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Time runs together when I try to remember. The days come and go like ocean waves, steady and overwhelming, impossible to number.
Valentine knows I waver. When we're together the world is heady and intoxicating. When he is gone, I begin to see myself for what I am.
We live in an abandoned castle on the Scottish moors. Something unfortunate happened to the previous occupants. Their screams echo off the walls. I hear their phantom cries at night, invisible specters ease through the darkness. This place stood empty long before I arrived. I do not know what became of them.
I stand in a room with no windows. Candles burn in sconces on the walls. Flames crackle in the fireplace but bring me no warmth. A man lies at my feet.
He is surrounded by blood but carries no visible wounds. His mouth dark, as if he ate ripe berries and forgot to clean his face. Trails of blood run from his nose and ears to pool on the floor.
"Is he dead?" Valentine stands behind me. My dark shadow.
"Yes." The sound of my voice startles me. It is too deep and slow to be my own. I hear myself from a great distance. Like the light of far-flung stars, my own words take eons to reach me.
Hands touch my shoulders. They caress my arms and slide down to touch my wrists. "He offended you so much, then?"
"I --" I falter. Who is this man? I do not know his name or recognize his face. He only lies motionless on the dirty floor. I want to reach out and touch him but my body remains still. Panic wells inside of me. It is muffled, then quieted, suffocated out of existence before I have a chance to relish in the emotion. There is no life here.
"What have I done?" I ask softly.
Valentine squeezes my hands. His voice washes over me, enveloping me in the sound like a warm bath. "What you wanted to do."
I shake my head and the earth tilts on its axis. My eyes close as the world spins without me. An image is burned behind my lids: the man, a stranger, collapses to the ground as I will his life's blood to the surface. "I have no right—"
My body turns in a dancer's spin. I open my eyes. Valentine is so close that our lips touch when he whispers.
"Your power is your right." His breath caresses my cheek. "There is no right but what you say."
He turns over my hands so the palms face dim candlelight. I am surrounded by blood but my hands are clean. Destruction is my gift.
Heavy chain settles around my neck. I bring my fingers to the pendant that hangs in the hollow of my throat. The stone is cool to the first touch but warms as I slide my fingers across its smooth face.
"A gift." His fingers trace down the woven chain. I shiver when he touches the exposed skin at the curve of my throat. "You please me so."
His lips will be cool when they touch mine. I sway closer. I want to be lost in this moment forever.