Page 92 of Claimed In Darkness

A stupid, fucking weak part. A part I want to rip out of my own chest.

Aereth is not the enemy.

The enemy is him.

But the man culprit is me. For ever thinking I was different.

For ever thinking there’s something more between us.

His posture shifts.

The tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in his grip, the way he doesn’t fully respond to Aereth’s touch.

Because he’s aware that I’m pulling away.

He knows this is different. That I’m not snarling, not snapping, not fighting back.

That terrifies him more than anything else because I have always fought back.

Even when he poisoned me.

Even when heused and took me.

But now,I am done playing his game.

The power inside me flickers, a pulse of dark heat curling in my veins.

It is silent. But it is not asleep.

This thing is watching and waiting for the perfect timing to make havoc.

And I can’t help but wonder?—

What would happen if I let it consume me?

What if I stopped fighting, if I let the hunger take over, if I let this thing inside me become something more?

Would it make me strong enough to crush them both?

Will this make me strong enough to never feel this way again?

I swallow hard, digging my nails into my palms.

No. Probably not here.

There’s this shift in the air, in the world.

Something is coming. It’s way worse than the ache in my heart.

And when it comes?—

I will not be the one left bleeding.

The night stretches too long, the road ahead winding through unfamiliar territory.

We set up camp in a clearing near the river, torches casting flickering gold along the rough-hewn stones.

I stay away.

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