I scoff. "Really? That's where we start? My love life? Now you're interested?"
They flinch, glance at each other, then at me.
"There's a lot we need to talk about. We understand you're angry, but we can rebuild—"
"Shut up."
I don't raise my voice. I don't need to. The dark power behind it makes them step back like trained pets.
"After all these years, you come crawling because of this? Darius Hawthorn?" I laugh. "That's rich."
"Sage, we did look for you—" Father starts.
"We couldn't find you—"
I take a slow step forward. Their words die in their throats. They feel the shift in the air, the quiet pulse of death winding through it.
"I'm not the little girl you tried to polish into a perfect wife for some corporate heir," I say. "I'm something much better. You'd be proud, if you weren't about to die."
I tilt my head, fangs sliding down. "So. Let's make this quick. Which one of you should I kill first?"
The shock is exquisite. The denial. The fragile disbelief.
"Is this… some kind of joke?" Father stammers.
I cross the room in a blink and shove him. Just a touch. He flies into the wall, the sound of impact a sharp punctuation.
Mother screams. I grab her by the throat. I don't need an audience yet.
"Not a joke," I say softly. "This is serious business."
Father scrambles backward, eyes wide. I drag Mother forward, her heels scraping on the floor.
"The best method is to kill the one whose death hurts the other most," I muse. "Problem is, between you two, I can't tell who would care. You're both the same—greedy, hollow, bloodsucking things." I smile. "And that's me saying it."
I tap my free hand against the table, thinking aloud. "You drain people of joy, ambition, will. I take blood. You take everything."
I tighten my grip, enough to make Mother gasp.
"So," I say, eyes flicking between them, "youhelp me out. Which one still has a shred of empathy?"
They look at each other, but no words come out, just mumbles, half-formed prayers.
Everyone remembers God when death's in the room.
"Useless." I sigh, and shove Mother to the floor. She falls hard, crawling toward Father until they huddle side by side—two trapped animals, wide-eyed and trembling.
"All right. Let's make it fair." I raise a finger and trace between them. "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo… Who should I kill first—him or this ho?" I grin. "Sorry. I was never good at rhyming. Execution, though… I excel at that."
I move. Blur-fast. My hand closes around Mother's arm, hauling her up. Her pulse flutters under my grip. I bare my teeth, ready to sink in—
Bam.
The door explodes inward.
I drop her instantly, darting back before anyone can reach me.
"Husbands," I greet, voice slick with amusement. "Perfect timing. You should meet your in-laws. Before they die."
