Wearing the Monster Again
Colson POV Ezra was watching me too closely. That alone told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t looking at the girls. He wasn’t looking at the blood. He wasn’t looking at the results. He was looking at me. Not like a master admiring his weapon. Like a master checking for cracks. That smile on his face—the slow, deliberate curve of satisfaction—was a lie. Ezra never smiled without purpose. He never showed approval unless he was baiting something deeper. He was waiting. Testing. Peeling back layers he couldn’t yet see clearly. And the worst part? He knew me well enough to know when something had shifted. I stood in the center of the underground chamber, the air thick with the smell of fear, blood, and damp stone. The torches flickered along the walls, their flames bending
- Writer
