Page 155 of Dance With A Devil
I pass out, curled between two of them, breath steady for the first time in what feels like centuries.
Because for the first time, I don’t care what’s coming for us.
Let it come.
We have walls, weapons… and each other.
And the Devils always watch the door.
Chapter Thirty-One
Wyck
It’s been what felt like weeks since we moved into the asylum. Our new kingdom. A relic of madness reimagined for monsters like us.
Athens owns it now. Every cursed hallway, every crooked shadow. She’s carved herself into this place like she was born to reign in ruins.
At first, I gave her a couple of rooms, called it compromise.
Now?
The girl’s got an entire wing.
A theater for the theatrics she pretends not to love. A library with a hidden nook where she disappears for hours. An office that smells like vanilla and paper cuts. A closet that could swallow the sun. A mudroom, because apparently wetrack sin in like dirt.
And our room? It’s… hers. Dark-painted walls. White flooring. Stark furniture. Black silk curtains that kiss the ground like they’re mourning. And pink, fuck, the girl addedpink.
I almost choked when she justified it.
"You represent the good kind of darkness in my life. The one where I see the light at the end of a tunnel.Yourtunnel… becauseI amthat light.”
I didn’t think I could fall harder.
Then she said that, and I fucking plummeted.
Dash’s whistle snaps me out of it. “Jesus, this is a lot of pink,” he mutters, stepping into her curated chaos like he’s trespassing in Barbie’s funeral home.
“Anything our girl wants, she gets,” I say without flinching. “If you think this is a lot, don’t walk into her office. I still haven’t recovered.”
Truth is… I don’t care how bright it gets, as long as she smiles, I’ll gladly live in her version of hell.
“I get it,” Dash says, eyes glinting with something darker. “We broke in her office last week after she cracked reading one of those journals. She needed an outlet. I gave it to her.”
His smirk is sharp. But short-lived.
We all know Athens hasn’t told us everything. She's holding onto secrets like they’re survival, and I’ve let it go long enough.
So I had Fred and Ryan go in after her.
They weren’t thrilled.
“Dude, wedon’tneed to read them,” Ryan had snapped. “We werethere.”
“Yeah, and I’d rathernotrelive any of it,” Fred added, face pale. “No one should have to remember shit like that.”
That got my attention.
“What do you mean?”
