Between Hate and Fate
“What’s wrong?”
I glance at her, debating whether to lie, but there’s no point. She’ll see through it. “I had a dream,” I mutter, leaning back in my chair.
“A dream?”
“More like a memory,” I admit, my jaw tightening. “The night I killed Andrei.”
Her expression shifts instantly, a flicker of something I can’t quite place crossing her face. She sets her coffee cup down and leans forward. “What happened in the dream?”
I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair. “The same thing that happened that night. I bit him and ripped out his throat. I felt his blood spill. I watched him collapse, but... I didn’t stay. I turned and ran.”
Bab Populer