My fingers clasp together. Tight. “This part… it belongs to Ezekial. Not me. But what he endured in The Divide was worse than anything I ever faced. I do not deserve your sadness. But Ezekial...”
I still can’t look at her. But I don’t have to.
I feel it—the sharp twist in her warmth. Not quite anger, but disappointment. Not at what I said, but at what I believe.
So I return to the only thing I know how to give her. The truth.
“With my father’s immortality, his cruelty only deepened. But something had shifted in me. One look into the light was enough.
“He made me return to The Divide, again and again, to build my tolerance to the realm, strengthen my pain threshold. And every time, I was cruel to the angels.” I bite my tongue. I’ll never forget the things I said, the way I looked at them. “But the more time I spent with them, the more I saw.”
I press my thumb harder into the edge of the ring, and a flicker of heat brushes my hand again.
“They cared for each other, protected each other,lovedeach other. Truly.” My voice lowers. “And they never tried to useme, never even asked for help. It’s almost like they knew I too had no power. And over time, after every visit, after the things I witnessed, I realised something was wrong. With this realm, with the dark. With me.”
And I still believe it.
I feel her warmth blooming, touching more of me. I don’t think she realises what she’s doing, but I selfishly allow it.
“I swapped out the crueller demons when I could. Spoke with my father, tried to understand what he was planning. But by then, his immortality had consumed what little compassion he ever had. He barely acknowledged me anymore.”
I exhale slowly, forcing the building ache back down. “He became obsessed with The Divide, convinced he was a god because he’d made a realm, and he believed he could create a more powerful being next.”
I glance down at my hands, at the ring.
“And whilst I tried to help them in the small ways I could, I was… struggling. I was becoming older. My body was changing. And the women became… possessive, greedy, insatiable. They knew that soon, my age would no longer be seen as taboo—”
“Kane.”
“—That carrying my child would open unlimited doors.”
“I can’t—Kane—” Her voice splinters, and a gut-wrenching sound escapes instead.
I can no longer refuse myself, can no longer ignore her sounds or the breath strangled around my name.
I look up.
Hearing her cries is one thing, but seeing her cry... I stare at her, transfixed upon the silver lines tracking her flushed cheeks that she hastily wipes away.
Even now, she is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.
And I cannot have her.
“But I was stronger now. My darkness had grown. I’d seen light. I’d seen what love could be.” I glance at the sliver of shadow curling along my wrist. “This time, when one of the women came for me, I killed her.”
Jasmine’s eyes never leave mine, unknowingly grounding me as pieces of the memory pierce through.
“Come here, Kane. I just want to make you feel good…”
“She was the first,” I say quietly, staring hard at the darkness shivering across my knuckles. “One of the worst.”
“This is for you, Kane. Shh, don’t cry, there’s no need to cry…”
I try to push the memory back, but all I see is her on her knees, vile face leering up at me—
“No? Oh Kane, you think anyone else would ever touch you like this?” she laughs. “Everyone else is scared of you. Yes, yes they are. That’s why you have no friends, that’s why you’re always alone, because no one else cares, no one gives a shit about you, not even your daddy cares. He does? Well, where is he now, Kane? Hmm? Where’s your daddy? Exactly. Because daddy doesn’t love you, no one loves you, no one will ever love a pathetic, weak, little boy like—”
“I snapped.” A shadow curls around my fist, cutting the memory away and replacing it with burning red. “My darkness wrapped around her throat and I kept squeezing and squeezing. Even when she begged me to stop. Even when blood poured from her eyes. Even when the bones cracked.”
