Page 39 of Be My Sacrifice

“Hello, husband. Are you not happy to see me on this celebratory occasion of your marriage, or would that be your death?”

Chapter twenty-five

The Sinner

Dinah

Thosebrightemeraldeyesstare back at me as if lit with an inner light. The ones that had fascinated me as a child, with how vibrant and otherworldly they were.Fae eyes. I used to think he was a long-lost elven prince when I was a girl, and I was infatuated with him. Eyes that tempted me as a grown woman to give him everything of myself. I laid my soul open, hoping he would not hurt me, but instead protect me. Eyes that deceived, and used all those around him to get what he wanted. Eyes that now I want to rip out of his lying, deceitful skull.

The shock on his face didn’t dissipate at the sight of me, but he paled further, a fine trembling taking over his limbs, as I got a first really good look at him.Damaged, broken, destroyed—those are the words that immediately pop into my mind at his appearance.Traitor, liar, and deceiverimmediately follow. He is beautiful in a shattered sort of way, the way all things are once the shiny and new wears off.

I can see bruises marring parts of his face and where his skin is exposed. One of his eyes is black and swollen shut, the other red with an angry gash across his eyebrow. His lips are split and bruised, as is his stubble-covered jaw. His body hunches in on itself as if in pain, or maybe his ribs are broken. I’m not sure and, at this moment, don’t care, let him suffer. The hand that holds the blade looks odd, as if a few of his fingers are bent unnaturally, and yet, he once again looks villainous holding it. Even as it seems to be an extension of himself. That shiny blade that could cut so deep, and destroy a whole person’s world with just one thrust, like it had mine. From his place on his knees, I can’t tell the extent of his injuries, but one thing is certain, someone has done a number on him.

The part that lays dormant inside of me, that still has feelings for him and remembers the Zeke from my youth who used to sneak me sweets and carry me on his young shoulders, almost steps towards him. Pity tries to rise within me, traveling like a desperate wave throughout my body, but then the memories of him plunging that blade deep inside of me overtake it.

How, even as I lay dying by his own hand, he had refused my request. How he let me go to my death, knowing that he betrayed me and would do nothing to save the others. Even though that turned out to be a falsehood, he still allowed what he believed my last seconds on this earth to be filled with utter, cruel despair. Whatever pain he is feeling at the moment, it isn’t enough. It would never be enough to repay what I had suffered at his hands.

My body stills, and an arctic temperature begins to fill the spaces where that compassion tried its best to rise to the surface and take root. No, forgiveness and sympathy are beyond me now, and the best he can hope for is clemency, and I wouldn’t hold my breath for that, and neither should he.

“Not... possible. You’re a... ghost,” his voice trembles as he hastily releases the crying girl’s hand, and the blade clatters to the ground, never taking his shocked eyes off of me. The blonde crawls away from him as if he were possessed, cradling her hand against her chest and sullying the perfection of the white of her dress, with the crimson of his blood.

An evil smirk lifts the corners of my mouth at his fear and disbelief. I take two steps forward, allowing the light from the moon to break through the window and paint me in a ghastly white light, as the candlelight surrounding us gives off a warm glow. I know what he’s seeing, what has him petrified. I am a mirage, a ghost, a deadly angel who has come to pass judgment on the living. I am vengeance walking in the flesh, willing and able to take his life in payment for mine. He should be more than scared; he should be horrifically terrified at the sight of me before him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, husband. It seems you failed to end my life.” My voice is sure, strong, and deadly, without any inflection of warmth or compassion. My eyes narrow on his, almost daring him to deny my accusation.

He tries to scramble off his knees, a pained groan leaving those distressed lips as he attempts to shuffle closer, but I raise the gun still in my grip and point it at his head. He freezes comically to a standstill, one hand raised as if to touch the apparition before him. “Snow…”

“I wouldn’t move any closer, Ezekiel. Unlike you, I will make sure I murder my spouse before moving on to the next.”

“Please… this can’t be real.” The heated but awestruck look in his eyes tries to warm me with its touch. It attempts to sear inside of me, trying to flay me open, and cutting to the deepest part of me. That look calls to me, beseeching me to forgive him his trespasses against me. In its emerald depths, I see so many things. Things that he had hidden from me, perhaps even from himself. That one look has the power to stop me. It could decimate me if I allowed it to.

