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“Plagues, now I’m talking to the floor,” I mutter, further proof that I’m losing my mind.
It’s been three days since I stumbled back to my childhood home, haunted and half-dead. And yet, both my mind and body are far from healed.
A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of that cool voice, the one I’ve heard sound like both a caress and a command. I stiffen, slipping slightly down the sooty wall. He’s here.
And I intend to win when I finally face the Enforcer.
“Tell me, darling, do you think of me often?” His voice is a murmur, as if his lips were pressed against my ear. I shiver, knowing exactly what that feels like.
“Do I haunt your dreams, plague your thoughts, like you do mine?”
And with all the betrayal now between us, I know he wouldn’t declare dreaming of me if he knew I was drinking in every word.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I have gone mad. Mad with worry, with rage, with betrayal.
Three days to prepare, and yet, no plan will truly free me from her. Three days to simply be Kitt and Kai—brothers—before we became king and Enforcer.
He points to the flaming roof, smoke shifting as a figure stumbles through the flames. A figure with silver hair. So she is here. I can’t seem to decide whether I’m relieved or not. “Bring her to me.”
Her cry of pain makes me flinch, an action that is as frustrating as it is foreign to me.
Death is familiar to me, both friend and foe, and far too frequent in my life. But for her, Death is devastation, no matter its victim.