He nods and stands up. “Despite how things ended, it was an honor to have you as my champion, Caden, even for a little while. Now with the world ready to turn its back on you, let’s see how long you can hold on to your morals. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see it.”
*
I wake up in an empty room. The light from the rising sun slips in through the cracks in the blinds. I carefully move my woundedarm and leg, relieved to discover they both are working properly despite the heavy numbness. I hesitantly touch my face, praying that Hector was lying, but he wasn’t.
My mutation is still written across my face for the world to see and judge.
Let’s see how long you can hold on to your morals.
I honestly have no idea, but I’ve survived too much to give up and let Hector write down the final words of my tale.
Despite the silence in the room, I can hear people talking in different parts of the clinic and even outside. I’ll need to get better at controlling my senses, or this is bound to get annoying fast. There is still strength in me that didn’t pass after Hector’s defeat. Not as much as it was while he still lived, but definitely more than it was before this hell started.
Through the sounds of conversations, I catch footsteps approaching my room. Without knowing for sure, I canfeelwho it is. I push myself up to sit straighter, then Finn opens the door and peeks inside. He seems startled to find me awake, or maybe it’s my face that still rattles him.
He enters and shuts the door behind him. For a few moments, he stands by the entrance, his heart beating rapidly. Finally, he asks, “Is it really you?”
“Meaning?”
“You were cold and… cruel. Are you back to being you?”
I’m sorry he had to experience me like that, but during those days, the only thing I cared about was making Hector proud. Finn and everything else felt insignificant, a burden. “There’s one way to find out. Turn around and bend over.”
He comes over and kisses me. If he’s disgusted by my appearance, he’s good at hiding it.
I hold his face and kiss him harder, breathing him in. When we break the kiss, he climbs into my bed and lies with his head on my chest.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.” I stroke his face, tracing his cheek, his temple, and his long lashes. Hector almost stole the ability to cherish every inch of Finn from me, and for that alone he should rot in hell.
“Do you still feel him?” he asks.
“Only echoes, but they’re fading. I had a chat with him before I woke up.”
“A dream?”
“It wasn’t a dream. We said our goodbyes, and he said I should expect to get shit from everyone going forward.”
“He was trying to mess with your head.”
“He was telling the truth.” I raise my scaled arm. “I can cover these with long sleeves, but not the ones on my face or the color of my eyes.”
“So? It looks good.”
I snort. “You’re a kinky little pervert, aren’t you?”
“I have a peculiar taste, and I’m not trying to downplay what happened to you. It’s not going to be easy, but I can’t think of anyone who can handle it better than you.”
I kiss the top of his head. “Thanks. Did you see him die?”
“I did. He suffered.”
I wish to feel better knowing that, but I feel nothing.
“How’s Timothy?” I faintly remember seeing him injured when they brought him to give me some of his blood.
“He’s better now. I thought that he was dead after Hector shot him, but Frankie got him back.”
