Page 60 of Devoured
His hand stayed at my throat—not squeezing, just holding. His other arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me in place.
“The worst part,”I said to the darkness, “is that part of me would probably let you do it again.”
Even now, drowning in self-loathing, my body remembered the pleasure. The way he’d touched me like I was something precious instead of broken. The way I’d felt beautiful—after so many years.
“I hate myself for wanting it,”I whispered. “I hate myself for liking it. I hate myself for thinking about it even now.”
His chest rose and fell beneath me, rhythmic. Like breathing, though I wasn’t sure he needed to breathe.
“I’m supposed to be the victim here,”I said. “The innocent one. The one worth saving. But victims don’t beg for more. Victims don’t come on their torturer’s fingers and ask for it again.”
The hand at my throat moved. Just slightly. Thumb brushing along my pulse point.
“Kill me,”I begged again. Softer now, as if I was praying. “I can’t live being this. I can’t live knowing what I am.”
His arms came around me properly then, and I felt smaller than I had since I was a child. Safe in a way that made no sense. Protected by the thing that should destroy me. “Please,”I whispered against his chest. “I’m begging you. End it. Let me die before I become something worse.”
But he just held me. Let me cry until there was nothing left. Until my throat was raw and my chest ached and the tears stopped coming. He held me through all of it.
Silent and steady as a mountain.
I thought about Theo. About how he’d held me sometimes after the worst beatings. How he’d stroke my hair and tell me he was sorry, that he loved me, that he’d never do it again.
But this was different. The Executioner wasn’t apologizing or making promises. He was just there.
“I used to think I was good,”I whispered when the crying finally stopped. “Not perfect, but good. Someone who tried to do right. Someone who helped others. Someone worth saving.”
My fingers landed on his bare chest, covered in scars, and I traced the raised marks.
“But good people don’t come undone the way I did with you.”My voice broke. “Good people don’t crave darkness. Good people don’t choose the monster over salvation.”
He shifted beneath me, and I could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. It should have burned. Instead, it felt like the warmth of a fireplace on a cold night.
“Maybe I was never good,”I said. “Maybe I was always this thing wearing a good person’s face. Maybe Theo saw it in me from the beginning. Maybe that’s why he knew he could hurt me and I’d take it.”
The Executioner made a sound deep in his chest. Not quite a growl. Not quite a purr.
Something between comfort and warning.
“Say something,”I begged. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m not the monster I think I am. Or tell me I am and put me out of my misery.”
But he remained silent. Just held me in the flickering torchlight while shadows danced across the walls—And the bed of human skin watched us with dead eyes.
“Sleep,”he said finally. The words rumbled through his chest and into my bones. “You burn too pretty to snuff out now,my moth.”
I closed my eyes and let unconsciousness take me. But even as I fell into darkness, I knew I would wake up unchanged. Still alive when I deserved to be nothing but memory and regret.
The last thing I felt before sleep claimed me was his hand in my hair, stroking gently. Like I was something precious instead of something damned. Like he saw something in me worth preserving—Even if I couldn’t see it myself.
Chapter 20
I paced the chamber in restless circles, my bare feet slapping against the stone. Back and forth, back and forth. The black sheet he had given me, was wrapped around me like a towel, tucked tightly under my arms.
He’d been gone for hours. Again. Every day, if days existed here, followed the same pattern. He’d bring food and water, watch me eat, then touch me until I came apart in his hands. Then he’d vanish, like that would be enough to sustain me until next time. Three days? Five? A week? I’d lost count.
“Do not leave this chamber until I return.”Always the same command.
The food kept my body alive, but my mind was starting to crack. Nothing but stone walls and silence between his visits. Nothing but the memory of his hands and the weight of what I was becoming.
