Page 55 of A Twisted Gift

“You’re making a mistake, Raina,” Father says, his voice desperate. “He’ll abandon you the second you’ve fulfilled your purpose. He’ll kill you, just like he did to your brothers. He’s only using you to get to me.”

“Him? Never.” I turn to face Erik, beaming up at him. “There’s only one person in this world who’d do anything for me, and it’s him.”

“God, I love you,” Erik whispers before kissing me softly.

I can feel how much he’s holding back. How much it kills him to step away from me and turn his focus back to Father.

“Don’t kill me. Please—”

“Oh, I won’t.” A grim smile slides over Erik’s face. “She will.”

Father’s expression morphs into one of horror. “W-what? Raina, no. You don’t want to do this. You love me. This will turn into something you regret.”

I shake my head. “All my life, you’ve forced me to carry so much pain. I shouldered it all, hoping that one day it’d be enough. That you’d finally love me. That maybe Danny and Benjamin would, too. But it was never enough.Icould never be enough for you.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Father squirms against the lights, but I bound him too tightly. “I can make it up to you.”

“Do you know how much it hurts?” I ask, my voice perfectly even. “To be hated by the ones you love with your whole heart? To wish they’d care but knowing they never will?”

“Raina, I—”

“You don’t know.” I flip open my knife, just the way Erik taught me to this afternoon. “And you don’t really care.”

Gripping the handle, I slash the blade across my father’s face. He cries out, and it sets something right inside of me. I’ve been dreaming of vengeance since I was small, but I couldn’t do it on my own. Now, though… now, I’m not alone.

Never in my life have I been able to stand in front of my father like this without a fear of consequences gripping my throat and holding me back. But now Charles is the one who’s trapped, and for the first time in my life, I’m protected.

I’mfree.

“This is for my mother.” I stab his thigh, yanking the knife free and watching blood soak into his pants. “This is for every time you hit me.” A stab in his other thigh. “For every time you locked me in my room.” Another. “For never accepting me as one of your own.”

Another, another, another. Each time I sink the knife into his flesh—feel it split, hear his screams, watch his tears fall—I give him another reason. I go until we’re both covered in blood and I only have one thing left.

Charles is barely conscious, so I doubt I have much time. When I turn to Erik, his eyes are filled with pride. He reaches for me, thumbing away some of the splattered blood on my cheek.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

“Is there anything else you want to say to him?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Please,” Charles wheezes. “E… enough.”

“One more.” I lean in close and press the knife to his throat, reveling in the fact that I can do this. That he can’t hurt meanymore. “This is for Erik. For stealing me away from him and for killing his parents. For all the pain you’ve caused him.”

Then, just like Erik did earlier, I drag the knife across my father’s throat, making sure to cut deep. Blood gushes everywhere, and Charles passes out almost immediately.

“Goodbye,” I whisper, not with remorse or longing. It’s a release, watching the man who hurt me so much die at my own hands. It’s every bit as satisfying as I thought it would be.

And even better, now no one can keep Erik and I apart.

“Raina,” Erik says, his voice soft, reverent.

I turn to find him staring at me, his lips slightly parted and his eyes tracking me closely. Like a predator right before it pounces on its dinner. Sharp focus, silent movements, and something near-wild in his expression.

Heat stirs low in my stomach, desire slipping into my veins.

“Yes?”

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