Page 78 of Daughter of the Darkened City

She’d been avoiding that word since the moment she met Avenay, never letting it float to the surface. She tried to banish it. Because what a horrible thing for Avenay to have such a deep and lifelong connection to her. A connection Avenay would never be able to sever.

Enid laughed mirthlessly and Avenay quirked a brow.

“Why are you still here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Avenay asked, a challenge in her voice, steel in her eyes.

“Look at me, Avie. Just look at me.” Enid gestured to her disheveled state.

“I am.”

“How are you not disgusted?”

“Other than your stench, which a bath will fix quickly, I see no reason to be disgusted.”

Enid gaped. Avenay showed no signs of moving. Her face was neutral, maybe even curious. Tears formed again, this time falling down her face. Enid was in that horrible, horrible place between sober and drunk where she was aware enough to be horrified by what she did, and not in control enough to stop it.

Avenay’s brow furrowed, and she made a small “oh,” sound as she shifted to come to her.

Enid hated it. Because she was weak.

Again.

As always. Costing others their lives and suffering.

She stood to her feet too quickly, stumbling as everything shifted. But she powered on. She left the room, padding down the hall, going to the hot spring bathhouse. It was mercifully empty, and she didn’t bother undressing before she lumbered into the water.

Her entire body felt dirty. Disgusting. Horrible. She wanted the heat of the spring to cleanse her inside and out, but how could she? She stood in the water, savoring how the heat made her skin grow red and angry. As red and angry as she was with herself. The tears kept fallingand she couldn’t stop them. They became so heavy that her breaths escaped in ragged bursts and her shoulders shook with sobs.

Stop it.

But she couldn’t. They still poured out.

Because all of this had cracked open a dam inside her, a dam she’d always hid her emotions behind, and now they rushed out with a violence that was staggering, memories dirtying the flood.

Her parents lying there, dying. Kaemon being dragged away by Hunters. Dryston saving her.

She remembered sobbing into Dryston’s chest and him telling her it would be alright. Then she’d found Kaemon again. He hadn’t died.

Because he’d been captured.

Tortured.

Abused.

Hunted.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

And that should have been her. Instead, she’d managed to be nothing but a fuck up that caused Dryston problems and hurt everyone around her.

She was useless.

Worthless.

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