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But then, he dropped all his obedience and cocked his chin. “Fuck it.” Baring his teeth, he snarled, “Do whatever you want to me. I won’t do a thing to stop you. But…leave her out of it. Whatever you think we’ve done? It was all me. She had nothing to do with anything.”
My heart fucking sank.
And I knew.
All of it.
Everything we’d planned.
All our hope.
Over.
Victor smiled. “That’s not how this works, Peter dear. You’re on clean-up. As always. Only once you’ve done your duty shall I deal with you.”
I almost threw up on my shoes.
Despair howled down the tunnel and pounced.
Every ounce of depression.
Every horror and misery, every desolation and melancholy found me, snatched me, and turned off every flicker of light left inside me.
I would die down here.
We would all die down here.
This wasn’t a procession to whatever game Victor had planned.
It was our funeral march.
And I needed to get on my knees and repent.
To confess and atone so when the time came for my life to end, I might stand a minuscule chance at following Ily into the next life.
Because Peter and her…they’d travel together.
They’d find each other again.
Both of them pure enough to deserve a worthwhile existence.
But me?
Fuck me?
After the things I’d done.
The things I wanted to do.
Twin flame or not…I wouldn’t be allowed to go with her.
Sighing happily, Victor twisted to face the front, pushed Ily between her shoulders, and we were all moving again.
Closer and closer.
Nearer and nearer…
Until finally—
