Eve
Hades' words felt like a dagger to the chest, each syllable twisting deeper.
Eve is dead.
I couldn't take it. I couldn't take another second of him speaking about me as if I were some distant memory, some ghost that haunted him through me. Like he hated me as much as Ellen had. It was too much to bare.
I was afraid that it would unravel me and that in the anger and hurt that those words of his incited I would snap and blurt out the truth of my identity. That the floodgates would open and not only engulf me but the Silverpine and the innocents who had no hand in this conspiracy.
Before I could think—before I could stop myself—I grabbed blindly for his collar, fingers curling into the fabric with a desperation that burned hotter than shame.
My lips crashed against his, hard and pleading but demanding all in the samr breath.
