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The organ in my chest constricted, looking at Colton. Seeing the devastation on his face, I was clutched with the reality that he might not actually survive this. Living with himself now might’ve been unbearable. And even if he didn’t take the conventional way out of living with himself, I didn’t forget that Shay had mentioned a darkness within him.

Wouldn’t it be easier for Colton to let that darkness in? If he didn’t swallow a bullet, that was.

I put my mug down, panic curdling the coffee in my stomach. “Yep, there are families with empty seats at their tables. And that’s because of you. Because you were cursed. A crucial detail you seem to be forgetting because you’re so determined to punish yourself with blame.” I drummed my fingers along the edge of the coffee mug. “Because you’ve lived in a world with right and wrong, heroes and victims. Now you get to see behind the curtain where there are demons, witches, curses, and apparently, angels.” I gave him a wink, though I didn’t feel quite as jaunty about my newfound identity as I made it out to be.

I also wasn’t about to mope around like Colton. It was too depressing.

Colton’s expression changed ever so slightly as he ran his eyes over me with a renewed sense of shock, worry. Maybe he was only just remembering that I’d had my entrails hanging out of my stomach the previous night, among other things.

He rounded the kitchen, turning me in my barstool so he could yank my shirt up.

“I didn’t take you as a man who forgoes consent.” I didn’t know what else to say as he exposed my lace boy shorts and stomach.

But Colton’s eyes were not on the scrap of lace doing a poor job of covering my pussy. No, his widened gaze was focused on the pink healing gash, the claw marks of a demon prince. They’d darkened, almost solid black, like tattoo lines, around them. I wondered if they’d stay like that, if even my angelic blood couldn’t completely erase the touch of a demon.

There were still some bruises littering my torso, but they looked older, fading, nothing to communicate the beating he’d seen me take.

“You done?” My tone was casual, but only because I forced it to be that way. I didn’t like how exposed I was, not just literally but with the reality of what I was. I couldn’t face that. That’s why I’d drunk myself to sleep last night and would likely do it again for many nights to come.

He released my shirt, tugging it down to cover my thighs as if he were concerned about my modesty. The old Colton still remained. At least a portion of him.

“Sorry.” He sounded sheepish. “But I saw… you’re…” Trailing off, he dragged his hand over his jaw.

“Yeah, we both found out some nifty little details about ourselves.” I chuckled. “At least we’re not alone in that we were both lied to by our parents.”

At the mention of my parents, Colton stilled, his body stiffening, face paling.

He was remembering. What he did. I remembered too. Their screams, the stench of their blood, and the sight of their organs being ripped apart by large claws.

Then I watched him shake himself, bring me back into focus. “How is any of this real?”

I’d seen enough victims of the supernatural—the ones that survived—wrestle with the upending of their worldview; this was more familiar territory.

I shrugged. “It just is. Finding out about what truly goes bump in the night is no picnic. Nor is finding out, well, everything you have.” Though I didn’t have the ability to speak softly, I did have empathy in my tone. You’d have to be a monster not to. Which I technically was.

In a moment that shocked the shit out of me, Colton dropped to his knees, laying his head on my lap. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Hadley?” His voice was as broken as his spirit. Torn. Hopeless.

I stared down at him, not knowing what to do. Eventually, I ran my fingers through his hair awkwardly. To my surprise, the gesture became comforting to me too.

“You’re gonna carry the fuck on. You’re going to hash it out with your family. Find a way to forgive them. Forgive yourself. I don’t have strong feelings on whether you forgive your fiancée or not.” I couldn’t help but add that.

“Fuck.” He sighed, pushing himself up. Considering his expression, the action seemed to require all the strength in his body. “What are you going to do now?” he asked me.

That was the million-dollar question. “I have no fucking idea.” My response was honest. “My job.”

“Your job,” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Hunting monsters,” I clarified.

His eyes widened. “Your job is hunting monsters.”

I watched the cogs turn in his mind. Even while nursing the mighty hangover of a decade-long witch curse, he could decipher my vague explanations about employment, my apparent acceptance of supernatural creatures, and my ability to fight them. Not that I had showcased my best skills while fighting the demon prince.

I nodded. “But don’t worry, you’re safe. You were cursed. Apparently, your pack doesn’t murder people, so they’re off the hook too. Don’t get hungry for human hearts, and we’re golden.” I smiled at him.

He looked down at his hands, not seeming to find me humorous.

“So you’re leaving,” he voiced what I’d already decided upstairs.