Page 200 of Lie-
Rhys wasn’t supposed to know I was alive. Despite my low profile, the cocksucker had been watching me. This whole time, he monitored his illegitimate spawn while I mixed brews as if I’d been conceived in Winter.
Technically, I had been. By one flesh-and-blood half of the equation.
The other half wanted me dead. Given how long Daddy Dearest must have been keeping tabs on my criminal activity, I was surprised it took him this long to try. Though, I had a hunch.
The treehouse battle. He’d paced himself, aiming to kill multiple rebellious birds with one big-ass stone. That would have spared him my existence, had the plan actually worked.
Either way, Autumn wasn’t safe anymore. Not for Nicu. Not if I stayed. He’d be a vulnerability target, and I’d be a sitting duck asking for a knife through the heart.
“But you love him!”
The gash wound stung deeper.
Love him? Fuck, no.
Heinous bastards of my caliber were incapable of earning or reciprocating that emotion. Nicu should see the world kneel at his feet. And I deserved a treasonous execution, preferably after I served my father’s rotting carcass to The Dark Seasons on a platter. For the former to happen, the latter had to come first.
No bloodless, happily-ever-after alternative existed. That was the stuff of pipe dreams.
Because not every angelic songbird was immortal.
And not every devilish prince was redeemable.
