Page 153 of Nocturne

Ara

The harsh reality of life is that it forces you to face the things you’ve buried deep, the things you never want to confront. And now, I’m drowning in them.

I’ve spent years clinging to the lies I told myself, the ones I told Iyra and Ivy, too. They could always see through the cracks, but I stayed firm, refusing to revisit those months, refusing to let the memories resurface. Even now, I’m not sure why I’m unravelling it all. Maybe because Harley forced me to. Maybe it's because I’m too tired to keep it locked away anymore.

It wasn’t just the guilt of killing those innocent women—though that alone could drown me. No, it’s more than that. So much more that I’ve shoved it into neat, impenetrable boxes and buried it deep. Yet, it always finds its way out, twisting my nights into nightmares and poisoning my thoughts when I’m alone.

Talking about it again is like tearing at old wounds, wounds I’d convinced myself had scarred over. But they’re raw and bleeding now, the pain more vivid than I expected. I’m forced to confront the truth: those months showed me exactly how weak I was. How pathetic. A pushover, a naive fool who couldn’t even save the one person who had kept her sane.

My hands tremble in my lap as I finish speaking, my voice a ghost of its former strength. The pain on my skin is not compared to anything that’s burning in my heart. Harley hasn’t moved since I began—she stands rigid, her sharp eyes burninginto me. There’s a cold fury there, the kind that simmers and waits for its moment to explode. I can’t hold her gaze for long.

When I glance at Vince, his expression is softer, tinged with something I can’t accept: sympathy. I look away, disgusted.

I don’t deserve sympathy. I don’t deserve pity. I killed them. I killed all those women. I killed them to survive, and nothing will ever change that.

The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. It gives me too much time to think, to feel the old fears clawing their way back to the surface. I focus on my breathing, trying to steady myself, trying to shove everything back into the mental cages I’ve built. But it’s harder now. The walls are crumbling.

Harley finally moves, her hands balled into fists at her sides, her jaw tight. I expect her to lash out, to throw the words I’ve been dreading. But when she speaks, her voice is low and controlled, even as tears burn in her eyes.

“You are a killer,” she says, each word clipped. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Vince steps closer to her, his hand brushing her shoulder. She flinches at first but doesn’t pull away. His touch seems to ground her, at least for a moment. When she turns back to me, the hatred is there again, a deep-seated need for vengeance burning brighter than before.

“Do whatever you want with me,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Kill me if you have to, but keep my family out of it.”

Harley’s eyes widen briefly, the surprise flashing before she schools her features. Then she laughs—a dark, unsettling sound that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Kill you?” she echoes, shaking her head. “Oh no, sweetheart. I have grander plans for you.”

The way she says it, with that eerie promise of pain, makes my stomach drop. Vince shifts uncomfortably, but he doesn’t contradict her.

“We need her compliant and willing,” Vince murmurs.

Compliant and willing? I frown at his words, but before I can question him, Harley smirks, the expression sharp and cruel.

“Oh, she’ll be compliant. Once she realises how well Devlin and I have closed off all her paths, she’ll have no other choice.”

My breath catches. Something in my heart threatens to break imagining that he was in with her.

“He knows?”

“Not yet,” Harley admits with a shrug. “But he will. Most of our plan depends on discretion, for now.”

“Our plan?” The words feel foreign on my tongue. “What plan?”

Harley’s smirk widens. “To bury that bastard Vir and his cult so deep that they’ll never crawl out.”

I’m already shaking my head, the memories of Vir and the horrors he wrought slamming into me. “I want nothing to do with any of that nightmare.”

Harley steps aside, revealing the bound men behind her. The bald one stirs, groaning as he tries to lift his head. Neither Harley nor Vince seems bothered by the sight.

“Why me?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. “You look capable of handling it yourself.”

Harley chuckles again, the sound cold. “Flattering, but Vir isn’t easy to kill. We need help.”

“There’s no we, Harley. I have a family. I’m not putting them on his radar.”

Her eyes narrow, and the sharpness in her voice cuts through me. “For someone so brilliant, you have your moments of idiocy. You’re already on his radar, sweetheart. You and everyone you love.”

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