Page 80 of Our Little Monster
Shhh, he soothed me, stroking my back and hair as all the rage, all the sadness from the past, leaked from me like a fresh wound.
I knew who killed my father; better yet, he was so close. I could finally finish it. I could heal, whether that meant from living or dying in the process. I could move on from this, and a part of me was realizing that maybe I had already started to heal by opening my heart to three monsters that weren’t so different.
Three monsters that weren’t really monsters at all.
Thorne held me in his lap. I didn’t know when he had moved to the stairs to sit down, but he had me cradled, avoiding Nox’s blood a few stairs up. Nox was in the kitchen tending to the wound on his stomach.
I didn’t feel bad about it; he had lied to me, they all had, but telling me Thorne was hunting while Bastian was being tortured for what we did at the pub?
Nox, you asshole.
When I finally look up at Thorne, I found he was watching me intently.
“I promise you, we will go and get him, but we can’t do this thoughtlessly. We need to be careful and use our heads,” he whispered firmly to me, and I nodded, knowing that he was right.
If I went into this rage-induced, I probably wouldn’t walk away alive. Not that I had planned to when I started my quest for vengeance…
“We’ll go tomorrow night, I promise. Let’s take a day to plan,” he said, and I wanted to protest, but after a few moments of tense silence thickening the air, I finally agreed.
Besides, I didn’t have a clue on where to go if they didn’t help me.
I stood, and we walked over to the kitchen bar where Nox had already poured himself a stiff drink while sitting on one of the stools, the bandage wrapped around his center already turning red.
The wound was healing slowly.Too slowly.
But I didn’t have time to question it as Nox poured us drinks too and changed the subject.
26
Serina
Thelastraysofthe sun kissed the horizon, bleeding into a dusky purple. From my vantage point at the window, I watched the twilight dance in idyllic colors while I slid into my black attire that had pretty much become like a second skin.
My fingers worked deftly, strapping weapons to my body with a practiced ease that came from too many nights where silver and wood were truer companions than flesh and blood.
The weight of them was comforting, familiar.
“Let’s go,” I said as I walked toward the garage door to where the car was parked, determination in my steps.
Thorne and Nox moved with lethal grace; no weapons adorned them because they were walking forces of nature. Yet as we neared the garage door, ready to plunge into the night’s embrace, they halted—a pause so slight, so fraught with tension, it might have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn't know them as intimately as I did.
“What is it?” I questioned, sharper than I intended, betraying the coiled impatience inside me.
Time was slipping away, and with it, Bastian.
We didn’t know what was happening to him. And it was killing me.
It was then, when I saw the furrow of Thorne’s brow, the almost imperceptible tightening of Nox’s jaw, that I knew they weren’t going to let me go with them.
“Serina,” Thorne began, the single word a plea. I knew that tone, had heard it whispered against my skin.
“Let’s not waste time,” I pressed, ignoring them. I needed to move, to act, because stillness was a luxury afforded to those who didn’t carry the weight of lives on their backs. “What is it? Why are we stopping? Let’s go.” My voice cut through the quiet.
“Serina,” Nox started this time, his voice betraying an edge of hesitance I rarely heard from him.
The furrows deepened on his brow as he exchanged a glance with Thorne that didn’t need words.
“We want you to stay here,” Nox said, his voice firm yet laced with an undercurrent of something tender, protective. It was a tone I was sure I would cherish in other circumstances, but now it grated against every instinct screaming inside me.
