Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 15

I will never get my fill of this man, no time will ever be long enough, though this curse of mortality had taken some of his stamina away. I take him for everything he will give me, insatiable with my lack of a warlord for these long months. I'm positive there is not a soul that will tread down this hallway with the commotion we have stirred, but I find that I don't care as I curl up against his side. 

Verando watches the ceiling, his fingers trailing absently up and down my side. I'm sufficiently tired as I lay here, basking in the afterglow. I listen to the normal human heartbeat and think about the mild temperature; normally, I'd be baking by this point. Slowly, I glance up at his face and see he's deep in thought. I kiss his pectoral muscle, tracing my fingertips over the long scars like I've done so many times. 

"So you like this, huh?" I ask, tapping over his heart. 

I have to break the silence; we need to talk. 

"It's what I've always wanted," he admits finally. "My life hasn't been an easy one. I've always thought it'd be better if I were human." 

But he doesn't look happy; he looks exactly the same. His brows are pulled down, and his eyes are burdened with a thousand worries. It has never made sense to me. Humans are so fragile, and their life span seems so short compared to the offer of immortality.

The wolf was more like a gift than a curse, at least until this infection spread. "Before your father did what he did, the curse was manageable. It was just something that happened a few nights a month, even less if you were of basic descent. Now it's constant." He closes his eyes as he thinks it over, composing his words. 

People might like you if they got to know you. 

The wolf isn't here to squash down those feelings, to sew in the hatred of the inferior beings dragging them down. "It's like being in a crowded room at full volume all the time, but it's not just the wolf; it's your instincts, yourself, and this.. darkness- only it seems the darkness hasn't gone away."

"Darkness?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbow to examine his face. I watch my warlord squirm under my prying eyes. He'd never been comfortable sharing, yet I was desperate to know more about him, to find out what happened behind the somber expressions and the occasional exhale at nothing. At times, he looked so lost, even surrounded by crowds of people, or the nights when he sat awake despite being exhausted. 

I wished to know what burdened him so immensely. 

"My father wasn't a good man, Nic. I resented you so much at first, besides our circumstances. You were still... good... despite your lineage. You've always been on the side of what's right; I've given in so easily to my blood because I thought it couldn't be avoided. No matter how much I've tried to resist his teachings, what he ingrained into me is in here, and I let him win more often than I would like to admit." Verando closes his eyes in frustration with himself and I feel as though he's speaking about my feelings.

We share so many similarities, but our views of him as a person differ drastically. There was a time when I might have agreed with him- when I saw him as a beast, yet now that I know him, I could never think of describing him as anything of the sort.

"You are good," I tell him firmly. 

Verando scoffs at me. "I've killed a lot of people, Nic."

"We all have. This is war." 

"Deep down, the wolf is a predator; it always has been. There's a side of me that no one gets to see; I suppose it's in every lycan, the side that sees humanity as prey and the urge to hunt and to kill. Animals are usually enough, but sometimes nothing will satisfy the urge." Verando kisses the top of my head, taking in my scent, frowning at the fact that he no longer has the ability to savor it as he used to.