Page 104 of Ballad of Nightmares

Sam slowed, a hesitation in his movements, calculations in his next moves. But Ana stood her ground. She watched as his jaw twitched, eyes shifting to the floor.

“Is this what you’ve sat up thinking about for our last few hours together?” he asked in a low voice. “Is this the reason you’ve stared out the window and felt like a stranger beneath me? Why you were just begging me to stay?”

His words made her heart pick up, and after a few more silent moments, she realized she had yet to say anything. How could she? She didn’t even knowwhatto say. Why this was different from letting any other man fall at her feet and then leave. Fuck, why had she not thought this through. This wasSam.

This was Sam…

Her shoulders nearly caved as she struggled not to break. As she pushed away the threatening tears, the burning behind her nostrils, the weight pressing against the backs of her knees.

His eyes lifted to hers as he turned toward her, and for the briefest of moments, fear washed through her body.

And she wasn’t sure why.

Lie, Ana, she told herself.Fucking say something.

“Speak, Ana,” came his demand.

She flinched at the abrupt sharp and twisting tone of his voice, like a knife cutting the thick air. His body was so incredibly motionless that she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

But Sam continued, his blackened eyes never leaving hers, as he said, “Speak with this conviction you seem to be so sure of. Break my heart as you mean to.”

Ana shifted as she finally found her voice. “This… you and me… It’s over,” she forced out. “I cannot see you anymore.”

There was something about the abrupt turn in Sam’s features that continued to chill her. He looked as if his world had just turned to dust. His hand wrapped around the top of the chair that his jacket had just been lying across, and he squeezed. Squeezed to the point that the wood seemed to melt beneath his grasp.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered in a threatening breath.

Ana stared at him, and as her heart shattered into glass around her bare feet, she reached inside for the most painful part of herself. For the cruel and the ruthless. For the temptress, the liar, the thief.

The true Tower.

“Does it matter?” she snapped. “I do not want to see you again. Why can that not be a reason?”

“Everything…” he began, his voice still quiet. “Everything we shared the past few days, the tattoos, you saying you’re mine, all of that… did it all meannothing?Am I… Am I not enough for you?”

The question nauseated her just as it had the day before.

However, she didn’t let it get to her, and instead, her chin lifted higher, arms curling over her chest, and every emotion—save for greed and pride—evacuated her bones.

“Did you honestly think I loved you?”

And her voice came out in such a haunting whisper that she swore Sam really did stop breathing. He stood wholly still as she continued to speak, eyes not even daring to blink.

Ana had been challenged by broken-hearted men in the past. Had seen rage wipe across their brows and end with them bleeding out on the floor.

She wondered if that was how this would end.

“What could you ever give me?” she hissed. “You’re nothing, Sam. A means to an end. A goodfuck. Nothing more.”

Sam let go of the chair, eyes down casting to the floor, only Ana didn’t stop.

“You have never meant any more to me than the dirt on my boots. You’re a lowly demon. A groundskeeper and an artist, for fuck’s sake. You could never give me the things I deserve or the life I want. You’re trash, Sam. I have stepped in shit that was worth more than you.”

He took one step in her direction, his shoulders rounding, and Ana side-stepped in the path of the kitchen.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, in a calmer voice than she expected.

“Because you were right to worry yesterday if you would ever be someone I could love.”