Cynics: A Prequel Dark Stalker Romance Novella (Saints and Cynics) by Alice T. Boone

Author:Alice T. Boone [Boone, Alice T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2022-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I hadn’t let myself so much as dream about her. Bridget’s name hadn’t graced my tongue in seven days, and for once, hollow bones matched hollow movements. My phone died on Thursday, but when I realized there was no one left to call me, I hadn’t been able to charge the damn thing. I wouldn’t allow myself to think about her, wouldn’t allow myself to drive past her house, hadn’t let myself stroke my cock to her memory. The thing that had guided me for years, this beast, was really the only thing I had left. When the pain threatened to swallow me, the great pessimist could transform it into a rage like I hadn’t tasted before. When I missed her, the beast was quick to snarl about how annoying she’d become, about how much of my time she’d wasted, about that pathetic look she always wore.

I’d depended on that voice for seven days.

When it disappeared on Tuesday, I’d never felt more useless.

Bridget’s magic had a way of coating the library, and even when I was there alone, I couldn’t find the voice to break it. Her sigils would keep this thing locked in my marrow and without it, there was no transformation. Once I entered her library, all that was left was guilt. I’d been sitting in my car for the better part of an hour, more time lost trying to convince myself I’d done the right thing. Pushing her away was the only option I had left. Letting her in meant breaking her wings forever, and while the idea would haunt my dreams, reality brought much sicker visions. I didn’t want to be the man who did that to her. I didn’t want to have her if it meant I had to break her forever, and Bridget wasn’t strong enough to survive the dark. I’d tried to do the right thing, and yet, that awful threshold still kept me pinned in place. Still, I couldn’t force myself to enter the top floor.

Move.

Do something.

My hand rubbed over my face, the beast nothing more than a sickening lick at my ear. For the third time this week, I reminded myself that I didn’t have a choice but to push forward. For the third time this week, I reminded myself that I couldn’t just let this collapse. The only reason I was here was to get out of a prison sentence, to protect a friend. All I had to do was graduate. All I had to do was put in the fucking work and then I could go back to the world where I belonged, back to the shadows of the underground. Within my car, I promised myself that I was headed to the library for a number of reasons— none of them the truth. When I finally found the strength to climb to the top of the stairs, her warmth wouldn’t let me live in that lie for long. When I pushed the door to the top floor open, when the scent of strawberries washed my every sense, none of those reasons came to my rescue.

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