Page 46 of Heartless Enemy

He seemed lighter, more at peace, than I had ever seen him. While he still couldn’t handle enclosed spaces, and probably never would be able to either, at least not completely, it seemed as though the act of simply sharing this painful part of his past had helped lessen the weight of it.

And I was incredibly grateful for that. After everything he had been through, he deserved peace. Deserved to have someone else help him carry the burden. I was glad that he had told me, so that I could be that someone for him. And I was glad to see him breathing easier.

I was also furious.

Furious at that fucking blacksmith for torturing him.

Furious at his family for selling him to that scum of the earth in the first place.

And furious at the rest of that shithole of a village for just standing by and letting it happen.

The urge to go back there and burn the whole village to the ground was so overwhelming that I had to grip the reins hard in order to stop myself from doing just that.

And that realization shocked me. Or rather, that instinct shocked me. The instinct to slaughter anyone who hurt the people I loved.

I used to be a constable. I used to think that killing was wrong. And yet, here I was, contemplating mass murder for a sin that half of the people in that village probably hadn’t even known about.

My mind spun, and that feeling of falling into a bottomless abyss surged up inside me again.

I was no longer a constable. Not really, anyway. But did that mean that I had no morals at all anymore?

Was there anything that I wouldn’t do?

If it was about Levi, then no, I was pretty sure that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect him.

But what about everything else?

Where did I draw the line now? I had just casually killed that dark mage who had tried to ambush us on the road. No trial. Nothing. I had just executed him with a lightning bolt even though he had been on his knees, begging for mercy.

And the most terrifying part of all was that I didn’t feel the least bit bad about it. Not even now.

So what did that make me?

A heartless monster?

A dark mage?

Or just someone who did whatever it took to survive and to carve out a scrap of happiness in this mad world?

I didn’t know.

I supposed I would just have to figure it out along the way.

“Did you happen to see a goat?”

Blinking, I was snapped out of my musings by the sound of an old woman’s voice. And by her strange question.

She was standing next to a small cart that she had rolled to a stop on the side of the road. Two hens clucked in a cage on top of the cart that was stacked full of baskets and tins and other odd containers.

With confusion pulling at my brows, I twisted in the saddle and looked behind me to check if she was in fact speaking to us. The road was empty behind us, so I turned back around and then exchanged a bemused glance with Levi.

“Uhm, no,” I said.

Our horses’ hooves clopped softly on the stones as we continued along the road, moving closer to her.

“Ah, that’s a pity,” she said, and heaved a sigh. After rolling her shoulders back, she dabbed her forehead with the back of her hand and then fixed the scarf around her neck. “Old Herbert chewed through his rope during the night and seems to have run off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

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