Page 27 of Bonepetal
The crows screams in the sky and follows. She bolts for the forest around the old Thorned
Patch property.
I know this is the last place she wants to be tonight. Too much history rotting in the dirt. Too many memories stitched into the stone, my blood, her vow, the night it all went to hell.
But instinct doesn’t give a fuck about want. Doesn’t care where you swore you’d never go again.
It drags you where you belong.
And she belongs here.
At the altar where she gave herself to me.
At the ground that swallowed me whole.
Of course her body brought her back. One year isn’t long enough to undo what we carved into each other. One lifetime wouldn’t be enough.
She stops like I knew she would. Right where it ended.
Right where it’s about to begin again.
I step into the clearing, slow, deliberate. Like I’ve been waiting under the dirt this whole time just for her to remember.
My voice cuts through her ragged breathing. “You really thought I was gone? That my soul was stuck, trapped burning in the pits of hell?” My laugh scrapes raw, sharp enough to cutthe night. “You should’ve known better, bonepetal. Not even hell could keep me from you.”
Her eyes lock on me, wide, glassy. Fear. Relief. Hunger.
All of it tangled into one beautiful wreck.
“Look at you,” I murmur, closing the space between us as I push the skull up to rest on my head. My hand fists in her skirt, dragging her flush against me, her back pressed to the split stone. “You can run, you can spit my name like it’s poison but your body doesn’t lie. You’re trembling for me. Shaking because it remembers every way I ruined you. Because it’s aching for me to do it again.”
Her lips part, my name trembling on her tongue, “You’re not?—”
I don’t let her finish.
I drag the skull down between us, teeth grinning, hollow sockets swallowing her reflection.
“No,” I rasp, mouth dragging heat against her ear, close enough she shudders. “What came back isn’t Finn. Not the boy you loved. What came back is a monster, a man who burned and rotted, who screamed through fire while you let another put his hands where only I ever should’ve been. A man who clawed his way out of the grave to drag you back where you belong—under me.”
Her knees knock together, weak. I catch her wrist, slam her palm flat against the scar carved into my chest. Raised lines, rough and ugly, the mark I branded into myself that night.
Her gasp shivers through me like a hymn.
I tilt her chin up with a bone-hard grip, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are wide, wet, trembling, and I laugh. Low. Cutting.
“Your eyes are full of fear, bonepetal. Tell me… are you afraid of me?”
She swallows hard, shakes her head, voice breaking. “No. I just—” Her words hitch, tumbling out fast. “I thought it was thedevil. I felt it, the veil thinning, the pull. I thought he was coming for me. Thought he wanted me back.” Her mouth twists, like she’s ashamed of saying it out loud. “I figured he didn’t get what he was promised that night… so yeah. I thought it was him.”
I grin behind the skull, dark and sharp. Perfect. Let her think the devil’s still got his claws out for her. Let her believe she’s hunted by something worse than me. Because if she thinks he’s chasing her, I can make myself the only thing that can stop it.
The only shield she’ll ever beg for.
My hand curls harder at her throat, claiming.
“You want him off you,” I murmur, low, amused at how easy this is. “The devil. The hunger. You want the quiet back.”
Her throat bobs under my palm, pulse hammering. She doesn’t say it, but I feel it anyway, her body’s already screaming yes.
