Madeline’s pov.
An endless terror, a nightmare. I tasted fear on my lips as I stared down at my own bloodied, trembling hands. The blood was not mine. Instead it was… my eyes trailed towards the door of my room.
Aliya was seated on the floor with blood running down her arms, an injury that didn’t seem to be healing and Benny was pressing on the wound for her to stop the blood. Blood that smelled just like the one that coated my hands, my claws.
And then I remembered it. The voice, the darkness, the way I had slashed Aliya without mercy when she came at me in hopes of trying to make me feel better.
I recoiled even more into the wall, afraid of what I’d done, afraid of my own terrible self.
I covered my mouth as tears streamed down my face. How could I do that to her of all people? How
