Page 25 of Haunted Hearts

“So am I.” I pause, grabbing Calli’s hand to stop her. I wrap her in my arms. It feels strange being able to do this with her. Like we are normal, despite being anything but.

“Thank you for this.” Her voice is muffled as she buries her face in my chest.

“For what?”

“Always knowing what I need.” She sighs and looks up at me with a smile. “I scared Gen. She looked at me like I had two heads after I destroyed that boulder.”

“Why?” Confusion was evident on my face.

“I don’t know. But I can’t even say I destroyed it. It was like…” Her words trail off. “I don’t know how to explain it, but she asked me what I am. I didn’t know how to respond.”

“Magic looks different with everyone, and she may not know many other people capable of it.”

“You could be right, but it just validated my insecurities about being different. I’m fine now; if anything, being with you makes me feel more normal than ever, more human. I’m happy. For the time being at least.”

I internally wince at the reminder. Maybe Gen is right, maybe Calli is different. I want her to be. But I can’t delude myself into hoping for a miracle. That’s why I chose a human form: I don’t know how much time I have with her.

“Well, good.” I kiss her forehead. “Because I intend on taking all of your time.”

CHAPTER 9 CADE

I scrape a match across the side of the box and the flame comes to life as I light the last candle in the room. Lucky I found a large stack of candles in the hall closet. The cabin is beginning to warm up after I spent over an hour trying to find wood that wasn’t wet from the snow and ice we’ve had in the last week. I warm my hands by the fire, admiring how clean I was able to get everything.

I take a moment to appreciate my work. It’s a quaint studio cabin and has everything one would need to be comfortable. Most important, it feels safe. The last time I was here was almost four years ago, and I was young, angry, and determined. I was going to make a plan, take out the Order, and come back here to live and die as I please.

After all these years, I’m still doing what they taught me, how they taught me. The only difference is now I know their intentions, though fucked-up, weren’t all delusional. Everything I know, they taught me. Manipulating me to do as they said. They painted it as if I was special. Even treated me as such.

There was a time I had hope. I took pride in my training, blissfully ignorant of what I was training for. That hope—that ignorance—died the day I witnessed the sacrifice. The look on the boy’s face—no older than myself at the time—the fear in his eyes, the blood staining his shirt, haunts me even now. His fast, desperate breathing. The sounds he made as they plunged that dagger into his chest.

A wave of discomfort takes me as I fight not to relive the memory.

I couldn’t save him… That’s what I told myself. The truth is—I didn’t try.

I watched it all, too shocked to move, to speak. I stood there in that ritual room and did nothing. I’ve spent so long chasing answers, trying to crush the part of me that helped them. I tell myself it was all for Calli, but I know deep down I wanted a reason to escape, to oppose them. I was weak, making quiet decisions they wouldn’t even notice and telling myself it was defiance.

But if I’m honest with myself, the only way I know how to kill that part of myself is by destroying them entirely.

But you… you brought out the part of me I thought I’d killed a long time ago.

I sink onto the couch nearest to the fireplace. The space feels warm and welcoming despite my train of thought. I take a moment to settle into the feeling—the fire bathing the room in an orange glow. I focus on my breathing, allowing myself to calm. I’m not there anymore. I survived.

I’m convinced I wouldn’t have survived without you. Do you have any idea what you have become to me? Love is something I have never considered, never thought I needed. I was born to fight, to hunt, to kill. You know this.

The closest thing to love I know is protecting something. I don’t even know how to protect you yet. Quite the opposite. You protect me.

Do you have any idea how fucking ironic that is? I suppose there is no need to make sense of everything. Especially what I do or don’t understand about love. Because if that is the case—if this is love—I have no more fight left in me. Not with you here.

Something washes over me. Relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s you.

The feeling never fails to consume me, like nothing outside of this moment exists. I catch myself clenching my jaw; calm is a feeling foreign to me, and it sits wrong. Despite how right it feels.

“You’re making me go mad.” I rake my fingers through my hair.

All I want is to drop to my knees and worship at your feet—just for a taste of your attention. To sink my teeth into the waistband of your pants, drag it down slowly while my hands slide between your thighs, feeling how warm you are… how ready…

I am desperate for you… in every conceivable way. The way you react to me? Even now… It drives me deeper into this madness.

I crave it.