Page 156 of The Cannibal

The chatter among the witnesses erupted, the representatives easing back their commentary. Filthy, crooked bastards.

“Silence!” the tall man yelled amid the chaos, turning back to Levi. “Are you sure of this?”

“Of course! All of this has been so strenuous.” He gestured around the room. “It would please me if we all could come to an agreement. We are very few as a species, is it not better to preserve what we have?”

“It is up to you as the prosecuting party,” he said carefully.

“Then I say we end this arduous process and celebrate.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “The deal has been accepted.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Silas hissed.

I placed the small stack of papers on the table and pushed it forward.

Silas stared down at them.

One of the assistants collected them. Silas’s eyes followed them until they landed in his father’s hands. Levi flipped through the pages, checking that each one was signed. He held them up for all to see. “This is how you do diplomacy. A selfless sacrifice that benefits all of us, not just a few.”

The representatives looked pleased, a small applause as they stood one by one. A growingly confused crowd of witnesses joined slowly.

The way they looked at me was nothing short of concern. The expressions of the crowd compared to the representatives were like day and night. Then I realized they were just coming to the same conclusion I did—that this race was fixed. The trial wasn’t about justice, it was about bending to their will.

“As a token of gratitude for your sacrifice, my son,” Levi grinned, “all is forgiven.”

Everyone stood from their seats, shaking each other’s hands and patting backs. I stayed seated, watching it all unfold. Men were simple, painfully so. Their greed and egos put blinders on them, like carriage horses.

I finally looked to Silas, his eyes trained on me.

Something so helpless in him.

I shook my head slowly before taking my leave, Mr. Astor’s security tailing my heel, protecting the acquisition. Levi’s new property is all they saw.

All my Creature could do was as I said—do not engage. The longing could only follow with a look as he watched me go.

Soon the celebratory garble faded as I retired.

They were too obsessed with the anticipation of the slaughter to notice the lamb had wandered off.

There would be no sleep tonight, only more time to prepare.

I sat in the sill of the open window, braiding half of my hair up and pinning it into a comfortable position. A couple loose curls framing my face. I took breaks in between pinning. Even with a new, dangerous body, my arms still grew weary from doing my hair.

I wove pieces of dried wolfsbane into the braids, a laurel of sharp violet blooms upon my head. Even my dear toxic blooms smelled different to me now. Sweeter than ever, they’d lost quite a bit of their bite.

The doors to my room burst open, slapping against the walls as they were flung, the noise alarming at such a late hour. Silas stormed through, his breathing was hard, with clenched fists.

Sidney reached in to pull the doors closed. “Be quick, and be quiet,” he scolded Silas.

The light curtains billowed. I clutched the frame of the window, waiting.

He lunged, a hand placed on either side of me on the sill. Then his lips met mine, and I did not care if I fell off our home again. I’d fall for him as many times as I could.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as I leaned back, the breeze combing through my hair and sweeping us in the scent of Aconitum flowers.

“I can’t do this,” he said between kisses. “Goddamn you, I can’t!”

“You know it’s the only way.” I tipped my head back, feeling the cool breeze on my lashes and the moonlight on my skin. “Freedom is on the tips of our tongues. I can taste it now.”

His strong arm scooped under my back, the other hand reaching up to brush his fingertip over my left brow and lashes, like he was taking into account every curve of my face, every pore of skin, every piece of me stored away deep in an archive if all goes wrong.