Page 163 of Caelum

But I didn’t utter those harsh words; instead, I ground out, “You want to break our hearts?”

This time, her tension tripled. “N-No,” she stuttered. “But I couldn’t?—”

“Bullshit,” I told her fiercely, pressing my forehead to hers. “You Chose us, Eve. I know you didn’t grow up knowing this stuff, but this week… surely you’ve seen what that means?

“Frazer, Reed, and Samuel were men we considered our fuckingenemies, but we’re getting cozy with them on the regular because of you. You saw how often we fought, with words and fists. We loathed each other. But we’re making this work because of you. Because you Chose us and that means something to us.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me, because of this craziness I’ve brought into your lives.”

Her tears began to fall, and I tilted my head to the side so I could press my lips to one tiny diamond-bright trail. The saltiness on my tongue felt bittersweet. I was sure that, until her, I’d been half alive, and here she was, focused on my death. On the deaths of the men I considered brothers, and of those whom, because of her and with time, would become the same to me.

“Our destiny is to be hurt,” I told her quietly, and when she stiffened and tried to pull away from me, I hauled her close and stopped her. “Hush. I’m still sore,” I informed her, playing on my injuries for all they were worth. “You don’t want to hurt me more, do you?”

When my sly comment had her forcing herself to relax, I watched as she gnawed on her bottom lip for a second before stating, “That was a mean thing to say.”

Perhaps. But it had worked.

Her desire to not hurt us would be her downfall. If we were bastards, that is.

“What you still don’t understand about Caelum,meu amor, is that we’re being raised to be soldiers. Soldiers go to war. They don’t stay at home and count sheep for a living. They go out to the frontline and they?—”

She whimpered. “No. Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Her eyelids fluttered. “You kill people,” she whispered, and the pain on her face had me hurting for her.

“Yes. We do.” How did I tell her that, by the time I was fourteen, I already had blood on my hands?

“It’s like in the movies you make me watch,” she rasped.

“Yes. Sometimes, it’s worse. Ghouls are evil beings,Coração, and you have to understand that. Whatever we do to them, they’ll do worse things to us.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, and she pushed her face away from mine. For a second, I thought she was pulling away, and that pained me worse than anything I’d experienced since my return from Aboh. Then, she soothed that ache by burrowing into me, her face pushing into my throatwith an ease that made me feel like we’d known each other for a decade or more, not just months.

“Death is a part of our world, Eve,” I told her. “Not just Caelum’s world, but the human world. You know that. You saw it on the compound. You dealt with it there, and you’ll deal with it here.”

“But you’re different.”

I knew she meant ‘you’ in the plural sense. “Because you Chose us.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I did, but my souls… they seemed to know what I needed.” She shivered. “Who I needed.”

“Yes, they did. You need us, Eve. Not just because we can keep you safe, but because we’re the only ones who can balance you.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “You know the Ghoul population is like sixty-five percent female, don’t you?”

Her tension reminded me of a cheese wire cutting through a thick block of Cheddar. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well, it is. Females… you don’t have the control we do. And that sounds super chauvinistic, but it isn’t meant to be. It’s the truth.

“I know I’m not the only one hoping that because you found us so early on means we can ground you. Stop you from turning Ghoul. If that’s even a possibility with this eighth soul of yours.”

She pushed her face harder into my throat. “I don’t understand why you don’t hate me.”

My lips curved. “How could I? You brought a little bit of madness to my life, Eve, sure, but you brought peace too.”

“How? How have I done that?” This time, she pulled back so she could look at me. Her confusion was so genuine I had to sigh.

“For a year, I endured monthly exorcisms, Eve. Monthly. Padre Joan almost killed me, and I knew he’d keep on trying until he managed to flush the demons out of me. One day, when the Hell Hound was in control, I realized he’d only stop when I was dead because that was the only way those demons were going to relinquish their hold on me.” I gulped, partly terrified about her learning something I’d done so young, while equally needing to share this with her. Something that had formed me into the man who had survived, who had made it to this point where he could be claimed by her.

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