Page 135 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

The thought of Mine dying doesn’t sit well with me. In fact, it threatens to make me physically ill. I shake my head. This isn’t the time to think about death—despite the fact that we have a ghost in the back of the car. Though as I glance back, I note that Tommy has momentarily disappeared. Perhaps he’s been dragged back to the base? Somehow, I’m thankful for the reprieve, for being able to be alone with Mine when I can sense the turmoil underneath his calm facade.

His features contort with pain, and a restless desire grows within me to comfort him and alleviate his pain. I reach out for his hand—a move as antithetical to me as acknowledging that he might be my best friend. He startles, and his sad eyes slowly find mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

The corners of his mouth tremble as he gives me a small smile. He grabs my hand and squeezes it before bringing it to his lips for a light kiss. Yet it’s a kiss that I feel in my bones. Thewarmth from his mouth spreads up my body, enveloping me and causing my skin to erupt in goose bumps.

“You’re sweet,” he murmurs. “But such pain can never go away.”

“Was the sickness…painful?”

He nods. “In his last days, the pain was crippling.”

“And you felt it too? That pain?”

Another nod, a bitter one.

“And you said there was no cure for this sickness?”

“None that his parents would have been able to enact in time. He was already dead when I exhibited the first symptoms. And with the knowledge of what was to come, my father decided to take matters into his own hands and do something extreme.”

“I’m happy,” I tell him.

His eyes widen in surprise—I surprise myself, too.

“I’m happy he found a way to save you.” I pause and wet my lips. “Otherwise, I would have never met you.”

He stares at me for what feels like moments on end. He’s not paying attention to the road, though the car never veers off course. He’s only looking at me. A hard, pressing stare that befuddles me just as much as it fills me with an odd certainty.

Holding my hand tightly, he brings it once more to his lips. His eyes are on mine as he whispers against my knuckles, “I survived so I could meet you.”

EIGHTEEN

The imposingcastle looms in the distance, dominating the landscape with its massive stone walls and turrets. Jagged stones and darkened windows dot the exterior, adding to its menacing appearance. As we approach, I find myself appreciating the architecture and ancient craftsmanship. Mine had mentioned that the castle was built a millennium ago. That in itself is astonishing considering humankind has been slow to develop until very recently.

The sky is a dark blue, a foreboding aura, though there is nary a cloud in sight. The town is quiet, too, though that is to be expected with the threat of attack looming over villagers’ heads. They’ve all heard of the Blitz, and they’re afraid they might be next. After all, fear and uncertainty are the two most prevalent feelings in times of war.

The car drives up the hill toward the entrance of the castle.

Although it’s closed to the public due to the war, Mine said he has a way to get us inside. One glance at him, and I have to calm my rabid heart rate. It’s getting out of control and I do not know what I can do to stop it. One look at his harsh and domineering profile and I find myself fidgeting in my seat. I suppose it’s because he’s handsome.

I hum to myself. Yes, very, very handsome.

I am a little surprised they make humansthishandsome. I have yet to see one that comes anywhere close to Mine, and that is with his scars. If he did not have his scars… Oh, my! He would be far too dazzling. I’d have to fight every single female who laid eyes on him.

I stop for a moment, my thoughts startling me.

Why wouldIfight for him? He’s the one courting me, not the other way around. He should be the one to fight for me. Not that I condone senseless violence, but I rather like the fact that he’s willing to kill other males for trying to get my attention. Whoever taught him this particular courting technique did well.

But then I scowl even more as I start thinking that someone might have taught him that technique—as in, a female.

“Mine,” I start, shooting him a warning glance. His next few words will save or end him.

“Yes?” He gives me one of those dazzling smiles and I have to force myself to focus on the task at hand.

“Have you wanted to kill other males for another female before?”

His lips tremble with mirth.

---