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I didn’t hear the words. They simply existed in my mind. And sank into my heart in the same heartbeat that my body gave.
The thunder rolled once more, then gave way to the hiss and patter of rain. The darkness returned. I found myself on the ground, cheek in the wet dirt, sobbing like a child.
And when I could open my eyes, lever myself up on shaking arms and search the dark, it was to find Cali, on hands and knees, mouth-open sobbing, just feet away from me.
“Cali!” I gasped, clawing a numb hand toward her. “I came as fast as—”
She shrieked and threw herself back with such force that she fell on her ass in the mud, crying out in wordless fear.
My heart turned to ice.
No.
No.
Not you too—
“C-Cali—”
“Don’t touch me!” She scrambled backward, spider-walking on hands and heels, shaking her head. “Don’t touch me!”
“Cali, I would never—”
“You’re just like them. Just like the rest of—”
“NO!”
When she turned over, tried to reach her feet, clawed hands into the mud, tripping on her own skirts, I lost my mind.
I tackled her, snarling at her that I wasn’t like him, that I’d never!
But she shrieked, and screamed.
And when I clapped a hand over her mouth—because the others would hear where we were, and then I’d have to fight them, too—she sobbed against my dirty palm.
I dragged her back to the beginning, muttering the whole way, reminding her that I was saving her from this… this darkness.
And yet, I felt her recoil as my body shuddered with wave after wave of power feeding into my veins.
Because I had killed.
Not just killed an innocent sacrifice. Or even a rival.
I had killed the Dominus and now carried his mantle.
When I got her back, they all watched, silent. Stunned. Afraid.
Because I wore the mark that only they could sense, as surely as I carried the limp body of the woman I’d claimed.
Mother saved me.
Ignoring the protests from the others, I dragged Calliope back to the house.
When the servants saw me at the door, they backed away in fear, and darted away to find Mother, who rushed in exclaiming about histrionics—until she saw me, standing in the center of the marble entryway, dripping, an unconscious woman in my arms, and she stopped dead.
Not dead.
I knew how still the dead could be.
