Page 154 of Eternal Ruin

Samson rested his fork and stared at her from across the table. Under the tablecloth, her fingers continued drawing her pentagon shape, her trust symbol, imbuing the room with brilliant gold. Small flecks rested on his shoulder, sinking into him.

He motioned with his hand, and she pushed back her chair, walking toward him. His slitted eyes ran down her figure for the first time. She was wearing a dress that exposed her arms and neck. For easy access.

Swiftly, Samson rose to his feet and tipped her neck backward. Her heart pounded. He was finally going for her neck. His razor-sharp fangs met with her throat. Samson’s want was a palpable force, suffocating. He imagined himself emperor standing before Susenyos’s court of vampires, holding what they all prized most—the three artifacts… And… a girl with fawn skin and a cascading laugh with a ring on her finger.

Talaa.

The court scene morphed to an image of Samson alone. In possession of the blade artifact. The renowned swords, silver and long, were like the surface of water and one swing from them could split the fine hair of a child. Samson tried to break them. According to the myths—the one who broke all three artifacts would become Sage. And yet… even pure supernatural strength could not bend it. Every muscle in his body tried nonetheless. When that didn’t work, Samson moved to fire. Yet no heat would melt the blades. Even when he dropped them into volcanic ash, they reemerged unblemished.

He showed Kidan all of it in sharp, cutting flickers. For decades, Samson had tried every method he could to break the artifact. It was impossible.

His fear was a venom-breathing dragon, his desire to succeed occupied every inch of his body.

Once he let her go, Kidan sagged into the chair and returned to the present slowly. Samson was watching her intently.

She rubbed the small punctures on her neck, trying to make sense of what she’d discovered. Not the location of the Nefrasi hideout or where the blade artifact was but something even more confusing.

“You… can’t break the blades, can you?” she said. “You’re afraid that after all these years, even with all the artifacts, they can’t be broken.”

Samson said nothing, still studying her with a mixture of confusion and anger. Kidan shifted uncomfortably at his silence. It dawned on her very quickly that Samson must have seen her desire. What had he seen?

“I can taste him all over you.” His eyes narrowed. “You want to free him.”

Fuck.

“He saved me. Once.” She opted for honesty, recovering. “I feel like I owe him.”

“It’s what he does. He chooses who’s worthy of life and who isn’t. Plays God. If he saved you, it means it cost him nothing.”

Trust threads flickered but didn’t disappear, so she pushed a little. “What happened to her? Talaa.”

A shimmer of pain crossed his face. “He killed her.”

“What?”

Pure hatred rioted in Samson’s eyes, enough to make Kidan lean back in the chair.

“Do you know how it feels to lose the only person that understood you, heiress? There is no more light in the world without her. There can be no more light. No more laughter. And once I’m Sage, if I cannot have her, I will teach the world true darkness.”

Kidan didn’t breathe until he pulled on his coat, checked his watch, and said, “I need to meet your fucking professor. Don’t go downstairs.”

He left the house. The light above Kidan flickered rapidly, and the walls shuddered in warning, along with her pounding heart rate. She’d never known such absolute ruin and hatred in one soul. Complete surrender to revenge.

Kidan got to her feet quickly and grabbed a bowl of water before going to Susenyos’s prison. She tried to shake the chill of Samson’s words, but it followed her closely, seeping into her bones. She imagined a world under the rules and laws of a new Sage. The choice to save or destroy resting in the palm of one’s hand—it was terrifying. Exhilarating.

Iniko and Taj would be nearby, keeping an eye out for when Samson returned, so she kept her phone close.

She opened the cellar and went to Susenyos. Using the dim bulb present, he was readingThe Mad Loversin the corner, making some sort of tally in the margins. The sight made her smile a little. A soft hum surrounded them.

His cheek was drying a dark red, and dirt covered his hands and face. There had to be bruises but his bloodied shirt hid them. Kidan knelt before him, anger burning a pit in her stomach.

“Are you…”

Susenyos winced as he put his book aside. “I’m fine.”

Her throat constricted, wishing all of this would be over soon.

Quietly, she started to clean his face. Right where she had sliced him with the knife. He watched, hissing softly when it stung.