Page 36 of Xantera
Take in with my own two eyes what I saw through hers. Place my hands where hers just lied.
But it’s only lust—wanting what I can’t have.
The Guardians have already taken everything from me and my family, and now they have her too. She belongs to me. And it’stheirfaultI can’t see or touch what’s mine.
But rest assured, if she gave me the choice, I’d touch. I’d show her how depraved the world really is—and how pleasurable it can be.
Lucan, she says breathily, likely following the pathways of my corrupted thoughts. I want to fuckingconsumethe way she says my name, her own mind a twist of intrigue and desire that I wish I could wrap up in my fist.
A man has never made her come, I pick out from the tangle of emotions. She’s always had to give herself her own pleasure—always the one to give, never the one to take.
Yet, she wants everything. Knowledge included.
I might not be able to touch her, but I can give her that. I can tell her what really happened five hundred years ago, when the Wall was built and the parasites took their twelve false thrones.
I tip my head up toward the sky from where I slumped down at the sound of her colorful voice, watching as a cloud drifts over the bright crescent moon. Something about her determination and excitement seems to have healed the echoes of pain that were ringing through me afterward. Now, despite the weariness settling into my bones from what that pain did to me, I stay in my monstrous form.
And pray she doesn’t leave me as soon as I utter the words that will turn her into a rebel once and for all.
Do you want to learn the truth about your Guardians?
In the Dark Days, we were all prey for the Monster.”
I was eight years old when my instructor told me that. She painted scenes of spoil and horror, where a terrible beast prowled among men and attacked the easiest prey—children and homeless beggars—while a corrupt figurehead sat idly by, letting his people suffer with pieces of greed glittering around his neck. He had the means to end his people’s agony, and yet he chose to do nothing.
“It was a society heading for disaster,” Miss Dolores said. “Until thirteen holy saviors from another land found us in chaos.”
I remember her describing the Guardians as stronger and faster than regular humans: their skin harder, their teeth sharper, their bones less breakable. They were the only ones who had the physical ability to fight the Monster, and fight him they did.
When our ancestors witnessed the Guardians vanquish what their leader wouldn’t and build the Wall to protect the city for good, they called for a new government. One with thirteen thrones instead of one.
“It was a tragedy when the Thirteenth Guardian perished in the war that followed,” Miss Dolores said, and I remember several of my peers and I hanging our heads to mimic her apparent sorrow. “But it was a war that was necessary. You see, the current leader at the time didn’t want to give up his place in the Blood Moon Palace, so he sent all his remaining loyalists to fight the Guardians.”
“Fight theGuardians?” one of my classmates exclaimed in shock.
“Yes. But nobody can fight the Holy Guardians and win,” Miss Dolores warned. “As is evidenced by the fact that our current Twelve only lost one of their own while the leader at the time losteverything.So the Twelve tossed away his crown and established the superior society we have today, with the Monster forever locked outside of our safety bubble.”
First there was corruption, death, and the Monster. Then there were the Guardians who saved us—with Rules and a uniform society. That’s all I’ve ever known.
Now, I utter the single word that will give me more.
Yes.
Yes, I want to know.
Even if I still can’t fully trust the Monster, I want to learn what he thinks is the truth. I want to hear his perspective from the other side of the Wall.
Lucan sighs, but not as if he’s tired. It sounds like he’s reeling in one long breath to prepare himself. Or me.
The Guardians didn’t come upon a city of chaos, Saskia. They came upon a kingdom of peace—and realized how much they could benefit from controlling and consuming it.
In the mirror still propped up against my wall, I catch sight of my forehead furrowing in confusion.
What do you mean by consuming? They don’t eat us if that’s what you—
No, but theydodrink your blood, right?Lucan’s voice pinches as if such a thing disgusts him.
Only the Chosen Ones,I say quickly, pedaling backward to sit on the edge of my bed.But it doesn’t kill them. It’s supposed to be an honor, to give sustenance to the beings who protect us from… well…
