“What was the business?” I’m going to regret opening my mouth because she smiles, prouder than she has been previously.
“Everything the darkness could wish for. Within this world, where every act finds its way to the light at one time or another, they require organs for donation. Whereas in the darkest parts of our collective worlds, there are people willing to pay any price to taste what is not easily come by.”
Organ trafficking. My father—who built his name as a renowned surgeon, opened hospitals around the world, praised for his philanthropy—is an organ trafficker for cannibals.
Melantha creakily stands, slowly walking over to me. She gently rests her hand on my head as she says, “Rest, my dear, while you can.”
3
DELILAH
Who would willingly want to eat human flesh? Now the culty wedding breakfast makes sense. They all revel in it like being depraved is boring, searching for the next thing to outdo the other’s vile acts.
Resting my head against the stone wall, I stare at the joint of the ceiling and wall. Kane would make this better, make me feel less alone, kiss my forehead while I tell him why he was put in prison, wrap his arms around me—protect me.
Our lives are like a million-piece jigsaw puzzle, but we were too far away, wrapped in each other, so we didn’t see all the small joints making up the pieces until our families decided to send it into disarray. Now, he’s left me to find the pieces alone. For each one I manage to place, the more the picture gets distorted, and nothing was what either of us thought it was.
He wasmadeto hate me.
I was forced to forget him.
Even our childhood wasn’t chance. My parents moved to spy on the Xandroses under Rowan’s command. It’s the clearest memory I have after my father whipped me with his belt and he thought I was unconscious as he took a phone call with my mother at his side, both allowing me to hear their secrets without ever realizing.
Anna sheepishly enters the lounge. Stopping at the door, she asks, “Would you like help?”
“Fuck you,” I scoff, blankly staring at the wall.
“Delilah, I’m offering you help, not a snake.”
I snap my head towards her, glaring. “I’d rather have the snake. At least it hisses in warning, unlike you.”
She looks behind her before she quickly walks over to me. Dropping down to her knees so we’re eye level, she whispers, “I did give you a warning. I told you not to come home when you called, but you didn’t listen to me.”
“You fucking helped them. You shot arrows at us. You were beside that old bitch while she whipped Kane. You remember him, don’t you? The little boy whose sandwiches you’d cut into triangles?” Her eyes harden, the same way they used to when I was a child, disobeying my parents. “I once wished you were my mother. Fooled me, because you’re exactly like everyone fucking else. You’re as evil as them, and I know you were reporting back to Helene.”
I laugh as her face falls, giving away my memories even though she’s going to tattle.
“What? Are you scared about what I know? Or is the fact you were in the hospital something you don’t want anyone to know?”
“I tried,” she lies. “I tried to protect you. But this world…” She shakes her head. “It’s not something I can protect you from when I’m the one who needs saving from you.”
My anger rises when she stands to leave. Grabbing her ankle, my fingers biting into the joint as I stare up at her, I grit, “I was the child. Not you. I was vulnerable. Not you.”
“You still don’t understand exactly what you were born into.” Leaning down, she fits her lips by my ears. “The stories are your legacy. You were always going to be the princess of your parents’ sins. I will always be the one who serves them.” She ghosts her hand over my hair as she lowers her voice further. “I would have loved to have a daughter like you. Intelligent, strong-willed, and loyal to those she cares about. But the anger you carry comes from your father and the need to hurt from your mother. Use them wisely.”
I let go of her ankle and go back to staring at the wall since that’s more useful.
If Kane was here, what would he do?
Whenever I was scared, he would slip his hand into mine, fold his fingers over the back of my palm, and I’d instantly feel better. I try to replicate it with my own hands. Threading my fingers together, I press my palms flat against each other and squeeze, but the proportions are wrong.
Anna comes back into the room with fresh towels, a new bowl of water, gauze piled on a large tray with a stack of cheese sandwiches and bottles of water. I move my bloody feet away from her as she kneels beside me. Fucking twisted bitch. She’s not going to manipulate me into thinking she’s not like everyone else here.
“Where are we?” I ask as she wets a hand towel, before slowly wiping the dried mud off my face. I can use her, like she used me to do what Helene wanted.
“I was born here,” she whispers. “When the island was still inhabited, there was always laughter in the air.”
“Okay, do I give a fuck? Tell me where we are.”
