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My words are ironic, considering I once thought the same. But I hadn’t known her then. And he supposedly knows her. Rage engulfs me. A small part of my anger is likely misplaced. Perhaps it’s anger at myself, for also assuming so little of her.
But he deserves the reckoning coming his way.
I drop the boy on the ground.
He coughs and gags, rubbing his throat. Quickly, he pulls himself to a stand, widening his eyes at me.
“I never told you her name,” he says hoarsely.
“Oh, but she told me yours.” I grin. “She told me all about how selfish you are. How you’re unable to bring a woman even the most simplistic forms of pleasure.”
It’s a gross exaggeration, but based on the way Felix’s face contorts with shock, then anger, and finally settles on disgust, it was worth it.
“You’re fecking her,” he says, shaking his head. “You gods-damned monster!”
He charges at me, but I’m quicker.
Swiftly, I pull a blade from my pocket, flicking it open. I press it against his throat, stopping him in his tracks. My other hand grips the back of his neck, holding him in place.
When he swallows, his skin presses against the blade a bead of blood appears.
“I never denied what I am, but I also never denied what Alessia is capable of.”
I let go of his neck, grasping his wrist instead. He doesn’t even fight me. Just stands there, petrified. It’s laughable, really.
“Your hands might not have put those marks on Alessia,” I say, “but they did nothing to protect her, either.”
“What marks?” he whispers.
I scoff. “You will never touch a woman again. Not for pleasure. And certainly not for pain.”
Before he can react, I bring the knife down on his wrist, slicing through flesh, bone, and tendon as if it’s cake—tender and moist. With the blade made of faerie iron, it meets no resistance.
His hand hits the grass with a thud.
It’s instantaneous.
Blood spurts from the stump of Felix’s wrist before he realizes what has happened.
A moment later, the pain hits and he screams in agony.
The metallic, tangy scent of human blood hits the air and my face scrunches. My eyes flicker, holding their cobalt form. I had intended to slice both hands off, but leave the boy with his life. In case Alessia truly does care for him.
Or incase she wanted to seek her own revenge.
But as the blood stains the grass beneath us, a long, animalistic growl rips from my throat. My body grows hot, as if I’m burning alive. And I need it to stop.
Need it to—
I lunge at Felix.
No longer myself.
Giving myself over fully to—
Crunch.
Something slams into me, pressing me into the ground. Claws press down on my hands, breaking my bones with their weight.
