CHAPTER 25: CASSEL’S THORNED HEART

The girl standing before me was small, delicate—almost breakable.

Yet she carried the aura of someone carved from steel, someone who would not bend, not shatter, not yield... no matter what tried to crush her.

And with that gun clenched in her hand, I couldn’t deny it—

a swarm of butterflies burst to life in my chest, flickering against my heart as I watched her stance: fierce, unwavering, shoulders squared in defiance.

Defending me.

Protecting me.

Like a mother animal shielding her young with teeth bared and claws drawn.

It was a strange feeling.

A beautiful one.

And—

a dangerously addictive one.

I liked it far too much.

But no matter how many times I tried, I still couldn’t understand the depth of emotion this girl carried for me. I didn’t know her origins, didn’t know her story, didn’t know where such intense, overwhelming devotion could come from.

How could anyone love this deeply—this fiercely—someone they barely knew?

No...

from the way she looks at me, the way she moves around me—

She knows me.

Perhaps more intimately than anyone else in this world.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

Her origin no longer matters.

Nor the reason she came to me.

Nor the secrets she guards.

I’ll unravel every piece of her eventually—

But only after she’s tangled so deeply in my web that escape becomes a fantasy.

Don’t dream of leaving me in this lifetime.

Rosalia.

My sweet darling.

My beautiful salvation.

"You— it’s fine if you don’t care about strangers, but your brother and I are your family. Your only family. You should be ensuring our safety and well-being," Elias Zancroft said, his face contorted into a pitiful mask of worry.

As if sprinting toward his own doom, that cheap excuse of a man just had to speak again.

Had to remind me he was still breathing.

Truly...

Perhaps I shouldn’t toy with them anymore.

Their very existence is becoming unbearable.

Should I kill him?

Nothing is stopping me now.

I could crush that neck, silence that filthy mouth.

Just as Rosalia said—

I could toss them all into a nest of zombies and wash my hands of them forever.

Yes... that would be far cleaner.

I’m tired—exhausted—of that grating, authoritative voice clawing at my ears every time he opens his mouth.

If only killing them would truly satisfy me.

If only the hatred festering inside me across two lifetimes could be soothed by a peaceful, painless death.

If that were possible, I would have slaughtered them a week ago—

The day I was reborn into this world.

This cruel, rotting world.

I once planned to destroy it all—every stone, every sky, every living soul—along with myself, once I regained the power I held in my past life.

I’d done it before.

The second time would be even easier.

As those memories—dark, poisonous, unforgettable—flooded back, my vision dimmed until the world turned pitch-black.

A tidal wave of emotion suffocated me—

Despair.

Misery.

Terror.

Hatred.

Ruin.

Helplessness.

And above all, the bitterness of a fate I refused—

No, could not accept.

Those emotions were my salvation once.

They were the fire that allowed me to tear down a world.

They were about to consume me again when her voice—soft, sweet, deceptively gentle—cut through the darkness.

"Are you kidding me? You dare call yourself family with that filthy mouth? Wow. Your voice is so scratchy it makes my ears hurt."

I watched her shift the gun in her hand and aim it at Elias’s forehead.

Cold.

Precise.

Merciless.

I understood by now—Rosalia despised the father and son with a burning, venomous hatred. At first, I wondered if she carried a blood feud... but after a while, it became obvious—

She hates them because of me.

Because of me.

For me.

A sudden warmth surged through me, roaring like a tidal wave, sweeping away every suffocating emotion strangling my chest.

Right.

This time, I’m not alone.

I’m not chained.

I’m not abandoned.

This time, I am free—

Free to choose, to shape, to destroy or protect.

Free to claim my own fate.

And I am not doing it alone.

Someone is here—

for me.

Someone willing to bleed for my safety.

Someone who stands before me, shielding me from every storm.

Rosalia stepped closer to Elias, whose trembling was almost pathetic. Loud when safe, silent when threatened—he was nothing but a balloon: big on the outside, filled with rotten, useless air inside.

One needle could empty him.

Her voice dropped as she leaned closer—forgetting, perhaps, that enhanced senses pick up everything.

I heard every breath she exhaled.

Every word.

"A father like you doesn’t deserve the title. I’d rather Cassel be fatherless—hell, I’d rather pull the trigger now and make him an orphan—than let you boast about a role you never earned."

"You... you... you can’t—"

Elias stuttered, his fear palpable.

Rosalia’s dark gaze had pierced straight through him.

And that look—

Is she mimicking me?

Hah.

A laugh crawled up my throat.

What a cute little rabbit—Henry was right.

I was about to step forward and stop her.

Not because of blood ties or sentiment—

But because I refused to let her stain her beautiful hands with trash like that.

I couldn’t stomach the thought.

And I wouldn’t allow it.

With her here—

with her at my side—

I could endure.

I could continue the game I crafted for these insects.

Let them live.

Because a living will hurts far more than death.

I opened my mouth to speak—

But the air shifted.

An attack.

Fast.

Approaching.

"Move!" I barked, my voice sharp enough to slice stone.

My body moved before my mind did.

In one swift motion, I wrapped my arm around her slender waist and leapt away, Rosalia secured tightly against my chest.

The others were quick too—Henry, Liz, Robin, and the rest dodged the fireball that slammed into the spot where Rosalia had stood only seconds earlier.

The fireball sputtered out before touching the ground.

Its shape told me what I needed to know—

It was meant to startle, not kill.

Which explained why I hadn’t sensed its owner earlier.

Out of everyone here, I’m the only one who can detect killing intent before an attack is even formed.

Meaning whoever launched that fireball...

had no desire to harm us.

But my fury still ignited.

You dare attack Rosalia right in front of me?

You must have a death wish.