11
POGUE
I grabbed her.
I didn’t mean to grab her.
Why in Hallow’s name did I grab her?
Somewhere deep inside the festering, cold, void that’s my soul . . . I knew why.
I’ve seen what the Skell King does to souls he was curious about. And hers—hers glowed like a fucking beacon. Bright. Alive. Begging to be broken.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Bastard.
I should’ve let it have her—lethimhave her.
But I couldn’t. Just like I couldn’tbefore.
Fuck that. Fuck him!
Crack
The sound of the whip split through my skull like a rusted nail, driving deep, stabbing the memory into my temple.
Incompetent—
Crack!
Useless—
Crack!
Wretched—
Crack!
The shadows around me stirred, sensing blood. They crept closer, coiling through my thoughts like they always did. Dark demons with razor teeth.
Hungry. Salivating. The need to taste flesh building.
No words would calm them. Only will. I had towillthem away.
I could’ve made them do alotmore tonight . . .
But didn’t. Wasn’tsupposedto.
But that scream—herscream. It hadn’t only pierced the night, it tore something open inside me.
The image of the Dullahan burying its fangs into her flesh burned behind my eyes. That moment, right before the fatal blow, replayed over and over.
A surge of something foreign, electric, andwronghit me.
How reckless and stupid I’d been to try and protect her . . .to an extent.
