Deric
The worst part wasn’t that Ava was crying. It was the way she looked at me, like I was already dead.
Her fingers clutched the front of my shirt like she was holding onto the last strand of sanity she had left. “Please don’t do this,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You don’t have to go. You don’t owe him anything, Deric.”
But I did. Not to her father, but to her. Because if stepping into hell meant she stayed safe on the other side, then so be it.
“I’ll be fine.” I brushed her cheek with my thumb, memorizing the warmth of her skin, the subtle tremble of her jaw. “This is the only way I can protect you.”
Ava’s lips quivered. “What if he finds out what you are? What if he—”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” I cut in gently, though my stomach was churning. “I’m not going in there w
