Conviction's King | Damian Book 1

Introduction

I hate myself. I don't... I don't deserve to be breathing. Not after all I've done. And she's... he has the one person I want. Need. There's not a bone in my body that doubts we were made for each other, but... even if I had her... I wouldn't deserve a single glance she casts my direction. It's so different than with Dametria. Amawa-na. Tamir wanted her. I didn't want to lose. And then when I had her... I did things I can't admit aloud. Not anymore.

She forgave me.

They both did.

Marriage. Ha... something I looked forward to when I was younger. I was a part of the Revli Tribe after all... but then I lost sight. I'd love to blame this all on Morgiana, but... casting blame onto someone else isn't the right thing to do. Not to me.

Not anymore.

I'm not a victim. I'm the villain. The bad guy that killed millions. Controlled and manipulated thousands. I stained my own hands with blood of innocents. I may have become one of Morgiana's puppets... but that doesn't give me a pass.

Even if she says I've changed.

Even if she is proud of me.

I still have a long way to go.

Nightmares plague me. Unlike her, unlike him, I am alone. I can't sleep. I can't eat.

I should die.

The moon shines bright, high above me, but I can't bring myself to look at it. I don't know why.

I just can't.

So I stare at the grass below, throat in knots. I will never have her. Never be worthy of having her. I'm not like him. He's strong in ways I'm not. He's sensitive. Says the right thing. Honest. Genuine. Charming. Funny. Charismatic. And I'm...

A killer.

I'm a killer and nothing else.

The darkness that's plagued me for so long is now devouring me from the inside out, staining the skin beneath my eyes and churning my stomach with illness.

Death waits eagerly for me.

And I don't mind. Not at this point in my life. So come and take me, death. I won't fight you.

Not anymore. Not that I've lost all meaning, all direction... all hope.

What has become of me?