Page 74 of Dominion

I wished my brain would’ve done the same thing.

Maybe then I would’ve been able to move on from certain things and never think about them again. But I remembered every single thing that had happened to me. I remembered the night my parents died. I remembered the fire and the smell of burning flesh.

I remembered the pain, the anguish, the anger, and every single word spoken by Neal as he tried to train me, mold me, and turn me into the perfect soldier.

I remembered the smell of blood after the man who was close to the Order fell to the ground, the crimson spreading, staining the plush white carpet he had in his apartment. I remembered the fear on Sebastian’s face when I came home that day covered in blood and the proud gleam in Neal’s eyes as he told me I did well.

I didn’t dowell.

He was turning me into a monster just to destroy another monster and I was too young to understand what was happening around me. I was too young to recognize that it wasn’t love he was showering me with—it was control.

I thought that all those memories would’ve prepared me for anything in my life. I thought I wouldn’t even flinch when I saw what other people were capable of, because I met monsters when I was just a child, and I wasn’t a stranger to macabre and depraved minds.

Yet nothing could’ve prepared me for when I saw the plans and photos in that fucking warehouse we raided. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the nausea that slammed into me when I saw photos of children in the manila file, with their stats, as if they were animals and not humans. As if they existed for our pleasure.

Empty eyes and hollow cheeks, that’s what I saw as I went through the photos, and I immediately knew that the Red Manor wasn’t the only place Judah had control of. I felt powerless, angry, because I couldn’t help them all. There was nothing I could do to turn those frowns into smiles, and it bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

What bothered me even more was the fact that we didn’t catch the monsters.

Belladonna and Judah had left before we got there, and Dylan was nowhere to be seen. I felt like a failure all over again, and I had no idea how I was going to look Skylar in the eyes and not break apart. She could see through me, I knew she could. I also knew that no matter how much I tried to hide everything that bothered me, she sensed it on a level I couldn’t understand.

I hated leaving her behind and only coming back a day later, but seeing Ophelia and Storm there wasn’t something I expected last night. I also didn’t expect Casimir to start hashing out theplans for the Alliance or whatever the fuck he called it, or to be pulled outside by Ophelia Aster, only for her to apologize for what happened back in Emercroft Lake when she helped Skylar to get out.

I wanted to blame her, I really, really did, but I knew that we all made our own choices. Ophelia was just there to help Sky when she needed her, when we couldn’t see that she wanted to do more. I was trying to forgive the people who did nothing to put us in this predicament and hearing her heartfelt apology felt good.

After the terrible night, it felt good to speak to someone who could understand what we were going through.

But throughout that entire dinner, I tuned them all out, not listening to the conversation, because all I wanted to do was to go back home, back to Skylar. It was a soul-deep ache that spread through my body, knowing that she was all alone there. I wanted to call her, but I didn’t want to wake her up at one in the morning only to tell her that we didn’t find them.

I wanted to tell her everything we figured out once I saw her in person. Once I could read her emotions, and not before. So when Casimir announced that we were leaving, I practically jumped up and started heading toward the car with the rest of them in tow.

Cillian stayed with Ophelia, apologizing for not going back with us, but I understood better than he knew. He helped more than most of the other people in our lives, and I would forever be grateful for having him during this time.

The moment we stopped in front of the house, I was out of the car as if a thousand hellhounds were at my tail, chasing after me.

The floor creaked with every step I took, making it seem much louder in the otherwise quiet house. It was still only eight in the morning, but I was surprised that neither Sebastian norSkylar were in the dining room for breakfast. She was usually an early riser, pulling me out of the bed.

I went through the short hallway, stopping immediately as soon as I saw the figure lying on the couch in the living room, clutching that goddamn book to her chest.

Skylar’s blond hair was spread over the pillows, her angelic face looking peaceful for the first time in forever, and the vise-like grip around my heart only tightened, pushing me to go to her.

My legs ate the distance between the two of us, my knees giving out the moment I stepped in front of her, making me fall, only for my hands to reach out toward the book, taking it out of her embrace. Her eyelashes fluttered against her porcelain skin, and without a second thought, I ran my forefinger over her cheek, smiling when she started nuzzling her cheek against my hand, making me open my palm.

Her eyes opened wide, that soft smile I lived for, taking over her face. For those few moments, everything was okay in my world. Everything felt perfect regardless of the ugliness of the outside world.

“You’re back,” she murmured, placing her palm over my hand that was still on her cheek. “You’re really back.”

My heart clenched painfully at the pure surprise in her words, as if she truly believed that I wouldn’t be back.

“I’m back.” I nodded. “I told you I would be.”

“I know, but still. You never know what could happen.” She had a point, but I knew that the only thing that could ever separate me from her was death itself, and even then, I would find her in the next life, and the next one, and the next one, until the end of times. There was no me without her.

Leaning down, I pressed my lips to her forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before moving my head to her chest.

“I’m so tired,” I whispered, hearing the footsteps from the front door. “I just want to sleep for five days straight.”

“Me too,” she answered, running her hand through my hair. “I was worried sick,” she admitted a few seconds later. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came down here.” Her dainty fingers ran over my scalp, soothing the wounds on my soul even without trying. “What happened last night?” she asked, making me open my eyes again. “Ash?”

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