“That’s what he tells me anyway. But I don’t entirely trust him. He’s a fucking psychopath.”
She nods in quiet understanding, and I lift my hand to run my fingers through her silky hair.
“Stay away from him for now. He’s not gonna last much longer.”
She smiles faintly.
“You shouldn’t hurt your family for me.”
My brows knit and I lean over her on one elbow.
“I’ll fucking kill anyone for you, Allure. Don’t ever forget that. Besides, he’s not family”
She scans my face as I continue.
“None of this, this blood, this society, this fucked-up circus, means a single thing if you’re not beside me now, little corpse. You go, and I burn it all the fuck down, and smile while it crumbles.”
“You smiling?” she taunts, and I snarl, yanking her closer, our bodies pressing together, the heat of her skin searing into mine.
We fall into a heavy silence, our breaths mingling in the space between us, lips just a touch apart.
“Tell me about yourself, Wrath,” she whispers, her gaze searching mine, like she’s trying to read me, to unravel what’s hidden beneath the surface. “You know enough about me.”
“Do I?” I ask, my voice low, the question more of a challenge than curiosity. I shift slightly, adjusting my head on the pillow, but don’t look away.
“I think you know a fair amount,” she says softly, a shadow passing across her face. “But not much of my past is good.”
I study her, the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, the ghosts of memories she’s trying to bury and it’s like looking at my own reflection.
“Neither is mine, little corpse,” I murmur.
“You’ve been hurt too?” Her voice is tentative, like she’s afraid to ask, but can’t help herself. “Is that why you don’t speak to many people?”
I stay silent, not sure what to say, my words drying up in my throat.
She lifts herself slowly, climbing on top of me as I roll onto my back. Her warm, small body presses against mine, and my hands sweep over the curves of her ass and hips.
She rests her chin on her folded hands on my chest, her lips brushing lightly against mine.
“Give me the worst parts of you, Wrath. Let your nightmares seep into my skin like they were living there first. Let me taste every silent scream still clawing at your throat. Let me feel the ruin that made you, the destruction in your bones.” She breathes, sweeping her mouth over mine, eyes fluttering closed. “Let me drown in it all with you.”
My chest rises beneath her, slow and heavy, and I stare up at the ceiling for a beat before glancing down.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I murmur. “The worst parts of me don’t stay silent—they spread. They fucking infect.”
“Then let it. I don’t want some filtered version of you. I want what everyone else runs from.”
A small twitch touches my lips as my hand finds her hair, stroking it slowly, a deep sigh leaving me.
“You breathe in every filthy part of me like you were born to, little corpse. Like you crave the rot that carved me into this fucking nightmare. Since the second you staggered into my chaos, I haven’t felt the need to scream, because now I burn it into you.” I admit. “Youaredrowning in it all with me already. Youalwayshave been.”
Her eyes soften before I lean forward, pressing my nose to hers.
“How does it feel to be choked on Wrath?” I bite out viciously.
She giggles, shaking her head, then her eyes trail over the walls, lingering on the mess of ink and scratches.
“And all these words?” she asks, tilting her head, eyes cutting back to mine.
