Page 43 of Sophie’s Ruin (Crimson and Shadows #2)

Now it made sense why Henry was so good at finding those who were lost—he’d done it before with Marcy. I wondered if he’d fought so hard for Isabelle because she reminded him of his little sister.

“What happened to them?”

Henry’s smile fell, and his features became so hard I knew they would feel like stone under my fingertips if I were to touch him. And I wanted to touch him. I wanted to wrap myself around him to shield him from the oppressive darkness that had descended on him.

“I was twenty-five when Vincent turned me. Marcy had been with us for six years at that point. She had just turned twelve and was beginning to learn from my mother, hoping to become a nurse one day…” Henry closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, the muscles of his face contorting as if he were in excruciating pain.

I hated seeing him like this, and I almost opened my mouth to tell him he didn’t have to finish the story, but before I could, he continued, “I was confused, deranged, and…hungry.”

My stomach dropped as Henry began to tremble, his hand shaking around mine.

“I felt so lost, and there was only one place I knew I would feel found again. I wanted to escape what I’d become, I wanted to go…home.” His voice broke on the last word, and he was breaking, too, crumbling right before my eyes.

When a vampire is first turned, the bloodlust is nearly impossible to control. I had Vincent by my side to guide me through it, but he couldn’t always be there to stop me when the hunger struck, Henry had told me before.

He’d wanted to go home, where his father could protect him from what he’d become, where his mother could offer a warm embrace and tell him he wasn’t a monster, where his sister’s light could banish the shadows.

Even in his deranged state, he’d been drawn to the safety of his home, to his safe haven.

But his family hadn’t been able to save him from himself. The bloodlust had prevailed.

A harsh exhale left Henry as he opened his eyes. He didn’t look at me, though. His black lashes swept down, and he lowered his gaze to the ground.

“I slaughtered them,” he said so low I could barely discern the words, even with my supernatural hearing.

Shame and sorrow poured out of him, and I finally understood why he carried this weight around him, this guilt.

His hand tightened around mine to the point of pain, as if I were his lifeline to this reality.

He needed me to tether him to the present lest he’d be lost in the horrible memories of the past forever.

I placed my other hand on top of his and pressed it in quiet support—I’m here.

“That’s why you don’t have portraits of them anywhere,” I said quietly. I’d wondered before why his bedroom was so bare, not offering even a glimpse into his past or who he was.

“I don’t need their portraits to remember them. Their faces are forever seared in my mind. For the longest time, I saw them every time I closed my eyes. They don’t haunt me as much as they used to, but I wish they still did because I don’t deserve a reprieve from the constant reminder.”

My chest constricted at his words because I knew it would be his face contorted in agony that I would see every time I closed my eyes. I hoped the image would haunt me for years to come because I needed to suffer for the pain I’d inflicted on him. I deserved it.

“So, you see, Sophie.” Henry lifted his gaze to mine. “If you are a monster, then I am one, too. In fact, I am worse than you. You slaughtered our enemies; I slaughtered innocent people. People I loved more than anything else in this world. People who trusted me.”

“It’s not the same,” I interjected. “You were not yourself. You were a new vampire, overcome by bloodlust.”

“And you are a new witch,” he pointed out.

“Perhaps when you become something new, something inhuman, the darkness is right there, hiding in the shadows, waiting to lure you to its side. It knows you’re vulnerable.

It can smell your fear, and it tries to sway you, testing you.

So, you have to give it everything you’ve got to stay true to yourself. ”

I thought it over, angling my head.

“Celeste said there are realms alongside this one and that there is a constant war between good and evil.”

“I believe it,” Henry said without hesitation. “The darkness is treacherous, always waiting for you to falter, ready to sink its claws in.”

“That’s no excuse for what I’ve done. You should be disgusted by me, by the things I’ve done. I’ve hurt you...” I went to turn away, unable to look at him.

“And I forgive you.” He cupped my face, holding me in place to make sure my gaze stayed on his. “Now, you just need to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I rasped, my voice raw. My insides were raw, too, as if my chest had been flayed open.

“You can and you will because it will make me happy. You want to make me happy, don’t you?

” His tone was serious, not teasing. He didn’t need to ask—he already knew the answer.

“Our love is bigger than what happened, than what you’ve done.

It will overcome it, but only if you let it.

Please…let it,” he whispered. “Don’t hold on to what happened.

Because if you do, you will be holding on to the darkness, inadvertently letting it win. ”