Chapter 251. Defective

Chapter 251: 251. Defective

Maisie

I was at the Ridge again. The smell of blood and ash coated my throat like the stench of poison.

It was my fault. It was always my fault.

It didn’t matter how many times I told myself it should’ve been me. How many times I wished it would be me. I deserved it. Not him. Never him. It didn’t change anything.

My cries deafened me as I lifted the bloodied dagger and stabbed him through the heart.

"Maisie."

Blood splattered across my face as I punched the dagger in his chest again.

"Bright Eyes," he choked, blood sputtering from his lips, the look of betrayal in his brown eyes twisting a different kind of knife in my soul.

His hands closed over mine and I sobbed as he helped me sink the knife a little deeper. "You did this," he hissed in pain. "Everything you touch dies. Your love kills."

"N-no–Lyon–"

"Maisie!"

Tessa gripped my chin and turned my face to hers. "Look what you’ve done, whore."

I glanced down at the body beneath me and a scream of anguish ripped out of me. Dark brown hair was red. Brown eyes were now green. And I lifted my gaze ahead and found three more bodies. Lifeless. Broken beyond repair. And my hands were thick with their blood.

"You should kill yourself," Tessa said. "It’s the least you could do."

I turned the knife on myself. And plunged it through my chest.

"Maisie!" A guttural snarl woke me and I found violet eyes latched onto mine. And amber ones. And green. And blue. There were... hands... hands on me... their hands... touching me... my face, my skin, tearing my skin, scarring me.

Yelling. They were yelling at me. Wailing. Begging. The cacophony tore at my ears like shards of glass.

Cruel grey eyes shone above mine, and female deep laughter echoed from every point as Tessa strangled me. "You lose," she crooned. "You’ll always lose."

I screamed, lashing out. My nails scraped along skin, my fist hitting against what felt like brick walls. "Stop!" I sobbed, voice hoarse from screaming. "Leave! Me!Alone!"

"May!"

I grunted, lashing at the things I couldn’t see. My claws ripped free and I splashed the air in front of me. The smell of fresh blood teased my nostrils. I thrashed, slashing the air again. I couldn’t breathe.

"It’s okay," a dark voice said. It didn’t sound like Tessa. A weight settled over me, circling my wrists. They pinned me down as I screamed and kicked, but they didn’t cage me or break me. "You’re okay."

Okay? Nothing would ever be okay again.

My nails curled and my head shook as I fought back.

"Maisie, listen to me," came that voice again. "You’re safe. Safe.Come back to us."

My vision flickered, and instead of Tessa’s face above mine, I found Quinlan’s. His blue eyes searched my face. He was panting as hard as I was, and blood dropped down his slashed chest.

Soren knelt beside him and his face had three deep gouges across it, barely missing his eye. Mercer’s nose was broken and the size of his neck was bleeding just as profusely.

My hands were covered in blood. Their blood.

I–I did that to them.

"Don’t–Don’t touch me!" I cried, body thrashing. "Don’t touch–" I wheezed, "--me!"

Quinlan let me go at once, and I scrambled off the bed, pushing past them in a blind rush. I barely made it to the bathroom before my legs failed me.

I dropped to my knees and retched onto the marble.

An acrid taste filled my mouth, mingling with the salt of tears I hadn’t realized were already falling.

Soft footsteps echoed behind me and I felt them behind me. They didn’t cross the threshold into the bathroom, and I was grateful for it. The little coward, I was.

Didn’t want them seeing me this way. Hated that they had found me like that. I had hidden it the best I could.

Tried to function like a normal person while I got chased by my own demons when I let myself relax enough to let go. Sleep had become something I feared, much like the blood currently staining my hands.

I never should have come here with Soren.

When I tried to stand, the world tilted violently and strong arms caught me before I could fall into my own puke.

Warmth. So much warmth, my body felt like it was carved from ice, and it sunk in then, how cold and alone I’d been.

My fingers curled in his–Jericho’s–ruined shirt and I clung desperately to him. Hated how feeble I felt in that moment, needing the safety of his arms to know I was still alive, to know they were still alive.

I hated the broken, shuddering gasps that left my mouth as I pressed my face into the curve of his neck.

I hated that he didn’t ask any questions. That he clung to me just as fiercely and offered his neck, his body to me, like he could shield me from what even he didn’t know, didn’t understand.

And I hated it most when the others closed in on me too, like they could tell something was fractured inside me. Like they didn’t need the bond to realise I needed them.

A hand ran up and down my back in soothing strokes. "You’re safe, malyshka." Another cradled the back of my head gently. Like I was still worth something. "It’s okay, love."

The dam inside me cracked.

"I-It–me... my fault," I gasped. "Should’ve been me. I–I lost... lost it..." Hiccup. "I lost it. I’m sorry. I lost it. Should’ve–should’ve b-been me–" Gasp. "It s-should’ve been m–me–"

The words wouldn’t change. The horror of it wouldn’t leave me.

I couldn’t stop saying them, couldn’t breathe properly between words, couldn’t... fix me. I was defective. Broken. And they would realize it soon and abandon me.

"Breathe, May," Mercer said to me, but I couldn’t and my words slurred, my eyes growing heavy.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, lashes fluttering shut as a single tear escaped. And everything went quiet.