Bad Fae | romantasy | Bad Fae #1

Chapter Thirty-Eight

But, after the tenderness of Samhain, when I attempted to wash the ache of him from me, I wondered how much that had been Dain and how much had been my grandmother's power controlling him. Was it the one worshipping me?

Dain's behaviour the next day certainly suggested it had had nothing to do with him. Like nothing had happened – which was our thing, fine – he went back to the brooding sexiness and smug disdain he'd lived in since the Shaden's return from the Darkrealm. He ignored me outside the time we spent in bed together and even that was wordless.

It pissed me off that I'd fallen for it. On Samhain. Not fallen for it but given into it.

My anger at Dain grew into an uncontrollable beast inside me. Anger at not just what I had done for him in Hollowglen, but that I still cared, that I was still drawn to him uncontrollably, that I still needed to know he wasn't about to be lost to the darkness.

For nearly seven years, my only mission had been to kill him, and I would be damned if I didn't see it through now. It would solve all my problems; without him in my life, I couldn't care anymore. I could get the revenge I'd spent a significant portion of my life planning and preparing for, and be free. The abyss could finally take me, and I would be free.

I convinced myself that was all I wanted; I didn't want Dain, I didn't want his body or his touch, I didn't want or need the freedom I had found since being bound to him. I wanted him dead. I drew my pain and anger out of the abyss until all I wanted and needed was to wipe him from the face of the earth.

Once he was gone, it wouldn't matter that I'd lose the second family I had found, who had taken me in and dared to try to love me. It wouldn't matter who killed me. It wouldn't matter if Feyrith followed through on his promised threats. Dain would be gone and I would be free, and I wasn't going to fail this time.

I tried to find my chance while we were sparring.

"You're feisty today, Milesian," Dain commented, a snarl on his face; he was as pissed with me as I was with him.

I just frowned at him and drew my knife.

"Oh, you want to kill me, Yana?" he taunted, clearly seeing the murderous intent in my eyes. "Well, I'm right here!"

I growled at him and tackled him to the ground.

My blade was against his heart, both my hands around the hilt of the dagger. I straddled his hips under a mockery that I was keeping him in place through more than will alone. His back lay flat on the floor below us and his arms spread wide. No resistance.

I can do this. No. Don't tug. I CAN do this. For my sanity, I can do this.

He looked up at me, that victory shining in his eyes, like I was doing exactly what he wanted. "Kill me then, Yana," he almost begged, a breathy plea that was in no way weak and everything seduction. "Kill me. Put an end to this once and for all. I deserve it, do I not? Think of what I did to them. Made you watch me do to them. Kill me."

My hands shook and I gripped the hilt of my dagger more tightly.

"Kill me, Yana. Show me how much you hate me." He half-sat up, pushing himself up on his elbows so the blade pressed against his skin, pricking just enough that a bead of red welled around the tip.

I didn't know why I was hesitating. He was completely at my mercy. It was taking more effort for me to stay the blade than it would to push it into his chest and watch what little light the dark possessed leave him.

But I couldn't do it.

No tug.

His fury, unbridled and joyous, as he'd ripped through my friends was visceral. I didn't need to close my eyes to see it with perfect clarity and yet... My heart caught in my chest as I looked down at him and imagined the one thing that I'd been working towards all this time; I imagined a world without him in it.