Page 55 of Whispers of Ruin

“You made me feel like shit,” she repeats, quieter now. “But I am not nothing. I am everything you were too small to even fucking dream about.”

Julian sobs harder, pulling helplessly at the ropes binding him to the frame.

“Please, Mira,please—this isn’t you, you’re not like this—”

Her smile is pure fucking nightmare fuel.

“No,” she whispers. “I’m better.”

Behind her, I grip my cock, painfully hard, watching her claim every shred of her destiny back—damn, she is magnificently violent. Julian squirms weakly against the restraints, a pitiful sound tearing from his throat as Mira stands over him, the knife glinting wickedly in her hand.

Julian’s face crumples, blood smearing the corners of his mouth.

“Mira, FUCK, please—”

He whimpers, sagging lower. She steps even closer, until the tip of the knife kisses his throat, trembling from the force of her fury.

“I gave you everything, my mind, my soul, my skin,” she says, venom dripping from every word. “And you repaid me with empty promises and cold beds. So, tell me Julian…” She leans in, her mouth right by his ear, her hair brushing his bloody cheek. “Who’s disposable now?”

Julian suddenly lets out a laugh—high-pitched, broken, almost maniacal.

“You think you’re so invincible now?” he chokes out, his lips cracked and bleeding. “Look at you… miserable. All that anger—for what? You were never enough. Not then. Not now, nor ever!”

He spits blood to the side, sneering up at her with hollow eyes.

“You think you broke me, sweetie? You couldn’t evensatisfyme. You are nothing, Mira! Just a fucking tight hole I couldn’t even use and a pretty face.”

I see Mira’s shoulders contract, the blade trembling slightly in her hand—rage and heartbreak colliding in real time.

She’s slipping.

Enough.

I step up beside her; the floor creaking under my weight, my hand ghosting the small of her back.

You’re not alone, little fox.

Julian’s sneer falters the second he feels my presence.I lean close to her ear.

“Make him fucking gargle his last breath.”

Her knuckles whiten around the handle while towering over what is left of him—a pitiful, broken thing, no more threat than a stray hissing at a lioness.

Julian tries to twist away,

“DAMN Mira, wait—PLEASE—!”

But she is already moving.

No mercy.

No more hesitation.

Game over.

The blade slides deep across his neck with a sickening ease. A wet, gurgling sound claws at the air before everything goes eerily still. He winces as the blood seeps, his last gasp fills the room and eyes widen. Mira just stands there, trembling, bathed in the aftermath, the knife slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor. I catch her before she can collapse, wrapping her against me so fiercely, her skin fever-hot against mine.

My heart is a fucking war drum in my chest, hammering so loud I can taste copper on my tongue. A raw, instinctive part of me is filled with pride.

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