Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Two of my little sisters crawled into my arms, breaking into wails as Quincy strode amongst our midst. Counting us, he nodded, then spun on his heel and left.
A day later, the locks on the doors and the bars on the windows were removed. Our mothers were interviewed and given rooms. Their children going with them.
By the time my mother and I were dragged before the new lord and master, my mother had pissed herself in fear and I prepared to kill him if he laid a single finger on her like our father had.
Instead, he’d handed her an envelope and offered to send her home.
We’d been flown far, far away.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to my half-blooded siblings.
And that was when the loneliness set in.
Amnesia wrapped my memories in forgetfulness far stronger than the blackouts of before.
I’d deliberately forgotten what my father did to those women so I didn’t pass on the curse to my sisters and brothers.
But now I deleted those siblings from my mind so I didn’t have to suffer heartbreak every time I remembered I’d once had a family, and now I had none—
Digging my fingers into my eyes, I highlighted every fucking word I’d written so far and deleted them. Every comma, paragraph, and memory. Hours upon hours’ worth of transcribing all gone.
Pointless.
Ridiculous.
Agonising.
I didn’t want to remember anymore.
I wanted peace.
The longer I stayed here with Ily trying to seduce me and the castle whispering I was sane instead of twisted, the more I sank deeper and deeper.
Every part of me was heavy.
Lethargy turned into quicksand, clinging to my limbs every time I tried to move, to think, to talk. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken out loud. I’d let my fingers do all my speaking and my mind—
I’ve had enough.
Slamming the laptop closed, I swooped to my feet and stalked out of the library.
I was done with the past.
Done with everything.
I wanted out.
I needed to run before I lost my fucking mind.
Stalking up the stairs, I ignored the opulence surrounding me. My fingers almost dented the laptop as I took the steps two at a time and practically ran down the corridor.
Exploding into my chamber, Ily squeaked and leapt back from where she’d been rummaging in the wardrobe. Hugging a baggy beige jumper that seemed to be the only thing of substance Victor had ordered for her, she backed up with eyes wide. The sight of her clothes hanging with mine. The fact that we’d been living together for weeks. That I still wanted to hurt her even now…
Christ!
Throwing the laptop onto the bed, I bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Grabbing the sink, I breathed hard.
The screams as my father molested his current woman.
The whippings, the bleedings, the rapes—
Panic latched around my throat.
My vision went hazy.
That’s inside me.
That curse would never stop.
Until the day I died, the madness that’d lived within him would live within me, and the only way to stop it was to kill the host. Just like Q did back then. He’d shot our father in cold blood, then turfed us out of his inherited estate all because he knew.
He knew he’d end up having to kill us if we stayed because we were all infected—
I gagged.
That damn fucking nausea was back.
“Henri?” A tentative knock on the door.
My head tipped down.
Guilt festered with the putridness inside me.
Go away, little nightmare.
I beg you.
“Are you…are you okay?” The door opened a crack.
I bared my teeth and spun to face her. “Get out!”
She blanched and backed up.
The fear in her eyes.
The hate beneath all her sweet obedience.
Ah shit.
My lunch reappeared as I crashed to my knees by the toilet. Closing my eyes, I rode through the wracking heaves and flushed my shame the moment my body had purged.
Staggering to my feet, I grabbed my toothbrush, scrubbed away all the shit I could never say, then spat minty froth into the sink.
By the time I’d splashed ice-cold water on my face, the attack had faded, leaving me jittery and guilty and fuck…
I yelled at her.
My first words to her in weeks, and they’d been delivered with violence.
I flinched.
She’d asked me why I’d scolded her. Asked why I’d said such cutting things to her when Victor interrogated me all while I stood dripping in Kyle’s cold blood.
I’d snapped because she stood up to Victor even then.
I’d put her in her place because she was so much braver than me, so much better than me, and if Victor grew to know her resilience like I had, he’d do his utmost to break it.
It was the one thing I couldn’t protect her from in here.
The one man I wouldn’t be able to stop from taking her.
My only weapon was to belittle Ily to the point she became completely undesirable in his eyes. If I could reduce her to nothing and demean her to the point she lost all intrigue, then…she’ll be safe.