bChapter /bb55 /b

Cassian

I wake up drenched in cold sweat, the memories of my nightmare drilling into my mind. It had been years since Ist dreamed of the origin of my ckened heart, but I suppose recent events have forced my mind to summon memories from the past. Beneath my skin, I can still feel the roar of my blood at the contact of that human’s mouth on mine.

I get out of bed, slip on a shirt I don’t bother to button, and pull on a pair of pants. I don’t need to ask myself where my feet are king me as soon as one steps outside my room. I walk with purpose to the castle’s main library–nothing like that small, dusty one on the lower floors that the fire smander has imed as its home. I push open the heavy doors, still damp with sweat down my back.

I take a step forward, savoring the rare sensation of not being the most imposing thing in the room. The shelves filled with books, their spines flecked with color, stretch farther than the eye can see. The ceilings are incredibly high–so high, enormousdders and- required to reach the books that rest up there. However, it’s not this room’s beauty that I came looking for. I keep walkin

two massive portraits of the people who gave me life.

ge are

nd before

It doesn’t matter how many times I stand here; every time I look at them, I realize my mind has already started forgetting the details of their faces–like the color of my mother’s eyes, the exact shade of blue in my father’s irises, or how remarkably ck was the waterfall of curls of the woman who bore me. But these portraits can’t give me back details already lost across the years they’ve been dead. I can no longer recall how my mother’s voice sounded when she called my name, nor the tone of herughter when my fatherplimented her and her cheeks flushed. I clench my fists until the skin on my knuckles stretches taut. The hatred waters me again, refusing to let me forget anything.

“Love made you weak,” I say, knowing no one hears me. “That won’t happen to me. I won’t let anyone turn me into a fool.”

Among my kind, they sometimes whisper the story of my parents as if it were a tragic y penned by some dramatist. The problem is that it’s not some fiction born from a schr’s mind, but the real story of two people who loved each other so much–had so much love to give–that they were unable to live without the other.

Before my thoughts drag me into that dark pit I sometimes struggle to escape, I turn my back on them. As if doing so could dull the pain. Still, I don’t leave. I sit on one of the armchairs not far from a liquor cab. It’s almost as if someone on the staff knows I escape here more often than I’d like to admit, to remind myself that I must be as harmful as ice held too long in the hand.

I pour two fingers of alcohol mixed with blood and let it burn my throat. I close my eyes, trying to empty my mind, but footsteps stop me. I know who it is–no one else would daree here. Or perhaps that fierce human would find the guts to do so, though iI /ihope she’s too busy tormenting herself over what happened earlier.

“Can’t sleep either?”

I take a sip before responding.

“Let me guess, is a woman the reason for your insomnia?”

“Just as she is for yours, my friend.”

I click my tongue and wave my hand dismissively. I cross one leg over the other, gettingfortable. Drystan, hands behind his back–a pose I’ve seen more times than I can count–steps further into the room and takes the seat across from mine.

“Want to tell me what happened earlier? You’ve seemed unsettled since then.”

b“/bIt’s all in your imagination.”

He arches an eyebrow at me and holds my gaze for a long moment, as if waiting for my resolve to break. He sighs, pats bhis /bbthighs/bb, /bband /bbstands/b, ready to leave me alone. I don’t know why I give in now, when I’d almost managed to be alone again. Maybe bit’s /bbjust /bthatb–/bbI /bbdon’t /bbwant /bbto /bbbe /balone while guilt and remorse gnaw at my thoughts.

b1/3 /b

b13:27 /bbMon/bb, /bb4 /bbAug /bA

b“/bbI /bkissed her.”

“You kissed her?” he repeats, incredulous.

“I guess it was something in the moment.”

“Something in the moment…”

I lift my eyes, tired.

“Do you not know how to do anything besides repeat what I say?”

He shakes his head like he needs to snap out of a trance. He sits again in front of me and sps his fingers under his chin.

“Even though I’m at a loss for words, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.” He clears his throat. “It’s as if ra was made for what you need–I’ve never seen you more alive. And I understand your reasons for hating her. I know what she is, what But maybe it’s time you stop clinging so tightly to your hatred. It might be igood /ifor you.”

ian. She’s

ents to youb. /b

“She’s not good for me.” I finish my drink and m the ss on the table. “On the contrary, my hatred doesn’t hurt me. I have to put an end to her as soon as possible. I’ve let this go on too long.”

“And why do you think that is?”

Our eyes lock, defiant.

“You don’t want to hurt her, Cassian. You know she’s innocent. She’s not what others were.”

“Humans aren’t different from one another. They’re selfish creatures.”

“So are we.”

“Whose side are you on, mine or hers?” I snap.

“I’m always on your side.” He stands and ces a hand on my shoulder. “That’s why I’m telling you this, friend. You need to let go of the past and face the present.”

“I face the present every day.”

“You think you do.”

I let out a breath through clenched teeth. I shrug off his hand from my shoulder, Heughs–a sound that makes every nerve in my body prickle with the urge to fight.

“And what about you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at the banshee.”

“I find her interesting.”

“Interesting, as in spread across your bed, you mean.”

He res at me, and now it’s my turn tough, knowing I hit the mark. I exhale sharply and stand up. We’re face to face, only a few centimeters of height difference between us.

“Doesn’t feel so good when others meddle in your businessb, /bhuh?”

He clenches his fists and teeth–I can hear them grinding. I sh a tight–lipped smile and walk bout /bbof /bbthe /blibrary. bTwisted /bbas /bbit /bisb, /bbI /bbfeel /bba /bblittle /bbetter nowb. /bbI /bsuppose it’s in my nature to feel relieved when I know someone else is just as bbroken/bb–/bor bworse/bb–/bbthan /bbme/b.

b2/3 /b

13:27 Mon, 4 Aug bA /b

I return to my quarters, determined that none of the recent events will affect me more than I’ve already allowed.

59b% /b

b(/b+20)

No matter what my friend and right hand says, ra has been a distraction–one that hassted too long–and it’s time I leave her behind, in the care of someone else. Someone I trust. Someone experienced.

I summon her, and it doesn’t take long for her to appear in my room, a cascade of red curls trailing behind her.

“You summoned me, sir?”

I sit in the chair and gesture for her toe closer. I close my eyes, trying to drive ra’s gray eyes from my thoughts. It doe work, so I dive into dark memories that sour my soul.

seem to

Blood, screams, a young man watching rivers of blood soak the floor until it stains his toes, the agonizing cries of a man whose heart has been shattered, the rancid scent of abandonment.

Yes, I let it all flood in, reminding me why ra can’t be anything more than a feeder whose time is running out.