Weakness Has A Name

10

Thorne,

The room was quiet—too quiet.

Regardlessly, I stepped in.

The room was dimly lit, shadows curling around the walls like ghosts. The faint sound of water dripping echoed from the far side. From the bathroom.

I closed the door behind me, slowly, quietly. I expected to see her curled up on the bed or pacing like she usually did when angry. But the room was empty. My brows furrowed.

She wasn’t gone, no one could get past Scott and Vigil. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

The sink was running. Careless. Or deliberate.

I took slow, careful steps toward the sound, the floorboards creaking under my boots.

Something snapped in me, some primal instinct too slow to rise.

By the time I turned toward the sound, she lunged.

The glint of the knife caught the light first. Then her eyes, wild, burning with fury.

Before I could react, the blade came down. I caught it midair with my palm. I realized I could have dodged it, she was slow. I could see her moves in slow motions, but I hesitated.

Blood spilled between my fingers.

The pain was sharp. Real.

Her hands shook from the force, but her expression stayed firm.

“Elena...” I started.

But she pulled back, yanking the knife from my hand and staggering a few steps. I let her go. Let her have that moment.

I stood there, blood dripping onto the cold floor.

She looked at me, truly looked, and her confidence wavered. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the handle tighter.

Her chest rose and fell fast, her breaths uneven. Her eyes widened, not in fear, but in disbelief.

"You should’ve killed me," she whispered, her voice brittle. "Isn’t that what you came here to do?"

I didn’t answer. I stepped toward her, slow. She didn’t retreat, but her grip loosened.

"Why didn't you dodge?" she asked.

“I could’ve,” I said, voice low. “But I didn’t want to.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she hated that it did.

“I hate you,” she spat.

“If seeing my blood will make you smile, then go on.”

She moved again. Fast. The knife slashed across my shoulder this time, clean, deep.

I gritted my teeth as pain surged, but I didn’t stop her. I didn’t stop myself.

I caught her wrist mid-swing, holding it firmly as blood trailed down my sleeve.

“Do it right,” I whispered against her ear. “If you're going to stab me, make it count.”

Her breath hitched.

She tried to wrestle free, but I pulled her close. My other hand wrapped around her waist, holding her against me.

Her struggle was raw, desperate. I could feel the confusion in her body, half fury, half hesitation.

"You want revenge?" I said, letting the blood drip between us. “I told you I’d give it to you, without my willingness you can't do anything.”

She yanked herself out of my grip and stumbled back. Her eyes were wide, not from what she’d done but from what it had felt like.

She stared at my shoulder, at the blood that was hers now.

The knife clattered to the ground.

“You didn’t think I’d bleed?” I said, crouching slightly as the sting pulsed.

“You think this is revenge?” she snapped. “You think bleeding a little changes anything?”

She moved closer again, her voice venom. “No. I want to see you rot from the inside. I want to take everything you love and destroy it. I want to watch you unravel and lose your mind. That’s the revenge I want.”

“You think you can break me?” I asked, my voice dry.

She smiled coldly. “I know I can.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that followed, it was low, almost bitter.

“I have nothing left to break, Elena,” I murmured. “No family. No love. No hope. You can’t kill what’s already dead.”

She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine for weakness. “We’ll see about that,” she whispered. “I’ll find the crack in you, and when I do, you’ll fall to your knees and beg me for mercy.”

Something inside my chest twisted, tight and violent. A pain I hadn’t felt in years. It gripped my heart like claws. I staggered slightly.

My hand flew to my chest. It felt like my ribs were caving in.

"Help! Thorne?" she whispered, confused now.

I tried to answer, but the pain choked the words.

“B-Boss!” A voice broke the silence. Vigil.

He burst through the door, saw the blood, the knife on the floor, the expression on Elena’s face and reached for his gun.

“Don’t,” I rasped.

Vigil hesitated.

I kicked the weapon from his hand before he could aim.

“Just bring the first aid,” I growled, barely managing to stay upright.

Vigil nodded stiffly and disappeared.

Elena stood frozen, watching me.

“What was that?” I asked, still breathing heavily. “You calling out for help?” I smirked, even in pain. “For me?”

“I’m not a demon like you,” she said sharply. “And I’m not a murderer. It’s normal to react that way after stabbing someone, especially the first time. I won't miss your heart the next time, and I won't scream for help.”

Her face was cold.

I smiled again, she didn’t realize how much she sounded like someone else.

But she wasn’t Zoey. She didn’t have that hollow, calculated emptiness. She had a soul. And it shook. I was a fool to have mistook her for Zoey. She's too innocent to be her.

Vigil returned with the box. I took the iodine and bandages myself.

“Clean up the mess,” I told him. My tone flat, businesslike.

He started wiping the floor, silent.

I poured iodine over the cut, sharp, biting. I didn’t flinch.

Elena didn’t look away.

"You can’t take revenge if remorse is in your way," I told her, wrapping the bandage tightly. “You feel too much.”

She stayed silent, but her eyes narrowed.

“You should be grateful,” I added, pulling my shirt back on. “I cleared your bloodline for you. Zoey spared you, because she thought you were her and can serve for this purpose for you to pay for her sins. That’s the only reason you were alive before I met you. And after I met you? Because I spared you.”

“You think I should thank you for murdering my family?” she asked, voice quiet, but fierce.

“No,” I said, shrugging. “But your revenge was only possible because I let you live. Think about that.”

I turned to Vigil. “Make sure she doesn’t leave the estate. Let her roam. But if she escapes…” I didn’t finish.

He nodded.

But as I glanced back at Elena, the smirk I wore earlier faded.

I realized something terrifying.

She didn’t look like someone who would run.

She looked like someone who was going to stay...

And burn the whole house down.