Page 68 of Soulless Deeds

“Leave,” I whispered, that one word sealing our fate.My fate,as sudden, immense pain punctured my stomach, accompanied by the cool sensation of steel parting flesh. Spencer stared deeply into my eyes, her green orbs relentless in their deliverance as she stabbed deep and true.

Blood seeped from my lips, running down my chin as I faltered to my knees, clutching onto the handle protruding from my abdomen.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Her parting statement penetrated deeper than any blade ever could. Spencer turned on her heel and without a backward glance, walked away, leaving me bleeding out in the hallway.

I coughed, collapsing to the ground, unconsciousness calling me back to where it was safe, where I always wanted to be.

And as the love of my life raced out of our apartment and out of my life, I whispered the one word I was so scared to utter, the one syllable I was so terrified to speak into existence—entirely too late.

“Stay.”

XXVII

Echo

Ishouldered my way into my apartment, the air stagnant, atmosphere dead as if it had been vacant since my most recent departure.

It had been several days since Aster found and carted me out alongside our resident doctor. My wound was stitched, blood replaced, although my pride was healing slower than the rest of my physical wounds—which was exacerbated when I flicked on the lights and found no one home.

I’m alone.

I should have been ecstatic. Instead, I found myself on the threshold of Spencer’s room, stripped bare of all personality and life. Her belongings were gone, items that I was so used to seeing in amongst my own things, empty as if never there to begin with.

My scalp screamed as my fingers pulled at my hair, desperately aware that with her departure she had taken a piece of me with her, unknowing and unwilling, it was too late to claim back.

I collapsed on her bed, the residual of her sweet aroma staining the sheets, taunting me with memory.

All my previous words filtered through my brain. All the times I pushed her away when I could have had it all. Frustrationbuilt in tandem with tiny fragments of guilt that crept in like poison, infecting any reasoning or rationales I’d foolishly told myself.

Camilla. An ever-present thorn from my past, a revenge I refused to relinquish and grudge I would never let go. She was mine to find, to destroy and eviscerate. Despite the resources I had invested into finding her, the bitch still eluded me.She’d better hope she’s dead, otherwise I’ll make her wish she was if I ever get my hands on her.

Although Spencer had the wrong concept, her assessment was accurate. That conniving cunt stole too much from me, the mere phantom of her still continuing to do so, where it was razing my present and sabotaging my future—a future I never considered, and now frantically wanted to save.

As Spencer put so aptly, I was weak, gutless, a fuckingboy. Not a man who was even remotely deserving of claiming a woman as phenomenal as her.

She must have returned to the Temple (wherever the fuck that was), the realisation causing pain to ricochet through my chest. I rubbed over my sternum to lessen the discomfort, yet an ache of hopeless need persisted, refusing to dissipate.

I miss her. I miss everything about her.

There was only one way forward. I had to find Spencer and drag her back. There was no way I was living in that empty shell of a place without her.

It was a high possibility she would stab me on sight—again—the notion causing my cock to harden between my legs.

I didn’t care how many wounds she wanted to inflict. I’d make her listen, hear me out. It was my most valuable ability, after all.

It had been hours. Night had fallen and my feet paved a path into the carpet as Aster continued to deny my calls. As I was about to destroy the fucking phone by throwing it out the window, her voice snapped through the speaker.

“Talk.”

“Are you with her?” I demanded. For some unknown reason, the Kings and Aster had come to an accord, their previous grievances hashed out… Without my input or presence. Which pissed me the fuck off.

Aster paused, no doubt from my disrespectful tone.I don’t give a fuck. Instead of the expected scolding, Aster released a long sigh instead.

“Leave her be, Echo. Give her some breathing space.”

“Who the fuck are you right now? What the fuck have you done with my mistress!?” My scream vibrating down the line. Static was my only reply as Aster remained silent. I didn’t have time for her bullshit. “Are you with her or not?”

Aster hummed in contemplation, and if I could have reached through the phone and choke her, I would have. Then, after ten billion fucking years, she finally answered, just as I was on the verge to really cuss her out.

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