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She gave him a nod.

It was clear that she wanted him to remove the mask. This was the second time she would try to do it.

He took a deep breath in a bid to calm himself. It was only a mask, after all. And yet the longer her hand lingered on his mask, the faster his heart beat. His head swam as panic seized him.

He knew then that he simply could not do it.

All she had to do was take a look at his scars and she would be revolted by him. He could not afford to let her see his scars.

And yet, when he looked at her, his heart melted.

She looked angelic with that expectant, innocent look on her face. At that moment, he wished he could do what she wanted.

But he had failed. He knew it as he pulled away from her.

She looked disappointed—hurt, even—as he moved away from her.

Edwin shook his head, willing himself not to return to her arms. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she followed him, concern etched on her face.

He could not help the rush of affection he felt towards her at that moment. He realized with a pang that he was irrevocably in love with her. There was no use denying it.

This is why I must stay away from her.

He would only break her heart if he did not stay away. Ava was pure and kind, and she was everything that he was not. How could he love someone like that?

He rose to his feet and began to put on his clothes.

“Edwin!” she gasped.

He knew he would bring her nothing but pain. For the second time, he had been unable to remove his mask, and now he knew that she was hurt by his action—or rather, the lack of it.

He was simply too unpredictable, too dangerous, and itterrifiedhim. He was afraid to give in, to allow himself to love her and be with her, for he knew he would only hurt her in the end.

He simply did not deserve her.

When he was fully dressed, he cast a glance at her before turning to the door, unable to bear the wounded tears in her eyes. “I shall be leaving now.”

With that, he walked out of her room, even as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

CHAPTER 22

Edwin coughed as he sat up in the creaky bed. The bed was quite uncomfortable, but it was the only thing he could get.

His head pounded like a war drum, and the sunlight streaming in through the window only worsened it.

He rose to his feet and made to draw the curtain to block the sun’s torturous glare. However, before he could get to the window, he stepped on something and nearly fell.

He swore under his breath as he held on to the wall to steady himself. He peered closely at the object that had tripped him and found it was a bottle.

Memories of the previous night came flooding back. Images of him downing drink after drink, even long after Magnus had left.

He shook the memories off and finally drew the curtain.

His head did not stop pounding. However, he could now suffer in a darkened room instead of dealing with the glaring sun.

He sighed in relief as he returned to the bed, his body sinking into the flimsy straw he had lain on the whole night. This uncomfortable sleeping situation was a far cry from the luxury he was used to in his house. But he could not quite complain—this was his punishment.

More memories of Ava flashed through his mind. The expectant look on her face when she had lifted her hand to his mask. The flicker of hurt in her eyes when he had pulled away. The tears welling up in her eyes when he had left her room.