Page 107 of Paper Thin Love

The moment my fist slams into his side, pain radiates through my knuckles like fire, but I don’t stop. My mind blanks, focused on one thing—bringing him down. I drive my fist into him again. Then again. The sound of my fists pounding against flesh echoes in the chaos, and I land four fast, brutal punches. My body moves on instinct, unrelenting, fueled by the need to feel one of his ribs crack beneath my knuckles.

I won’t stop until I hear it. Until I feel his body break.

Mila’s face flashes in my vision. It’s like she’s a breath of life awakening something truly feral and monstrous inside of me. My next inhale is sharp and pained, as if I’m a newborn, never having truly breathed in the purpose of life before.

That’s when it all clicks. What the true meaning of love is. It is a purpose, like a godly being, that gives me strength yet threatens to damn me all at once.

Love is the most forgiving thing I’ve ever encountered. Love forgets because it needs to in order to survive. Love endures so it can continue to grow. My love is the reason why I feel, and it’s those tidal waves of opposing emotions that don’t allow me to utter the words back to Mila.

Jared lunges for me. I turn slowly and purposefully, but I barely escape him. It was worth it because as I glance at Mila. She doesn’t notice. That panicked look of fear in her eyes pumps more adrenaline into my blood.

If I don’t kill this fucker, he will kill Mila slowly.

With a swift, calculated move, I drive my heel into Jared’s ankle. The force is brutal, and his balance wavers. He stumbles, tripping over his own feet. The moment I hear the unnatural twist of bone, I know I’ve got him. His ankle buckles beneath him, sending him crashing toward the ground.

But I don’t wait for him to fall. I lunge forward, adrenaline surging through me. Just as his body teeters in midair, I leap, twisting with precision. My foot cuts through the air, and I drive it straight into his jaw with a sickening crack. The impact sends his head snapping to the side, his neck twisting violently. His eyes glaze over, rolling back as he collapses, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

For a moment, the world holds its breath. The crowd is silent, stunned by the force of the blow. Then, as if on cue, a murmur spreads through them, growing louder. Their eyes are fixed on Jared’s body, but his chest rises—barely, but enough. He’s still breathing.

The crowd erupts, roaring for more, their bloodlust ignited by the sight of life still clinging to him.

“Is your opponent unmoving, Dash King?”One of the conductors ask.

Clearly fucker.

I know what they want. They want me to make a decision. To hold life in my hands then either allow it to live or snuff it out.

I wish I had the strength not to look at Mila. I can see that her body would have fallen to the ground if it wasn't for Dante, still grasping her, forcing her upright. The look in her wide, hazel eyes is that of a plea that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

It’s her pleas that I can never answer. I can never give Mila what she wants, but I can give her what she needs in order to live. She needs her enemies vanquished, and who better to do that than a soulless king. I could never let Jared live after this. A man out for revenge only ever has that taste on his tongue.

Mercy.

That’s what her lips are trying to tell me.

Killing him is the mercy, little fox.

I shake my head then turn toward Jared. I flex my fingers. I’ve never killed with my bare hands before, there is something disgustingly primal about it. As if in doing so will change the threads of my fate.

This is my life. Some moments are worthy of hanging on the wall, whereas others are patchwork quilts tossed aside into a moth-filled cabinet, slowly being chewed on until bare strings are left.

This, I flex my tingling fingers, is who I was raised to be.

There’s a classic question on the tip of my tongue, Chicken or the egg? What came first, the taste for violence or the need to survival?

I kick Jared. He doesn’t move except from my impact. He’s unconscious. I wish he were awake and wildly fighting. Killing him that way would make me feel better. I swing my leg over his hips, crouching down and then I stretch out my hands as I prepare to choke the life from him.

Finally I hear it, the roaring shouts, the panicked gasps from my fellow students. I don’t peel my eyes off of Jared yet somehow I can feel Cillian’s eyes widen with hope, his large shoulders expanding as he relaxes knowing I’m about to win. Knowing that fucker, he will want to eat his weight after this.

I sense Dante too but he’s not as relaxed as Cillian. His eyes are more stoic, ever pondering the fate that binds us all together.

I wonder what Titan and Damian, my cousins would think of me now. Maybe they are doing the same thing but somewhere else.

I grab Jared’s neck, his skin is hot and slick from the fight, a mixture of sweat and blood coats the tips of my fingers. He makes no reaction. I feel the faint pulse under my index finger. One finger with the tip of a life on it.

Then I squeeze, his face reddens as I begin to choke the will power from his heart. A part of me feels like I’m sacrificing a little piece of affection Mila and I hold for one another. She will hate me after this.

Chapter 43

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