Then his eyes shift from mine to the man behind me as he, too, moves out of the shadows and into the light, and all the emotions I had seen buried in the depths of his eyes just now are dull compared to the agony and pain I now witness. From horror to overwhelming joy and sorrow, all mixed up as one. As his emotions cross his face, it is undisguisable as Ezekiel Rothesay gets his first look at Abraham Mercier since the attack that almost took all their lives. The man he loves and chose to save instead of me. The man who, even now, he would make the same choice for. I know it with a certainty in my very soul. He would never let Abe die, not if he had another choice of who he could sacrifice in his place.

“Abe… it’s… fuck, it’s… good to see you.” A tear slides down the side of Zeke’s battered face as his hands shake in front of him. So overcome with emotion at the sight of the man he truly loves. The hardened organ in my chest clenches at the sight of his emotions. A part of me hurts that I didn’t get that reaction from him. While he was shocked and perhaps relieved that he didn’t, in fact, murder me, it was nothing in comparison to the emotions overwhelming him at Abe’s appearance at my side.

Abe’s body stiffens next to me as his eyes meet Zeke’s and hold his gaze for a moment, before ripping away from him, and turning his attention to me without ever acknowledging Zeke’s greeting.Cold, angry, and disillusioned, that’s my Abe. While I know that he still loves the battered man in front of him, he will not forgive his actions so quickly. The question is, will he be able to live without him if I decide to end his life?

My eyes search the room, looking for Sammy, his large form missing from my immediate view. The need rising inside of me to get my arms around him is becoming almost unbearable, as the rebels secure the space.Where is he? Is he alright?As the seconds tick by and I don’t see any sign of him, my heart lurches into my throat, making it impossible to swallow or even get a breath in through the panic.

Where is he? Is he gone? Dead? Will I never see him again?No! He has to be here. I would know if he was truly gone from this earth. My heart would feel the loss, wouldn’t it? Those thoughts travel rapidly through my mind, one after the other. Then the menacing sensation of dread begins to creep along my limbs, invading every inch of me, oozing from my pores, contaminating me with its poison, and I know without any doubt I will set this world on fire if he is truly gone.

My hand rises once again with my gun firmly clutched in my fingers, and I fire just past the spot where Ezekiel still remains, broken on the floor. The gun blast is loud, and echoes in the space, causing the young woman in white to screech in fright, and Abe to take hasty steps away from me.Weakling.

The remaining rebels in the room come to a complete halt, staring at me and, I’m sure, wondering if I have finally lost my damn mind. The surety of it almost makes an unhinged cackle leave my lips. I will lose more than my mind if Sammy isn’t found in the next few minutes.

Ezekiel, however, doesn’t even flinch. His eyes return to mine and become shuttered, giving nothing away. It is as if a curtain has been drawn over his emotions, and he has now hidden them behind an opaque fabric.Kill him, shoot him right between his traitorous eyes, the monster within me demands, and yet I ignore it.

“Where is Sammy?” The air tightens in my throat with my words, as I realize without any sense of remorse, that I will slaughter everyone in this room if Sammy is no longer breathing. He has to be alive. I can’t have lost him. I refuse to even acknowledge the possibility.

Yet no response is immediately uttered by those intimate with his whereabouts. We stare at each other in silence for seconds, minutes, or however long. I realize that in that moment of visceral pain that is invading my heart inch by inch, Ezekiel Rothesay has all he needs to destroy me. Just one word from his lips could send my precarious sanity careening off a ledge. Just one tiny word would unmake me. Shatter my heart and everything about me. Just one adjective from his traitorous lips could end everything I was, and would ever be, with a momentous crash.

Ezekiel Rothesay, in that moment, has the power not only to emotionally scar me, but to end my whole world, and rip everything I have held onto from me. The reason for my return from darkness cannot be gone, and I will not believe fate would be so cruel as to let me live, but take him away from me.

With a sense of panic, I realize I have no failsafe to protect myself. Sammy was and has always been my failsafe, and if he is gone, so would be everything that was still alive inside of me. I would be empty and raw.

One word from Ezekiel Rothesay’s lips will determine life or death for everyone in this room, even my own. Does he understand the power that he holds over me? Over the very essence of those breathing within these walls?

Vile darkness starts to crawl within me, with its murky tendrils of ink invading all of my parts, trying its best to lure me back to the edge of insanity. It promises me retribution and sweet destruction, if only I will allow the monster that resides in me out of its cage. It craves the blood, the death, the everlasting oppression of those who have wronged me. It batters at the bars of its cage, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal, demanding to be set free. My hand holds the key inside the lock, and with one quick turn of my fingers, the world will burn.

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