Page 35 of Monstrous Grave

“You don’t even fucking know me!”

My throat stings from the shrillness of my voice, and I clench the handle behind me even tighter, the sensation of metal cooling my palm.

An amused smirk stretches his lips, his anger evaporating from his demeanor with no trace of it, as if it were never there to begin with.

“Oh, how wrong you are, little sister.”

Chapter 15

Arcane

His words echo in the recesses of my mind, haunting me with their taunts. He might as well have dragged a knife through my heart, tearing through flesh and bone to reach it, before carving it out and tossing it over the edge of the cliffs outside. Acid rises in my throat, leaving a sour burn.

He stands there menacingly with his shoulders relaxed and arms slumped to the sides—casual. How isn’t he more unnerved by this?

He’s lying.

He cocks an eyebrow while waiting for my reaction, but I avoid his gaze, swiping mine over the cottage to find something I can use against him. He probably thinks I pose no threat to him, might believe his words got to me, making me reconsider my actions. Well, like I said, he doesn’t fucking know me.

“I don’t know who you are.” My words are nearly drowned by the waves outside.

If I repeat those words enough times, they will ring true, and I will no longer feel as if I’m suffocating. Scanning the room, I see a gun—my gun—on top of the drawer closest to me.

His eyes land on it, his stance rigid as he looks at me with a narrowed gaze, waiting for the moment I will strike and he will chase.

Seconds pass as I remain unmoving, finally coming to a decision. Without another moment to spare, I beeline for the gun, grabbing it before turning the handle, slipping out to the windy world outside—away from the memories dredging up within.

I keep running, the storm intensifying. To my horror, I realize I’m farther away than I’ve ever been before, not recognizing my surroundings, especially not the small cottage behind me. But it’s undeniably the cliffs I’ve been to for years, grieving the person I lost and who I used to be.

Glancing back, I see him advancing with angered, resolute strides. Every muscle screams as I push my legs to their limits. Surrounding us, only barren lands stretch for miles, with nowhere to hide in sight. Relentless waves crash against the cliffside, allowing rain to spray over me, and harsh winds impede my process.

The tumultuous cacophony of the wind and waves wreaks inside my eardrums, masking any sound of Viper’s pursuit behind me. A glimmer of hope ignites as the scattered trees gradually thicken the deeper into the woods I come. Slowing my pace, I risk a glance over my shoulder.

He’s gone.

I stagger toward a sturdy tree, seeking refuge as I lean against its trunk. Adrenaline and fear shoot through my body, a lethal concoction threatening to rob me of precious oxygen and plunge me into a dizzying feeling of faintness. Casting another apprehensive glance over my shoulder, I find no sign of him amidst the storm.

Didn’t he chase me at all? I’m certain I heard someone trailing behind me, but the tempestuous weather made it hard to be sure.

Scrambling to reach the phone he miraculously left in my leather jacket pocket, I clutch the gun in my other hand, desperation urging me forward. I fumble to unlock my phone before I locate Alec’s saved contact, knowing he’ll always have my back as my best friend.

Before I can dial, it clutters to the ground, and an ominous presence stands before me. A mask covers his face, commanding my attention with a chilling touch. A suffocating lump lodges in my throat like an immovable stone. I’m all alone, with no one for miles to save me.

“There’s nowhere you can hide from me, devangel. I will find you. Every. Goddamn. Time,” he growls, squeezing my already aching throat.

Wide-eyed, I stare at him, terror slithering through me like a fiery torrent.

Eventually, fear gives way to anger, radiating through me in waves. Summoning every ounce of strength, I use the self-defense techniques taught by the Valentis to kick at his leg, causing him to groan and step back. The brief reprieve allows me to push him away, raising the gun to his forehead. Despite my best efforts, I can’t hide the tremors racking my body, or how I’m crumbling apart on the inside.

Oh God.

I feel sick. The sickening wave of truth threatens to overwhelm me as if I might spill the contents of my stomach.

The realization hits me like a sledgehammer—he can’t be here, it can’t be true. He’s supposed to be dead. He died five fucking years ago, leaving me to fend for myself. Oh fucking God.

He glares as I aim the gun, adjusting my stance for stability. The wind whips around us, even amidst the dense trees. I can’t afford to waver for one second, or it will shatter my resolve. His demeanor is infuriatingly cocky, and even if his face remains hidden behind the mask, the familiarity of his arrogance makes memories come rushing back. I’m seconds away from pulling the trigger, but despite my determination, my hands tremble too much, making it impossible for me to get a good aim. I’m going to fucking puke.

His betrayal pushes down on me as if a monster has come to drag me to the depths of hell. I’m forced to keep steady, even as the coldness of the wind makes me shiver.

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