Kai turns, sharp. Confused. “What?”
And then he sees them coming.
His eyes go wide. Not afraid. Just… betrayed. Like he can’t believe it. Like he doesn’twantto.
“Don’t you f—” he starts, but the guards are already on him.
Lilia gasps beside me.
Two of them grab his arms. The third shoves his shoulder down until Kai is on his knees, his back facing all of us. He thrashes once, violently, but he can’t get free. He’s strong. But they’re stronger.
And then Gabriel walks up to him slowly, like he’s afraid of what he’s about to do. Of what he already knows.
And then he rips the shirt the rest of the way.
There’s a moment of total silence.
Because there, inked into the skin of Kai’s back, is a tattoo.
A beautiful tattoo.
It’s intricate, and not at all what I expect. It’s composed of patterns, and elegant lines that curl and fold into each other like smoke. Like music. Like a dream. Like—
Christian makes a choking noise from somewhere across the room, and vomits into a bin.
Across the room, Will’s face twists into something I can only describe as disgust. Liam stumbles back and doubles over, gagging.
I hear Berlin cry out, too. And Paris tries to run forward, but Berlin throws an arm out, stopping her.
And suddenly, the room is filled with gasps. With stifled cries. With horror.
But all I feel is confusion.
Because I still don’t understand.
It’s art.
What the hell am I missing?
Lilia grabs my shoulder, gasping. “Addie it’s—” but she doesn’t get a chance to finish, because she’s vomiting all over the marble floor.
I blink. Stare harder.
It takes a second. Two.
Then it begins to change.
The ink. The lines. The beauty I thought I saw unravels before my eyes. Because those aren’t tattoos, I realize.
They’reburns.
Scars, carved deep into his flesh and seared until they healed and turned into…that.
And the patterns? They aren’t patterns at all.
They’re faces.
Some contorted. Some expressionless. Some… hauntingly familiar. One of them—I think I know one of them. I think—
