Page 16 of Treasured

Murderer.

The word echoed in my mind. Tears pricked behind my eyes. I heaved, taking shuddering breaths.

I was a murderer. A killer. The very person I had always vowed I would never become. It didn’t matter then that the Fledgling had been trying to kill us. It didn’t matter that she’d attacked us first.

All I knew, all that mattered, was that I’d been the one holding the stake that was now lodged in her heart. I was the one who’d looked her in the eyes as she died. And I was the one who had stolen her life.

My stomach heaved, and I threw up until nothing was left.

Still, my shoulders shook.

Murderer, murderer, murderer.

The shadows inside me, the pulsing in my brain, and even the ache in my heart echoed the word until it was all I heard.

My breath came in short bursts, and my head spun. I lifted my trembling hands and stared at them. Smaller than Sebastian’s, they were the hands of an academic. A scientist. They had studied life—and now, they had taken it.

I just killed someone.

“Luna.”

My eyes closed at the soft sound of Sebastian’s voice. Would he see me differently now that I’d killed someone? Would he hate me? A new fear ran through me. I couldn’t lose him. He was the steady force in my life. I needed him.

What would I do if he hated me?

He called my name again, but I couldn’t answer. Not yet.

When I didn’t reply, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I clung to him, burying my face against his tunic. My lungs struggled to draw breath as the implications of what I’d done settled into me. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop the trembling.

His fingers ran over my shoulders, my arms, and my torso as though he was checking for injuries. “Are you okay?”

My eyes stung. I didn’t even try to stop the tears this time. Those damned blood tears streaked down my cheeks.

No.

I was not okay.

Not at all.

Every fiber of my being screamed at me for what I had just done.

I was a killer.

“Luna?” he asked again, his voice even softer.

“I-I killed her,” I whispered, looking at him through a river of tears. “I killed her.” Hearing it did not help anything. It did not make things better. If anything, now, it was worse. Now, it was really real. An undeniable truth. “I’m a murderer.”

“No.” Sebastian pulled back, grasping my arms and forcing me to look at him. “You’re not.”

“I am,” I argued. “She’s dead by my hand, and now you probably hate me.”

His eyes widened. “You saved yourself, Luna. You picked yourself, and you made the right choice. I would never hate you for that.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “Darling, hating you would be like hating myself.”

“Maybe we could have saved her,” I said.

“No. She was lost to bloodlust. You did the right thing.”

I stole a look at the corpse in the snow. Broken. Dead. My fault.