Chapter 308
Chapter 308:
Her words crack something inside me, and a choked sound escapes my throat. My walls, the ones I’ve spent years building, are crumbling. The weight of my guilt, my fear, my grief—it’s too much. It’s tearing me apart.
“I killed him,” I whisper, the confession tasting like acid on my tongue. “I killed Aiden p>
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans closer, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into her warmth. I bury my face in her neck, my body trembling as the tears I’ve held back for so long finally break free.
She holds me tighter, her fingers stroking through my hair, whispering soft words that I can barely hear through the roar in my head.
“It’s not your fault,” she murmurs, over and over. “It’s not your fault, Ryder. I’m here. I love you. I’m here p>
Her words are a lifeline, a fragile thread pulling me back from the edge. The demon in me snarls, fighting to take control, but her presence, her love, keeps it at bay.
The night stretches on, the shadows clinging to the corners of the room. My sleeplessness, my restlessness—it’s back. The old familiar ache that gnaws at me, that won’t let me rest.
But tonight, Jasmine is here. Her body pressed to mine, her warmth seeping into my cold, fractured soul. And for now, that’s enough to keep the darkness at bay.
Jasmine’s POV
The world outside is fucking quiet, black, and cold—the kind of dark that feels like it wants to devour you. The faintest glimmer of dawn touches the edges of the sky, but it’s useless. It’s still too fucking dark.
The room is dead quiet, pressing down on me like a goddamn vice. Ryder’s next to me, his body rigid under the sheets, chest heaving like he’s running from a nightmare he can’t escape. His breaths are shallow, fast, like he’s on the brink of breaking. A low, strangled sound crawls out of his throat, and it’s the kind of noise that makes my stomach twist into knots.
I sit up, my heart hammering, my skin prickling with dread. Something’s fucking wrong.
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His face is twisted—twisted like he’s fighting off the devil himself. Sweat beads on his forehead, glistening under the faint moonlight. His jaw’s clenched so tight it looks like he’s about to shatter his teeth. The cords in his neck are pulled taut, like they’re about to snap. His hands are buried in the sheets, fingers clutching so hard they’re ghostly white.
Then it happens.
A scream rips out of him, raw and brutal. It splits through the silence and tears me open from the inside out. The kind of scream you only let out when something inside you is burning alive.
“Ryder!” I gasp, my hands shaking as I reach for him. I need to wake him, to pull him out of whatever fucking abyss is swallowing him whole.
His eyes snap open, wide, wild, and vacant. His chest heaves, the air around him suddenly toxic, like it’s trying to choke him. For a split second, he doesn’t see me—he’s trapped in that fucked-up darkness, drowning, spiraling.
But then his gaze lands on mine, and the sheer agony I see there almost knocks me flat. It’s like looking into a fucking hurricane—chaos, fury, and devastation swirling beneath the surface.
“Ryder,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I cup his face. My fingertips are ice against the fire of his skin. “It’s me. You’re here. You’re safe p>
He doesn’t answer. He just shakes, the tremors running through him so fierce I can feel them under my hands. His teeth grind together, his jaw working like he’s barely holding back a scream, a sob, or maybe a fucking war.