Bittersweet - Book Two

Ch. 2 - Faded

I feel so bad for not updating, I've been on a half-year hiatus. (crying emoji)

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. ;)

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'Hate builds like scars on the most delicate skin. It builds you up but it serves as a reminder of your broken soul.'

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No matter how hard someone tries, it's difficult to remove a burning image from the mind. If it's a vivid memory you can bet anything that it would take a limitless amount of meditation to forget. My attempt at trying to forget her face has become futile. Of course, I can't forget at all, I look just like her and apparently, I am her and for some insane reason, her spirit is still alive.

She caused a lot of pain and it is my greatest wish that she would stop. Alive or not.

Rath helped me to learn that my soul is even older than I thought it was. He conducted research, in other words, asked one of his demons to look into the archives, and found that I've been a wandering spirit. Datura wasn't lying when she mentioned something about me getting a body. What puzzles the two of us is what she said next. Her mention of a deal I made with the devil had me thinking about all of my poor life choices. I'll be known in history as the woman who always made the wrong deals.

I hold the crumpled piece of paper in my hand and grit my teeth. The letter S stares back at me with invisible eyes - haunting me like a ghost in the night. What bothers me the most is the fact that one letter can stand for either Scarlett or even Sebastian.

I hear a very loud and exhausted sigh and I look up with a glare. Across the table, sits a very amused Rath, who has vowed to watch me in peril as I desperately try to decode the damn note. I don't care if he is the Demon King, I don't want his useless opinions and I-told-you-so attitude.

I don't want him here.

He raises a brow at me and smirks, just before leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. When I first met Rath he was a soul-sucking, motorcycle model wanna-be with an attitude. You'd think that after a month of seeing his face every day I would have grown accustomed to his presence. I haven't the slightest -his ego is too big for his already massive body.

"You know what, Kitten? I think you may be overthinking this a little bit."

I roll my eyes and slump against my chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He shrugs his shoulders and closes his eyes. I grit my teeth and think of ways to get him to stay quiet. He knows and he won't tell me. He's being your typical, powerful, know-it-all creature - he'll sit there and watch you fail miserably until you ask for a small hint in hopes of going in the right direction. "You know who wrote that note, you just won't admit it."

His tone of voice and attitude has me wanting to bite my own head off. He may be right and I may be over thinking, but I know it couldn't possibly happen. "That is impossible," I say adamantly.

"What, that I'm right?" He peeks one eye open. He does a side grin and I see a quick flash of his pearly whites. His sharp jaw looks as if it's ready to cut someone. "You know I am."

"No," I say while pulling myself up to stand. My hands remain on the table, while I hit him with a wary look. He looks right back at me with his dark eyes and pops his chair back in place. The heat I'm feeling on my skin seeps into my flesh and muscles. "And even if you were, I won't let anything happen."

"It's been three weeks, Saphira."

"Don't remind me." I fold the note neatly and place it back in my pocket.