

Something that sounds too close to desperation.

The man does not flinch.

Does not even look at him.

His gaze stays locked on me.

And when he speaks again, it is not for Zephiran.

It is for me.

"You are running out of time."

I let him live.

I should slit his throat, should watch him choke on his own blood, should cut down every single one of these men and send a message that I do not fucking belong to anyone.

But I don’t.

He is right.

I am running out of time.

And I’m clueless as to what will happen when the clock stops.

So instead—I let him walk away.

I let them all walk away because I need answers.

And killing him will not give me them.

Not until I understand.

Not until I know what I am becoming.

If they are right?—

Then I am not just a monster anymore.

I am something worse.

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