Page 54 of The Echo of Her

Now, I am most definitely boneless.

The Watcher

I watch as Lydia Aston and Callum Thorne flee from my capture on the surveillance footage.

This is the third time I’ve played it back.

This is the third time I’ve watched Callum toss me against a wall.

This is the third time I’ve watched him take what’s mine.

I don’t know why I allowed Lydia to see me. I was supposed to remain hidden, always. That was the plan. I failed. I was supposed to sacrifice her to the sound, and I failed.

She’ll forget. The sound will make her forget.

I can’t stop shaking. Some part of me knows that none of this is right. But that part of me is fading by the second. I’ve nearly forgotten the man I was before now.

It’s part of the plan. Don’t stray from your purpose. This is the way.

I hear the voices in my mind, pulling me back into the darkness where I belong. I’ve figured out that the voices grow louder when my mind tries to wander. I enjoy that because it keeps me in line. It keeps me away from that logical voice. I only wonder, why do they speak to me as if I am a villain?

I am a savior.

Nevertheless, I’ve felt my mind shifting more lately, as if attempting to steal my sanity out from under me. Sometimes, I wake up with no recollection of memories. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself. The voices tell me that it’s okay. They tell me that things will soon make sense and that the clarity I seek will reveal itself in time. I know I must listen, but I can’t help but hear that small voice still. It feels like I’m missing some vital piece of something, yet it remains intangible.

Lydia Aston must die. This is the way. She is the key.

They are right. I must devote my full attention to her. The voices tell me that Lydia Aston is the one. She is the key to the Second Wave. Without her, none of this will work. I’ll take Callum out if he gets in the way. I can find other soldiers. I’ll remove any obstacle I must.

My ears ring and my head pounds. I feel like something is clawing at the confines of my mind. I get the feeling that it does not want me to complete my tasks. I fear that it will try to stop me. I must hurry.

The sound will not sleep, but I grow weary.

I think that I’m slowly losing myself to the darkness.

I think that perhaps … I am the darkness.

Callum

Lydia Aston is my ruin, and I’ve never hungered more for my own undoing.

I wake with her beside me, wrapped in her warmth and the intoxicating scent of citrus and vanilla. Breathing in deep, I run a hand over her hair as she sleeps soundly on my chest. One of her legs is hitched up and over my own, and the sound of her soft snoring fills the room around us.

When I smile, the unfamiliar sensation feels natural with her beside me. I knew from the moment I saw Lydia Aston that I’d have one hell of a time resisting her. I must admit that giving in has been the sweetest surrender, one I wish I’d succumbed to sooner.

I think of all the time I’ve wasted being a grade A asshole, all the time I could have been buried deep inside of her instead. Fuck, the thought of it makes my cock harden beneath her. Her skin is soft as I run my hand down her bare side and over the smooth curve of her hip. I squeeze softly, thrusting my hips forward only enough to create a bit of much-needed friction. She begins to stir, rubbing her face into my chest.

“Hi there,” she murmurs, rubbing her thigh over my growing erection. “Is the little guy a morning person?”

She laughs softly. The sound of it is music to my soul, seeming to refract the light in the most beautiful array of brilliant hues.

“What did I tell you about referring to it as little?” I ask, gliding my hand back up her body.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I tug until her neck arches and her eyes are on mine. Leaning in, I bring my mouth down to hers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.