“Not yet it isn’t.” I murmur before I lift both spikes once again, but this time, I come down without mercy aiming for both his eyeballs.
As soon as the spikes enter deeply, the sound that follows is gut-turning—vulgar, wet, and ultimate. It reverberates through me, now living in my bones, forever etched into them.
He slumps to the floor, but I fall with him, my body collapsing on all fours beside him, my hands drenched in his blood. My head hangs low as sobs wrack my body. But it’s not weakness I feel. It’s a surge of emotion so real I can barely hold it together.
Every tear feels like it’s pulling something heavy from deep inside me, something I didn’t even realize was still there. I’m bleeding pain and grief of who I was, finally. And in the midst of that chaotic release, something inside me breaks free, a barrier finally giving way after years of torment.
Blush’s hand slides into the back of my hair as she kneels beside me, her fingers threading through the sweaty strands. She presses her forehead to mine, her presence a strange comfort in the overwhelming moment.
“That’s it, babe. Feel it and let it all out,” she whispers in my ear.
Chapter Seventeen
Wrath
Lying under Aurelia’s bed, I wait for her to walk in, ready to strike at the perfect moment, scare the soul right out of that little body and have my way with it.
The second the door creaks open, I brace myself. She flicks the hallway light on and heads straight for the bedroom, already tugging off her clothes as if I’m not about to crawl out like the boogie man and ruin her.
I watch as she kicks off her boots, the thud of each one hitting the floor. Then comes the dress, gloves, dropping one by one, and that’s when something stops inside me.
Blood. Smeared down the silk fabric, dried in thick strokes over the gloves. My eyes narrow, and I lean forward just a little.
Sniff.
Yeah, that’s fucking blood. Fresh, metallic, but not hers.
What the fuck’s she been doing?
I had my own mess to wade through today, didn’t get the time to stalk her pretty ass like I usually would, but now I wish I had. My stare cuts into the dress as she leaves the room, walking off toward the kitchen.
I hear the bathroom door click shut, and I move, quiet, but fast, pulling myself out from beneath the bed with a new kind of intent.
I reach down for the dress, holding it between two fingers, bringing it up to my face.
Blood. Sweat. Cologne. Male.Not me.
The fuck? She’s been killing men?
My jaw tightens, thoughts spiraling, chest burning like acid. Was it one of those bastards on her phone? One of the names I haven’t unalived yet?
My grip on the fabric tightens, brain glitching as I stare blankly at the pile of her mess on the floor, wondering just how deep her darkness goes.
And why the fuck it turns me on even more. Why it makes my balls tight and my dick painfully hard.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing there before I shake my head once and drop the dress, the fabric whispering as it hits the floor. My boots make no sound as I turn and slip down the hallway like a ghost, the unmistakable sound of running water reaching my ears.
My gloved hand finds the doorknob, and I twist it slowly. The steam hits me like a wall as I peek around the frame, one eye catching the edge of the shower curtain, draped around the tub, trying to shield herself from my gaze. The same way she tries to hide when I watch her through the window sometimes.
I push the door further, just a fraction and the sink catches my attention first. Dark red droplets speckling the surface like she’s washed herself before she got in.
When I enter fully, I notice the sharp knife that lays on the floor close by, ready to defend herself with, along with a bottle of red wine, opened with half a glass full beside it.
I silently stride toward the bathtub before peeking through a small crack in the curtain. My gaze lands on her immediately, lying in the water, headphones placed over her ears, blocking out the world. Her eyes are closed as she tries to relax to the music, a hum coming out every now and then.
My hungry gaze sweeps over her naked body like a pull I can’t stop. The way her perky tits peek out of the water, nipples stiff and bitable. My cock swells in my jeans and my teeth grind as my hand moves to it, squeezing it to suppress the dull ache building.
I shift, moving to the side of the bath before crouching beside her, wanting to be closer. I gently move the curtain aside with my fingers, making myself known, but she’s none the wiser.