Tila clutched him tighter, her breath shivering in and out of her lungs, uneven and ragged, like wind through cracked stone.
"Then… who am I?" she asked, voice cracked and empty, echoing faintly off the moldy walls.
"If she's not real, then what does that make me? A fraud? A puppet pulled together with shadows and fear?"
Kael's hands moved slowly, one up her back in a soothing glide, the other resting over her heart, steadying her frantic pulse with his warmth.
"No. You're someone who survived when no one came to help. Someone who created light in the middle of rot. You didn't fake anything. You lived—fiercely, against all odds."
"But I murdered them," she whispered, her black eyes squeezing shut, tears seeping from the corners.
"Everyone. Even when they begged. Even when they cried. They were monsters but I—" Her throat closed, a choke cutting off the words. "I was worse. I enjoyed it. I laughed. And Lila told me I was strong for doing it."
