She spoke about it like she was describing grocery shopping. I wasn't any different. None of my kills stayed with me like that first one. Everything after became survival. Disobedience earned beatings, but at least I wasn’t being used as my father’s weapon anymore.
I waited for her to keep going, and after an exhale, she finally did. “His name was Ion Andrei—”
I cut her off. “That was you? Holy shit. I remember hearing stories about whoever pulled that off. Didn’t know the Nycto Reaper had that one under her belt, too.”
“There are probably a lot of people you don’t know I’m responsible for.”
She dropped her gaze, fingers picking at each other. I would never judge her for any of it. We all survive however we can. Though sometimes I did wonder how much of our souls would be left by the end.
“He was at a funeral. Not sure whose, but intel said he’d show up. I went, blended into the crowd. It was massive, packed shoulder to shoulder, easy to disappear in.”
She paused, studying me again, and all I could think was how impossible it would be for anyone not to notice her.
“There were funeral flowers everywhere. Too many. The whole place smelled almost pleasant, which felt wrong. But there were a lot of black roses mixed in. They stood out while I made my way to him. When the moment lined up, I dosed him. Quick and clean, making sure I didn’t create a scene.”
Her voice stayed even, accepting the monsters we had to become.
“He hit the floor and tried to grab a table on his way down. People gasped, but no one looked at me. I blended deeper into the crowd.”
She drew in a breath.
“When he fell onto his back, one of the black roses from a bouquet landed right on his chest. Just one. The rest scattered on the other side of the table. I shouldn’t have noticed that, not with how fast everything was moving, but it stuck with me. It felt fitting, in a way. A tragic ending he earned.”
Her shoulders stiffened, and she kept her eyes on her hands. She didn’t look at me for a long while.
Getting to know her like this felt unreal. I’d wanted this since the moment I met her—pieces of her, unfiltered. I just wish she trusted me enough to give more. I never knew if she feared my judgment or just didn’t want to drag me deeper into the demons she lived with.
“He deserved it,” I told her. “And honestly? The black roses thing is pretty poetic.”
The corner of my mouth twitched because I knew that would get her. She always hated how much she loved my smirking.
Lina finally smiled at me, hitting me on the shoulder with her fist. Pain flared down my whole side.
“My bad,” she quickly said.
I wondered what else she might tell me. How deep would she let me go?
Chapter 44
ADELINA
“Lina, do you give each death a rose?” Cezar asked.
“I guess so. I try to, when it’s possible. The specific hits get one. The slaughters are harder. It turned into a ritual. If I skip it, the death feels unfinished.”
I wasn’t sure why I admitted that, but it felt natural. Talking to Cezar always did. I was getting comfortable, too comfortable. A part of me wanted to empty every dark corner of my life into his hands… but I couldn’t. Not yet. Still, he affected me in ways I hated to acknowledge. The man kept me hot and bothered ninety percent of the time he was anywhere near me.
“Let’s go into our room,” I said, taking the blanket off us.
Standing, I held out my hand.
As complicated as things were, when I was with Cezar, I was so content. The world could end, and it wouldn’t matter.
I led him inside and pointed to the chair in the center of the room. It wasn’t one of my decorative ones, just a wide, sturdy wooden chair meant to replace the one Dorin made me break. It could hold two smaller people or one Cezar.
“Sit.”
Immediately, he went over and sat. Excitement stirred under my skin. It had been a while since we’d played properly. I didn’twant to aggravate his healing wounds, but I needed this… and he did too.
