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"You're my goddess," I murmur softly, "my wife, my partner," I lay another kiss on her cheek, tasting fresh tears, "my everything. And that means we rule together."

"Sometimes you're too sweet." She lifts her hand to stroke my jaw, her lips widening in a gorgeous smile.

"Only for you, hell girl. You're my one exception."

"And you're mine," she replies, twinning her arms behind my neck and tugging me toward her, our lips meeting in a heart-stopping kiss.

Truth is, everything I'm doingisfor her, and willalwaysbe for her. Including facing my past.

Because I know we'll never be able to live in peace with so many loose threads hanging over our heads.

25

VLAD

The images come unbidden.My brows twitch as I see myself going deeper and deeper into a foreign landscape, the entire scenery unfamiliar and confounding.

Yet one thing is for sure.

This is me.

"You have twenty minutes to complete the task," a voice rings out through a speaker.

I look around me, establishing my environment.

The room is the size of a stadium, bleak gray walls surrounding it. In front of me, there are a few walls that look like obstacles, all of different sizes, obscuring what lays behind them. There is a big board close to the ceiling displaying the names of all the participants, each having a zero next to it—the score for today's game.

To my right and left, I see other children, all around my age. They are in a tense position, their eyes focused as they are waiting for the signal.

I don't know how I know that, but I just do.

In fact, the entire situation feels somehow off. I feel like myself, but yet my mind feels empty for some reason. There's asteely determination to win against all odds. I see it clearly how the only thing that matters is victory.

Aside from that, I can't feel anything.

There's no fear, no worry—nothing. I pat myself down to make sure my weapons are in their designated spots, and at the same time I get the opportunity to check that I am in fact human.

There's a hollowness in my mind that I've never encountered before. Even in my worst moments, I've never been this empty. Like my entire body is just a case housing an absent consciousness.

Still, there's a sharpness to my gaze as I filter and catalogue everything around me. I take note of how many people I'm competing against and I'm making ten simultaneous plans—one for each potential move my enemy might make.

"On your positions," the voice from the speakers announces, and I flex my knees, ready to take off at the designated time.

My hands are wrapped around the hilts of knives secured to my waist, and I know that I will let no one beat me at this.

In fact, my mouth pulls up as I imagine the river of blood that will flow from my hands—the only positive emotion I've felt so far.

The signal is given and everyone starts running.

I don't know much about the obstacles or what lays behind the walls, but I know that nothing can stop me.

I pass the first wall, and I see from the corner of my eyes a small automatic weapon hidden in the floor. It's swift and silent as it opens up and starts shooting toward us.

One boy gets nabbed in the arm, while another gets shot in the face, his entire skull exploding before my eyes, pieces of blood, bone and brain matter scattering across the floor with some landing on me too.

I smirk as I duck and dodge, watching the twitch of the weapon closely and calculating angles.

From the first moment I noticed it, I started observing for patterns, the way the body would slightly tilt to one degree in either direction before loading up to shoot.