Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 146722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 734(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 734(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“The pink-haired one with the braid,” Sela said, not a question, just a perfect fucking guess at what had Diel so rattled. “What is it? You want to kill her or fuck her?” Sela raised a single eyebrow. “Or both?”
“I don’t fuck.” Diel paced in front of the lit fire. Assault after Brethren assault fired at his brain like unrelenting rounds of bullets as that word circled his head. Fuck. The only kind of fucking he knew was as a kid, being strapped down and taken against his will. And with every fuck that had been forced upon him, the monster inside of him grew more and more powerful, woke from whatever depth of hell it was born in and possessed Diel’s soul.
Over time, the monster grew bigger and bigger until it could spread its arms and legs and fill the marrow of every bone in Diel’s body, penetrate every fiber in his muscles. It had eclipsed any light inside Diel’s heart and taken the lead, pushing Diel behind it, taking on the Brethren so Diel didn’t have to—his frontline, war-shredded soldier. The monster had attacked. It bit and snarled and slashed at any of the priests who tried to cut him from Diel’s body. Who tried to douse him in holy water and fuck the bad from his depraved soul.
So, they put Diel in chains. They wrapped them around his neck to cage the monster, to take away the monster’s freedom and keep them both strictly under their control.
And the monster soured. Year by year, unable to fight, to protect Diel like it was designed to do, it soured and rotted until it became a wraith, an enraged black shadow of death—it offered no forgiveness or second chances. It killed without explanation, relishing in any blood it got to spill and any piece of flesh it got to tear. It was feral and untamed. And, in time, it became part of Diel. Inextricably fused to everything Diel was. They were dualistic. Twin souls trapped in one ruined body.
But not right now. For the first time ever, they were split in their desires, opposing magnets ripping themselves apart.
Diel could feel the monster trying to cut its way through his internal barrier to take control, to rise to the surface and bind his hands over this raging desire.
Diel couldn’t let that happen. Not this time. Noa had to die. The act of fucking had only ever brought pain and destruction to Diel. He didn’t care about the joining of flesh or sinking into someone and coming inside them. If it didn’t involve death, he didn’t want to know.
Noa had no choice but to die. He couldn’t let his monster have her like that. It would destroy everything they had built since Purgatory. It would make them vulnerable again. Diel wouldn’t ever be fucking vulnerable to anyone ever again.
Diel felt his pulse speed up as he fought the monster. He held his breath and wrested it back further and further, sweat dripping down his back as he fell to the floor and the collar buzzed a warning. But the fight only grew worse. The collar was designed to stop his monster from attacking someone else—its purpose was never to stop Diel fighting himself.
He gripped his head as the monster slashed at his muscles, agony exploding through him like spilled acid. The buzzing ended, only for a bolt of pain to cut through him, like lightning touching ground and scorching anything in its path.
Diel’s body writhed, and his head hit the floor as the familiar volts rendered him immobile. He tried to breathe through the shocks that made him jerk uncontrollably. A hand landed on his bicep. “Breathe, brother,” Sela said, crouching down beside him.
Diel’s throat felt raw; his chest burned from the internal fight. But his monster was silent. Diel had gained a victory for now. Sela’s hands moved underneath Diel’s arms and he lifted him to his feet, sitting him on the closest couch. Diel’s head ticked as the last of the volts tried to flee his body. His knuckles were white as he gripped the arm of the couch.
He closed his eyes and breathed, searching for signs of the monster’s second attack. Everything was silent. But Diel knew his monster was only buying itself time. Waiting, like an expert guerilla fighter, hidden from Diel’s senses but silently strategizing its next move with absolute precision.
A glass of water appeared before his face. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he took the glass that Sela held. He drained it, but the storm inside of him didn’t lessen. It raged, dark clouds rolling, gaining power and momentum.
She had to die. Noa had to die tonight. He had to stop this internal madness.
Sela dropped to the seat beside Diel. Diel stared at a single drop of water traveling down the outside of the glass. His hands steadied, and he felt a wash of calmness take control of him. This was him without the monster, he realized. This was the silence that came when the monster’s eternal roar was muted.