Chapter 277: tighter
Tila clutched him tighter, her breath shivering in and out of her lungs, uneven and ragged, like wind through cracked stone.
"Then... who am I?" she asked, voice cracked and empty, echoing faintly off the moldy walls.
"If she’s not real, then what does that make me? A fraud? A puppet pulled together with shadows and fear?"
Kael’s hands moved slowly, one up her back in a soothing glide, the other resting over her heart, steadying her frantic pulse with his warmth.
"No. You’re someone who survived when no one came to help. Someone who created light in the middle of rot. You didn’t fake anything. You lived—fiercely, against all odds."
"But I murdered them," she whispered, her black eyes squeezing shut, tears seeping from the corners.
"Everyone. Even when they begged. Even when they cried. They were monsters but I—" Her throat closed, a choke cutting off the words. "I was worse. I enjoyed it. I laughed. And Lila told me I was strong for doing it."
"You were strong," Kael said softly, his hazel eyes unwavering in the dim light filtering through the slats.
"But strength in pain turns cruel. That wasn’t joy—that was a starving girl finally tasting power after being force-fed fear her whole life. You didn’t enjoy killing. You enjoyed not being helpless, not being the one on the floor anymore."
Her breath hitched, a sharp sob escaping as her body pressed closer to his. "You’re wrong."
He shook his head, his chin brushing her curls. "I’m not. I’ve seen people kill to feel big. You killed to feel real—to reclaim what was stolen from you."
She was trembling again, but differently now.