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“Fuck,” I whimper and press my lips to his so desperately, like it might be our last. This is the first hallucination I’ve had while being aware of what my mind is capable of. I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy it.

As I pull away, he shifts, and his scars push through his smooth skin. I trace the one on his right shoulder, which extends up his neck to his ear. This is the reason he’s dead.

“You got hit by a bomb,” I tell him. “You died while on a mission a year ago.”

The memory rushes back to me—one of many I was suppressing. The letter Natalie gave me from the army, telling me he was dead. I fell asleep visualizing what a bomb would do to someone’s face. That was the beginning of my descent.

I hated Natalie for it…I blamed her for his death. Then losing my grandfather put me over the edge. My heart squeezes as I’m overwhelmed by another memory. Grasping onto it so it doesn’t slip out again. This one is even more sinister. A jar, with four spiders inside—venomous and deadly. Only one of them never reached its victim. It never found the flesh I intended it to bite into when I left it in Mrs. Parkinson’s bedroom.

This realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

The Archer was the only one who could truly stop me from losing myself entirely. The darkness inside was always there. A surge of emotion pierces my heart like a dagger, and for a fleeting moment, I want to lose myself in my thoughts, to find myself in Nick.

I stare at him now, wondering what version of him I’m going to get. The one I fell in love with or the one that represents the monster inside myself.

He’s grinning ear to ear, the shadows dancing in his eyes. “What’s wrong, wildling, you don’t like what you see?”

I grab his arm and dig my nails into his flesh. It’s silly really, since he’s not real, but it gives me a sense of control even if I’m only hurting myself. He flinches for just a moment as I pour all my effort into hurting him. My mind tremors as I grasp what’s left of my fragmented reality. I’m hurting him, yet the blood from my nails is running down my arm as I peel into my flesh.

I’m so fucking angry.

“You lied to me. You told me you wouldn’t get yourself killed, and you did. You promised me it wouldn’t end like this.” I stare at the whites of his eyes as they slowly transform into the man I fell for. His scars shedding away, leaving the soft, smooth version of him.

Back and forth. Nick and the Archer.

“Are you done?” he asks softly.

I shake my head and smack him again. “No. I’ll never be done. I’m not over you. I will never get over you, Nick.”

He moves a piece of hair from my forehead, which is drenched in sweat. My body is an inferno. “Don’t slip back into that dark place. You know I couldn’t stay here.”

A bundle of emotion pushes through my belly. “Take me with you. Bring me to wherever you are. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do that, wildling. I’m here to say goodbye. You need to remember everything now. You’ve been fighting ghosts for too long. It’s all in your head.”

He cups the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss, his lips find mine in the dark. Immediately my body warms up, as if he’s breathing life into me.

“You feel so real,” I whisper. “I can smell you, taste you. It’s like you’re here.” No matter what happens, I will force myself to cling to this memory, whatever memory this is.

The soft strokes of my hair make my insides turn into ashes, and I lose myself to him while he cradles me.

“Are you going to be a good girl from now on, baby?”

“Yeah,” I say, and my eyes grow heavy. I’m so fucking tired.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?” he asks.

My breathing falters. “Not yet.” I’ll never live long enough to be punished enough for what I am.”

“Are you going to admit what you are?”

The fluttering in my heart helps me remember. I’m still alive…My heart is still beating. I lay in his arms for a few seconds, just closing my eyes, and I listen to his heartbeat. Even in death, his grip on my heart is so strong, I doubt he’ll ever let go.

A guttural sound rises in my throat. “I’m a killer,” I say. “I murdered innocent people. I helped my grandfather murder innocent people.”

Beth was the one who cleaned up our messes.

Natalie was such an easy target. She fit the pattern we needed.