Waking up to my sin
I whispered into the darkness of the room, the words a silent vow I would renew every single morning for the rest of my life.
I wasn't a good man. I was under no illusions about my soul. The things I had done in London, the blood I had spilled on that white quartz floor, the lives I had systematically ruined to build this sanctuary—they were sins that would follow me to the grave and beyond. I was a man of shadows, a creature of the very world I had just destroyed. But as I held the woman who had learned to bite back, the woman who had looked into the abyss and told it to blink, I knew with a chilling certainty that I would do it all again.