Page 92 of Beg the Night

Because I knew exactly what that felt like. I knew what it was like to hate a piece of what fundamentally made a person whothey were. Instead of accepting the darkness like I did, she had pushed it away. Locked it in a cage. She had killed her entire family—Katherine aside—though none had happened because she’d actively wanted to do so. She couldn’t control herself. She hadn’t been trained or forced to use her magic every day like I had.

What my father did was nothing short of evil. He made me do things I couldn’t even bear to remember. But being forced to use my powers meant learning to wield them in the way I wanted.

Gifted, they called us. More like cursed.

Of all the men in that damn dungeon, I seemed to be the only one who hated who I was. The others were almost proud of their gifts. Some could move small objects. Read thoughts at will. Teleport, apparently.

But nobody could kill with the shadows that bowed to them.

Death.

That was my gift.

I supposed Athena had been cursed with a version of that gift as well. Though based on the well of power I’d encountered, hers ran far deeper. I’d yet to see what she was truly capable of. Even now that I could taste it, I could sense it more than I ever had before, I could wield it even, if I wanted to, but there was an instinct inside of me to tread lightly.

Athena thought I’d finally discovered her secret. But there was more to it. Facets of it she didn’t even know she was hiding.

“Here,” she said, tugging my arm as we approached a clothing store. She was right about one thing. We looked absolutely insane.

We needed clothes, and damn, Athena needed some shoes. We both did.

She released her hold on me, but before she could step away, I caught her hand and tugged her body to mine. “Follow my lead,” I ordered as we crossed the threshold.

The shop was small, just a few racks of clothes with enough room for us and the shopkeeper who greeted us.

“Welcome,” the woman said. “You two look like you’re in the market for some warmer attire!” She was pretty. NotAthenapretty, but pretty.

“That, we are,” I answered with a smirk.

She blushed and averted her eyes. She was around my age, maybe younger. “W-well,” she stammered, “we have a few things over here that could work out for you and your…” She peered at Athena and paused.

“My sister,” I replied.

Athena hit me with a glare so full of hatred I’m surprised I didn’t drop dead, but I kept the arrogant smile on my face.

We picked out clothing quickly, Athena glowering at me the entire time. I chatted with the shopkeeper, worming my way into her good graces, and by the time we had what we needed, she was happy to let us return later with ourpayment.

Out on the busy street again, Athena smacked me in the arm. “Are you kidding me! Your sister?”

I fought a smile. “The plan worked, and you know it.”

“Oh, please.” Though she hid behind her sarcasm, anger emanated from her. Maybe I was sick, but I kind of liked that.

I guided her across the cobblestone. “Let’s get back to the inn before Mags wakes up and decides to go make peace with Katherine and Benedict.”

The walk back to the inn was quiet. Peaceful. Even though Athena’s limp was back—and the urge to do the same was hard for me to fight—the night was enjoyable. More than enjoyable. The lights strung across the narrow street created a beautiful glow, illuminating the people we passed. The longer we walked the more obvious it became that the citizens here were actually happy.

It was hard to come to terms with such contentment. Such normalcy. How could life be continuing on like this when I had endured so much? How could so many people be living their lives, smiling, when I could barely breathe?

It felt fucking crushing at times.

Back at the inn, we found Margaret still out cold. Of course. She had always slept soundly. Unbothered. Peaceful.

That, I was thankful for. I would have kept watch over her every night if it meant she could rest without being disturbed by nightmares.

Athena tiptoed farther into the room, clearly not wanting to wake her.

“This way,” I whispered, motioning to the small bathroom on the other side of the room.

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