A beat passes. Two. Her voice drops to a murmur that sounds like a confession and a dare all at once.
“You are demons, Jude.” She settles a trembling hand on my chest, above my beating heart. “At least you don’t make excuses for it. You don’t pretend like you did me a favor. I can respect that. You let me be myself. You are gods of your own making. You all share darkness. Well, I know how to wear darkness like armor. It feels like home.”
She stares at me like she’s daring me to flinch. I don’t.
She steps back just slightly, not retreating—rebalancing
“So don’t mistake old scars for the worst of it,” she says, voice low and steady. “You gave me new ones. Just as painful. But it’s a different kind of pain.” Her fingers brush her own wrist—not hiding, not flaunting, just stating a fact written in flesh.
“You carved over the old script with your violence…but you rewrote it. The story changed.” Her eyes spark with something feral and beautiful. “But you let me write it at the same time.”
Every time Raphael asked if she wished for death. Every time he said to give him the pain. And when I held her…
In the pit, she used the bones of her forerunners to escape. She wrote her own chapter.
“You’re lying, Babydoll,” I challenge her, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Your heart is stronger, that’s true. It claws back, also true. You’re a beautiful blend of intelligent and diabolical, as unhinged as we are in some ways. But your heart’s not cruel, Briella. Not with how you broke down in my arms during the initiation. Or the pain in your eyes when we whipped ourselves. Or the moments of vulnerability you gave me in the shower. You’re a little wicked, Babydoll. But your heart’s got all sorts of sweet and soft beneath the scars. Gospel truth.”
The air between us thickens—not suffocating, but charged, humming like a wire about to snap. But she doesn’t deny my words. No, she nods. Progress. One step at a time.
The flicker of mischief in her eyes slides into something deadlier. Something intimate. “Tit for tat, Jude,” she murmurs.“Show me a glimpse of your demons…” Her gaze dips to my chest, as if she can see right through to the fractures beneath the surface, then lifts again, holding me there. “And I’ll show you mine.”
I swallow hard. My pulse pounds in my throat.
I’ve never made that kind of trade before. Other than Raphael, I’ve never invited someone into the haunted parts. Never wanted to.
But with her? It doesn’t feel like a risk.
It feels like surrendering to a storm I’d rather drown in than outlive. Not today, but…soon.
I nod. “Deal.”
35
Seth
TIME FOR HER TO STOP UNDERESTIMATING ME.
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Afterlife”
Hours later, Vincent and I enter the main cabin, and we hear Briella and the others from the family room. I shake my head with an airy laugh because she and Rory are fighting.
“No way,” he grumbles. “Not a chance in hell, Lass.”
“Worship includes whatever movie I want to watch,” she points out.
“We arenotwatchingI Spit On Your Grave.”
“It gives me inspiration.” I can hear Briella practically hum with pride. I chuff a laugh. I only know that movie because of Rory. Fucking hypocrite.
Vincent stomps down the hall, turning the corner into the kitchen and moving toward the family room. His hand is clenched into a fist, his veins throbbing.
“Oh, hi, Tats!” Briella chirps.
“Is that…fucking glitter on your hoodie?” Rory asks, bursting into a hearty laugh.
I round the corner, smirking when Briella scans me up and down with an amused grin. But I bet she didn’t expect me toreturn with the feathered pink boa around my neck. Jude sets his book down, brows furrowing in confusion.
