Exile (Dance with my Demons #4)

by Steph Macca

Run, little killer. We like to chase our prize before we claim it.

always said that if people saw me as the villain, then I'd be their fucking villain.

In violence and corruption, I found an unexpected peace. An inferno of flames in an otherwise dark abyss—someone to dance with my demons.

For the first time since my mother died, I experienced love again—even if I didn't want it. Her vibrant light choked me, wrapping around my black heart like barbed wire, ripping me apart, until finally, she cracked me wide open. In my own personal hell, I found her. Avery. For the first time, someone saw me as more than their savior. More than a leader and someone to fear. She wanted to save… me. So now, it's only fitting that I should die for her.

We could have played rock paper scissors to decide who gets to marry her, even if I'd be awfully tempted to chop off their hands to win by default.

Except this time, it's different. I'm covered in my husband's blood. My husband.

Lilydale promised to save me, even when I adamantly believed I was beyond salvation. But in a strange turn of events, I was saved. By Grey. By Theo. And by Damon.

I guess, bloodied knuckles aside, maybe I could have a career as a doctor. Likes blood—check. Remains somewhat calm in an emergency—check. Able to remove limbs—double check.

"No, but she's his everything, Christopher. She's his reason to live, to fight. Just like she's mine. He has to be okay. There's no other option here."

"Maybe that can be your Christmas present," she murmurs. "A little murder goes well with mistletoe."

"À nous pour toujours jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare," Damon murmurs, gently clutching my hand and kissing it. "And all the lifetimes after."