Page 84 of Tempted By Poison

Victor.

My lips part and goosebumps pile all over. Victor is there, stripped of his clothes, bound above the ground between two thick barren trees. His hands and legs are bound by ropes, stretching his body out.

Ronan places his hand on my lower back and the students part in union for us to go through.

Mal turns with that wicked grin of hers. “You made it, Cinderella.”

No words come through. I’m fully stunned. I switch from Ronan, to Mal, to Boone—who stands off to the side with his hands clasped in front of him—then back to Ronan. I grip his elbow, and he gazes down at me with this look of satisfaction, like he’s waiting for my approval. “You brought him here. Why?”

The wind blows over his loose strands, a few landing over his eye. “For you, my little snake. For us. We were meant to do this together.”

More flutters arrange in my belly, and I catch my breath from his ‘gift.’ It’s nothing like I expected and means more to me than anything. I look back at Victor, who’s struggling with the angle of his body in the air like that. He hocks up blood, and it spills to his chest, dripping onto the earth. His body is black and blue, both eyes nearly shut, probably from Ronan’s abuse. A gaping hole in his knee that matches the color of his bruises. “Please,” he attempts to beg.

Ronan tilts his head, and I flick my gaze back to him. Menace forms in his features, the look I have seen the day we tortured Fred, flashes dangerously before me. “Tell me how you want it, Venom,” he coos.

He’s going to kill him in front of everyone. And he wants me to conduct the torture.

A shiver runs up my spine, and I cock my chin. “I believe he’s missing something,” I say. “Slice his chest and don't miss a spot. Then slit his throat.” I glower at the man who took my brother from me, who's scarred Ronan, the man that ruined lives and continued to traumatize them. He got off on lowering the minds of others and killing them from the inside out. Now it's his turn, and I will show no mercy.

Ronan’s eyes gleam mischievously, and he reaches in his back pocket to retrieve something. My eyes spread as my dagger dangles in his palm like it was meant for him. The light from the moon and stars hits the metal, sparking a shine off it like diamonds.

“I took it on the way out.” He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, watching me with this dark stare, then steps back and makes his way to Victor.

Victor wobbles, his head falling back then forward. He notices Ronan’s dark figure and his eyes widen like wings. Terror etching over his ugly features. “Wait. Wait, wait,” he gurgles. “I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

“It's a little too late for that,” Mal sings, placing her hands on her waist.

Ronan stands in the middle, examining everyone before him, his head held high, shoulders strong and dominating. “Tonight is the night where this kind of evil will never walk this earth again. This is not only an ending for me, but for her.” He direct Victor’s gaze at me. “But for you.” He points at the young person whose face is covered by the hoodie. “And you.” He points to another. “And you. For all of you. No Mercy.”

“No mercy,” they chorus in an eerie tune.

Tingles and more shivers roam over my nerves. Ronan faces back to Victor as he tries once more to plead his case, but he snatches Victor's jaw, smashing it in, then he proceeds to slice him from the lips and down to his chest. I watch in amazement as Ronan digs my blade into the monster's chest, carving him like a craftsman. Shiny red crimson spills from his chest and rims the ground with his toxic blood. It's beautiful and so sick.

Ronan doesn't stop even when Victor’s excruciating screams pour into the air, signaling to the silent world of his suffering.No onewill come for him;nobodywill save him from what is meant to be. This was manifested, it wasalwaysgoing to end this way.

I stroll slowly to the mess, my boots crunching on the branches and cracked leaves. Up close Victor looks even worse, his exhausted eyes only pleading because he knows he’s going to die. I don’t give a shit.

“Leave your mark.” Ronan places my dagger in my hand, and he guides it up to Victor's stenciled chest. There’s no place for another mark, but Ronan makes sure it is. He moves my hand along the wounds and creates the letter V.

He lowers my hand, and a smile switches on the side of my lip.Every one of them will get my mark.

I’m even more surprised when Ronan digs the letter P beside it.

Ourmarks.

If there were room and time, I would carve every last name on his body of whom he’s taken, whose life he’s destroyed.

I move away and swiftly; Ronan swipes his hand across Victor's neck, slitting his throat. For a second, Ronan doesn’t move, he only watches as Victor chokes on his own death, as if he’s watching the blood drip from him.

Satisfied, he steps back, red liquid dripping down his hand, his broad shoulders rising and falling in heavy puffs.

Victor cries in thick coughs, his eyes rolling back, his pain is evident. A student, almost as tall as Ronan, comes forward with a red gasoline tank and matches, handing it to Ronan before walking back to his spot.

Ronan looks over his shoulder at me and I nod. Burn him alive. I don't need to say it, he understands the task. It's what we promised each other. He covers Victor in gasoline. Then, he lights a match; without another word, he steps back and flings the stick at Victor. It took no time for his body to engulf in flames, a scorching blaze as if the universe were sick of him, too. The fire roars along with Victor's death cries. There are so many mixed emotions, anger, relief, and so much satisfaction.

Most of all, grief. Not for Victor, but for Carter. It’s the kind of grieving I’ve always needed; one I was never able to have. How can you grieve when your father required you to be strong? Here, right now, I can finally have my moment. Our moment.Finally.

Ronan comes to my side, and we look at each other, the heat blasting on us, mixing with the cold air.

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