TWENTY
Damien
“Pleasetellmetheyweren’t just talking about Damien.” My little bird’s voice trembled. “Taken and abused… byhumans?”
“I’m sorry.” Rhett opened his arms, and she practically stumbled into his chest. “It’s Damien’s story to tell. No one else’s.”
Fuck.
No.
This isn’t happening.
“But… he never told me, Rhett.Oh, Kalista. I didn’t know.He’d been abused, andI didn’t know.”
The grief and guilt in her demeanor struck a nerve in my chest. I shoved myself through the shadows of my childhood home and stepped out in front of the maids who had been scurrying away like rats after revealing my fucking trauma to my sweet mate.
The two maids jolted to a stop, and fear permeated the air as their eyes widened.
I recognized one of the maids as Agatha, a wallflower that I’d never had an issue with before. The other I didn’t recognize, and I deemed her the toxic one of the pair.
“Whatcha talking about, ladies?” My lips tugged into a grin. “Ah, it wasn’t about me, was it? Surely not about what happened to me with the humans.”
“Of course not!” the new maid explained, planting her hands on her hips as if I were wrongfully accusing her.
Anger flushed through me, but my grin only grew.The lying bitch.
Agatha dropped to her knees and hung her head. “I’m so sorry, Fletcher. We spoke of your past and your mate overheard it. I amdeeplysorry.”
“What’re you doing?” the other hissed, nudging Agatha with her foot. “Get up. We didn’t do anything wrong. The entire capital knows what happened. Why should talking about it be forbidden?”
A cold laugh burst from my mouth, and she stilled, wide eyes meeting mine. “Oh, no. You didn’t do anything wrong by gossiping about me in my own home. Exposing my trauma to my mate, who didn’t fucking know. That wasn’t wrong, was it?”
She stepped back, gaze darting back and forth for an escape. “We weren’t trying to—”
“Shh.” I pressed my finger to my lips as my shadows struck, wrapping around her tightly so she couldn’t move anything but her head. “Can’t have you making the same mistake twice, can we?”
A few tendrils of my shadow slipped into her mouth and pried it open, while another pierced the center of her tongue. A gurgle sound left her throat as she thrashed her head back and forth with tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Fletcher, please reconsider,” Agatha squeaked, in an unsure voice that reminded me of Wren.
What would she think? She probably wouldn’t be happy with me cutting the tongue completely out… but this maid was the reason I had to dig back into my past. But… was that a just punishment or was I acting out of anger?
Every punishment I dealt was well deserved, but was this one?
My face contorted into a screw as I wrenched my shadows from the mouthy maid, watching her fall to the floor roughly.
Blood trickled out of the side of her mouth as she stared up at me, not daring to say a word. I tried not to feed off the pain, but her fear and pain mixed and seeped into my energy.
“Thank you,” Agatha breathed, fisting her hands in her long skirt as she remained kneeling. “I know we were in the wrong. It won’t happen again.”
“If anyone here speaks about what happened without good fucking reason, I’ll cut out their tongues. Consider this a warning.” I rubbed a hand down my face before stepping back into the shadows.
Disgust and shame weaseled its way into my gut as bile crept up my throat. I didn’t exactly know what Wren would think, but I knew it couldn’t be good. When people found out what happened to me, they pitied me. I loathed pity. If I could destroy an emotion, it would be that one. I’d gouged the eyes out of many demons when I returned. I kept their eyes in jars for years until the pity that swirled within them pissed me off worse.
I couldn’t stand to see pity in Wren’s beautiful blue eyes. She looked at me as if I were strong,capable. She believed I could keep her safe, and I could. I would kill, mutilate, and torture for her. Would she still believe that when she found out I couldn’t even keep myself safe?
The door knob turned as I stepped out of the shadows into my room. Rhett opened the door for Wren, and she stood under the door frame looking so small as she stared up at me. Pity wasn’t what lingered in her eyes. Instead, it was concern and guilt.
