Page 130 of Lethal King

“Shortened for fallen angel, of course,” I say. “It’s hard to believe, but even I know you used to be innocent.”

It’s only supposed to be a joke, but I can’t help but remember what Gabriel told me. His stories drift over our heads like a dark rain cloud.

Rozalia was once an ordinary girl—until that life was brutally stolen from her.

A heaviness crushes our playful mood. I regret bringing it up, even before Rozalia responds.

“You’ve been talking to Gabriel,” she sneers, the subtle smirk wiped from her face.

When she tries to push herself off me, I wrestle myself back on top of her.

“He had a lot to say about you,” I say, wishing I could extinguish the horrors of her past. Wishing I could fix her.

But I know that kind of wish comes at a price.

Without those struggles, she wouldn’t be the Black Cat.

She wouldn’t be my Black Cat.

Would I still be obsessed with her if she was just like every other girl?

“All lies,” Rozalia spits.

“They must have been,” I agree, studying her carefully. “Imagine you being innocent.”

When she tries to wrap her leg around mine again, I slam my knee into the ground and spread her thighs out. She’s not tricking me twice.

“What about you?” she asks, spite lashing from her perfect lips. “Was the great Irish lion ever innocent?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I was never innocent. But I wasn’t always so great.”

“You still aren’t.”

“Maybe you’re right...”

Those stunning green eyes glare up at with me with all the hate in the world. But unlike before, that hate doesn’t burn alone anymore. It’s joined by something else. Something I can feel, but can’t quite describe.

“You’ve made so many mistakes,” Rosalia whispers.

My nose hovers an inch above hers. Our lips practically touch. I can taste her hot breath.

“You’re the biggest one.”

“No,” she says, a darkness coming over her. “You weren’t on the west coast because of me.”

My chest tightens.

How does she know about that?

A barrage of shameful and dark memories threaten to break through the levy holding them back.

“You don’t know shit,” I growl.

Planting my fists into the ground, I push myself off of her. A cold gust fills up the empty air between us. But I try not to linger on it as I storm for the door.

“Where are you going?” Rozalia asks, rising to her feet.

“To find Leander,” I grunt.