The Wailing Woman

76. Phantom Heart

She stared back at him with red-rimmed eyes and quivering lips of fury. Her raven seamlessly blended with her thin veil. She was shrouded in darkness, in secrecy. But he saw the silhouette of her sharp-tipped ears. Always hiding. Except, for right now. Her gaze was locked with his, and she gave him that same look when she vowed revenge for her family—determined, reckless. It didn't surprise him that she looked as if she was ready to die and haunt him for all eternity.

And it terrified and amazed him how far she would go to get what she wanted. Grimm wished he could be the one to die, but he could not.

Immortality had never been a problem for him. He rarely felt time. But ever since he met Nora Del Luna, he counted every second, minute, hour, day, and night. During the hours he wasn't with her, he was seeking a solution to their problem. A way to make her immortal. Or him mortal. He didn't care about his losses, he only cared about being with her. But he had come to know Nora despised the world. She loathed it so much that she would either destroy it or end herself.

She rather liked to put herself in danger, and he found himself wondering if he should unleash another plague on the world. He imagined being with her at the end of the world. He thought about it quite often.

But he couldn't be by her side anymore. Not after Nora had eavesdropped on the conversation he was having with his sister. His hope of ever being with her has vanished. Nora knows about Morrígan but she doesn't know all of it. He was going to keep it that way. Because if he told her the whole truth, she would take it as another reason not to be here. The Capturer of Souls knew there was only one part he could play to prolong Nora's life.

A role he executed perfectly since he could remember. He gripped his scythe and pulled himself up.

He met her gaze, evenly. "This isn't what I wanted," he admitted one last truth before his tongue became a master of lies. "If only my sister hadn't come and revealed everything. I probably needed to wait a bit more, right? At least I can stop pretending. I'll admit it was fun and more so, recently but I'm getting bored. I want my power back." A flash of hurt passed through her eyes, then quickly erased it.

"All of this for power?" she echoed, chillingly.

Flickers of redness moved in and out of her brown eyes. He was awakening the demon inside of her. Good. He needed to push her some more. "My mother did warn you, didn't she? Or perhaps, the voices?" he tapped the side of his head. "Didn't she warn you about me? Oh, that's right, I'm immune to you." Cold harsh winds grazed his skin.

The snowflakes fell upon her veil and hair, like crystals. He remembered the first time he saw her. Heavens, she was captivating. The temperature dropped more. He briefly glanced at her hand—an icicle emerged with a death grip. Despite her injuries, Nora's wrath would prevail above anything else. He counted on it.

She pointed it at him. "Nobody is immune. Not even you." She threw her icicle at him, and he swiftly drew his scythe upward as the ice crushed against the steel blade like glass. It quickly dissolved on the ground. Nora marched forward, summoning another icicle and throwing it again. He blocked it again. "How could you do this to me?" she growled as she threw a larger icicle.

He moved backward as his scythe went upward, downward, horizontally, vertically, and diagonally.

Cutting. Crushing. Cutting. Crushing. Cutting. Over and over again.

She didn't stop attacking. "You lied to me! You cursed me! Why?" she yelled. "Was Morrígan your past lover or something? Is this what it's about?" What a disgusting assumption. Morrígan was not his lover. 

Far from it. 

Still, he did not attempt to correct her. "Did she reject you? She didn't want you and then what? Did you decide to curse her entire bloodline? I didn't take you to be such a sore fucking loser!" she fumed as she got closer and closer. "Do you know how exhausting it is to be this way? Listen, cry, and mourn. Repeat. Listen, cry, and mourn. Repeat. Why did you do it when you said you never hurt me? Is the poison also on your sweet words?"