Page 155 of Psycho Gods

“I know what you mean,” I said after a weighty pause. “Obviously, not about the lack of sight, but I know the feeling of the walls closing in around you—invisible parameters crushing you while everyone lives freely.”

Scorpius glowered like he was suddenly enraged.

Unable to understand his change in demeanor, I kept explaining. “Others decide they know you. They label you a weak princess. A powerless fae. An incapable angel.” I trailed off, lost in memories as I whispered, “A whore.”

He clenched his fists and said darkly, “People act like they understand, but they don’t. They form their opinions and judge you. Nothing you do will change who they’ve decided you are.” He snapped his fingers. “The blind one is weak.” He snapped again. “Destroy the weak.”

I studied the mold that trailed across the ceiling and tried not to think about a fae palace dripping in gold and filled with pain.

I fingered the Necklace of Death. It warmed like it was trying to fill the hole inside my chest.

My voice sounded far away as I spoke. “And they never change. No matter how much you show them differently. They trap you so you can never escape. Some confines have no freedom.”

“All you can do is suffer,” Scorpius said hoarsely. “Endure.”

“And just the act of enduring is an act of strength,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe hurting them is the only freedom available.”

His perspective was fitting.

It didn’t make it any less brutal.

I countered, “Or maybe just surviving is the solution. Maybe you don’t have to hurt them, because just existing to defy their expectations enrages them. You don’t need to inflict the pain—you need to free yourself from them.” I nodded wistfully. “The dream is to build a life that is so satisfying, you forget the hell ever existed.”

He smirked at me. “Says the woman who ate her mother’s heart.”

“I never wanted to kill her,” I whispered.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” he said gruffly. “You took your vengeance. It’s impressive—you should be proud.”

“But I didn’t mean to. Sadie was in danger, and I had to do something because I couldn’t lose her. I wouldn’t survive a life without her.”

Scorpius’s smirk fell.

Intense emotions vibrated between us.

“I’d rather not kill others,” I blurted out awkwardly. “Mother was a monster, and I don’t want to be like her. I don’t want to perpetuate terror like she did. It’s exhausting.”

Scorpius’s frown deepened, the dark circles under his eyes appearing more purple under the fluorescent bulb.

“I’ll kill them for you,” he said casually, like he was talking about the weather.

I squinted at him. “I just said I don’t want them to die.”

“No.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You said you didn’t want to be a murderer. They don’t deserve to live for trapping you, and you don’t deserve to worry about becoming like your mother. The solution is simple: I’ll kill them.”

“You better not,” I warned him.

“Don’t worry.” He smirked, and it was vicious. “I won’t tell you when I do.”

“How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Because I’m killing your enemies for you,” he said.

“It’s not that simple,” I argued. “It’s a morality issue. Can’t you see that?”

He bared his teeth. “I can’t see anything.”