Page 136 of Juniper Unraveling

I’m still awake, when the door opens then clicks shut. With my back to Rhys, I lie with a million thoughts running through my head—namely, why I’m still lying in his bed. Surrounded by the skulls of victims who probably died as horrifically. Ones I just assume were equally bad people.

It’s not having watched Ivan die a brutal death that I find troubling, though. He’s committed more sickening crimes to others, and by all accounts, probably deserved a worse fate than that.

I want to say that it was the look on Rhys’s face. No emotion. No hesitation. No control.

That’s really what I should be questioning right now, what a normal person would be questioning. After all, I’ve been in the throes of his grip before, waiting for death to steal me away.

For whatever reason, though, he stopped with me. He grappled for a minute over his control, but he stopped.

I wish my confliction had anything to do with the fear that he might possibly do the same to me during one of his blackouts, but they’re not.

I don’t fear Rhys. I never have. Not even now, having watched his brutality first hand.

And that’s what frightens me most. Had I not said anything about Ivan, perhaps he’d have been spared, but a small part of me wouldn’t have accepted such an injustice. I know this. It’s why I told Rhys my darkest secret, one I vowed never to tell anyone. The shadowed side of my head wished for this, and by confessing my pain, I sent Rhys on a mission of revenge.

Because I’m sick. And so is he. We’re the perfect, twisted match, destined for pain like a sad tragedy.

The moth who fell in love with the flame.

He’s the reaper, and I’m his disciple.

Perhaps the old woman was right. Maybe I am a witch. Maybe the evil of Calico that once seeped into my bones has been awakened. That I feel nothing for Ivan is proof my skin has become numb, my heart as cold as the vengeance that runs through my blood.

The same vengeance that guided Rhys’s reaping hands.

The crunching gravel sounds his pacing back and forth. It stops. An expelled breath and a groan. Quiet follows.

The bed dips, and I squeeze my eyes shut, tucking myself into a tight ball away from him.

I inwardly flinch at the touch of his hands along the edge of my body and the short spike of his hair that presses into my spine. He peppers kisses over my skin, his hands trembling against me, so soft, like whispers dancing over the surface.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His quiet voice is hardly discernible, but I feel his apology riding the heat of his breath across my back.

I close my eyes, allowing the gathered tears to fall against the cotton pillow, as the truth surfaces over the chaos inside my head.

I’ve fallen in love with a monster.

And, perhaps, so has he.

Chapter 39

Red sits in the corner of the cavern, poking a stick into the dirt, and I plop down beside her.

“Ain’t the same without Crank,” she says, tossing the stick away.

I wish his death was the only thing on my mind, but it isn’t. “It’s hard to survive a femoral shot. I knew the moment they laid him down he wouldn’t make it.”

Her brows pinch, and she nods. “I know. No sense in moping around over it. Too much work to be done.”

“Where’d Rhys go?” I ask, keeping my gaze locked on the tunnel across from us, where Ratchet half-heartedly stands guard, carving a stick with his blade.

“A sweep. One of the soldiers got loose last night. Took off. They think Ragers might’ve gotten him.”

“Lea? I’m not stupid. I saw what happened to him.” I turn and see her snap her gaze away from mine. “Where’s Damian? The other guard?”

“Still tied up.”

“Yeah. Do you think one of them would’ve taken off without the other? I’m guessing not.” I push to my feet, and she grabs hold of my arm.