Nothing but him.
I told myself it wasn’t the same woman. It couldn’t be her. She had escaped. Not with her dignity, but she survived my assault.
But the longer I looked at the gruesome smile on her face, the more I remembered the curve of her jaw, the slope ofher cheekbones, and the blonde hair spilling wild around her shoulders that night I held her against the tree.
It was her.
I pressed my eyes shut. The memory came hard and fast, her mouth against mine, my teeth scraping her lips, her screams spilling out into the dark.
How I’d fucked her, hard and fast.
Her denials meant nothing.
I’d given her my reckless abandon, my furious hunger, and cold cruelty. I was stupid enough to believe the woods were quiet. That the moment I stole from her would disappear with her escape.
She was alive. And now she was dead.
Was it my fault?
The questions gnawed at me as she lay there, turned into a sick message just for me.
Yes. Her life ending was my fault, because her death was a message for me.
My chest heaved as the grief for the stranger tangled with something deeper. Rage. Not just at whoever did this, but at myself. At every goddamn choice that led me here…to her broken body.
I closed my eyes, dragging my hands over my face, smearing the dirt, blood, and sweat.
The smile stared back at me even through my eyelids. I was unable to shake it from my thoughts.
I couldn’t handle this, not now. Not when I was already so close to snapping.
And then Xanthy’s face cut in, uninvited.
Her smile, the soft, warm, real glow…
The one who looked at me like I was worth something, worth saving.
I hated it. I hated that I could see her face in the shadow of this one. I hated the thought of walking her into that wedding, standing beside her while people whispered vows and forever. It all felt like another kind of death.
One I couldn’t escape.
How could I promise her anything when her forever decayed in front of me, grinning like a damned fool with cut lips?
This was Xanthy’s future with me.
A branch snapped in the distance.
I froze.
My head jerked up, my breath held tight in my chest. But the forest was silent again. My skin prickled with the certainty that I wasn’t alone anymore.
I scanned the treeline. The shadows thickened under the branches, long and still, but no movement was detected.
“Who’s there?” My voice came out hoarse, cracked, because I was carrying far more than I wanted.
Nothing.
Just the weight of the trees leaning closer, like they were listening.
