Chapter 1 — Zayden

She wasn’t supposed to fascinate me.

Adelise was supposed to be a tool—something sharp and useful, like a knife you keep in your pocket for when words fail. When I first saw her, she was standing over a man’s body, her hands painted red. The blood was still warm, running between her fingers like melted glass. She didn’t cry. Didn’t flinch. She just smiled—soft and eerie, like a child admiring her own masterpiece. That’s when I knew she was perfect.

People like her are rare. Fragile minds with violent hands. All they need is someone to guide their chaos—and I’ve always been good at guiding.

“Do you regret it?” I asked that night, stepping closer. The alley smelled of rain and metal. She turned her head, eyes catching the faint light like broken glass.

“Do you?” she asked back, voice calm, curious.

I smiled. “No. But you could’ve done it cleaner.”

That was the beginning.

Now, weeks later, she follows me like a shadow—silent, obedient, hungry for approval. I give her purpose. She gives me results. When I say go, she kills. When I say stop, she smiles and waits for my next command. She doesn’t understand that I’m not her savior. I’m the one sharpening the blade she’s become.

Aven wouldn’t understand this side of me. She still believes I’m someone worth saving, that my silence hides sorrow instead of sin. She thinks I’m calmer lately, softer, maybe even in love. She doesn’t realize the reason I sleep better now is because Adelise exists.

I look at my phone. A new message from her: “Do you want him dead or broken?”

I pause, considering. The man deserves pain, not peace. “Broken,” I type back.

Her reply comes fast—just a simple smiley face.

It’s almost funny. Somewhere between control and destruction, I feel something stir in me. Not guilt. Not love. Just… interest. Watching her is like watching fire consume dry wood—terrible and beautiful, unstoppable once lit.

She calls me Zayden with that little spark in her tone, like I’m something divine. She doesn’t see the disgust in my eyes when she looks too long, too deep. Maybe that’s why I keep her close. It’s easier to use someone who mistakes your cruelty for affection.

I never lie to Aven outright. I just give her the version of me she wants—the one who holds her gently, promises safety, whispers that she’s my only. She believes it because she wants to. And I let her.

But in the spaces between those lies, I build my empire from shadows. Adelise is my most dangerous piece. My beautiful weapon. My pawn.

Maybe one day she’ll realize she’s being played. Maybe one day she’ll turn her knife on me.

Until then, I’ll keep smiling.

Because monsters like us don’t fall in love.

We just learn to use whoever does.

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