Page 61 of Two Sides of Sin

A jolt of strength hit me. I forced myself up, the pain in my arm a secondary thought to the maniac behind me. I dived back into the trees, my bare feet hitting the dirt as I sprinted towards the cabin.

Each heavy thud of his boots behind me ticked down the seconds I had left.

Relentless. Predatory. The sound of an animal finally done playing with its food. I surged through the brush, branches whipping my face like lashes, my lungs tasting of impending death. The porch was right there. The open door was a golden promise. I was almost⁠—

Pressure.

A sudden, crushing weight hit the centre of my back, driving the air from my lungs in a silent, wet wheeze. My feet skidded into the dirt, stalling my momentum as the world momentarily stopped.

I looked down.

Slowly, in a dreamlike blur, the silver tip of the dagger breached the centre of my chest. It tore through my flesh gleaming and bright for one heartbeat before a dark, heavy crimson began to bloom around the metal like a grotesque, hungry flower. I watched, paralysed, as Cain slid the blade back out of my body with a wet, jarring, schloopp that echoed in the night air.

My knees buckled. I hit the forest floor hard, clutching at the gaping ruin in my chest as if my bare hands could hold my soul inside. The cabin lights were blurring into long, bleeding smears of gold.

Cain lowered himself over me, a shadow blotting out the stars. He knelt in the dirt, his mask looming inches from my face. He reached out with a hand drenched in my blood and gently, almost lovingly—wiped a stray hair from my forehead.

“See you in the next life, little bird,” he whispered, his voice a mocking melody.

He raised the blade high, the moonlight catching the silver one last time. He plunged it down, but I didn’t feel the pain—I only felt the burning heat.

Cain didn’t relent. He moved with a determined, aggressive motion, his hands rising and falling in a maddened, bloody prayer.

Through the blurred haze of my vision, I watched as he plunged his hand into the ruined mess of my chest.

My breath stalled as he withdrew, his fingers curled around a slick, pulsing mass of muscle.

My heart.

It twitched in his palm, a dying thing desperate for one last beat. I watched, paralysed, as Cain tilted his mask back just enough to reveal his mouth, his mismatched eyes burning with a starving, unholy light. He leaned in and sank his teeth into the muscle, the scent of my own life filling the air.

The world went permanently still, the light retreating as I watched him devour the part of me that belonged to his brother.

A strange, phantom warmth settled over my skin, like the sun hitting the garden on a late spring afternoon. I wasn’t sure if my brain was finally misfiring, playing back the final seven minutes of a dying consciousness.

The sound of Cain’s wet, carnivorous chewing drifted away, replaced by a low, melodic vibration that hummed through the fabric of my DNA. It was a voice I knew better than my own. It was the only sanctuary I had ever found in this life.

“And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side / Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride…”

I leaned into the sound, letting the rhythm of the poem replace the rhythm of the heart I no longer had.

The darkness didn’t feel so scary. It felt like a poem. And as the last syllable of my life slipped away, I finally understood the truth: Julian hadn’t been my hero, and Cain hadn’t been the only villain in my story. They were just two demons who had loved an angel into her grave.

With one final, silent struggle, the light went out, and I stayed by his side—just as the verse had always promised.

Chapter 42

Julian

The latch finally gave way—a sharp, metallic pop that shot through the air.

I left skin behind on the broken, bloodied lock, my shoulder aching violently as I heaved the lid of the trunk open.

I fell out of the car, tumbling onto the ground, a mess of blood and desperation.

My boots hit gravel with a heavy thud, my legs failing beneath me. I was covered in my own blood, my lungs a burning wreck of exhaustion and failure.

I scrambled to my feet, my vision blurring. I saw the trail of broken branches leading away from the car and towards the golden glow of the cabin porch. I ran. I felt the tether—the invisible, gold thread that connected my soul to hers, fraying into nothingness.