The Reject: Your demons held you when no one would.

THE REJECT YOUR DEMONS HELD YOU WHEN NO ONE WOULD. ELDRIK LEWIS CONTENTS Prologue 1. Sunday December 21st 2014 2. Monday December 22nd 2014 3. Friday December 26th 2014 4. Sunday December 28th 2014 5. Wednesday December 31st 2014 6. Saturday January 3rd 2015 7. Monday January 5th 2015 8. Wednesday January 7th 2015 9. Saturday January 10th 2015 10. Friday January 16th 2015 11. Saturday January 17th 2015 12. Monday January 19th 2015 13. Saturday January 24th 2015 14. Wednesday January 28th 2015 15. Want More? PROLOGUE Elizabeth watched Cesare walk away as silent tears traced the lines of her face. She hated him, second only to her savage loathing of herself. He had to send that parting shot, to dig the knife in that little bit deeper. A nightmare of jagged terror capered through her soul at the thought he’d leave her. That he’d walk away and never come back. It was payback, a cut for the beating she’d given him. A bleeding slice to match the patchwork of weeping wounds she’d carved into him over the past few days. Pain made sadists of angels, and he was far from angelic. He wanted her to bleed like he bled. Oh, she understood him, not always, but when he was like this, she saw the hurt child that lashed out at the world. She wouldn’t entertain the possibility that he wouldn’t come back to her. Wouldn’t think about falling into the abyss of loneliness. Of eating alone night after night, drinking her tea in solitude because no one wanted her. She wouldn't let the fear of going back to a life of endless days with only lonelinesses growing roots to mark the days torture her. Not until she faced it. He was the only one who'd ever understood her. The only real friend she’d ever had. Everyone wanted something from her, power, position, prestige, they wanted what she could do for them. None had ever wanted her for what she was. For all his promises, she’d never made any to him. Knowing well that promises were dangerous things, weapons others used against you. She'd wanted tonight to be special, planning out the Rite weeks ago, making sure it was perfect. More than anything, she’d wanted to give him something special, to show her love for him. While she couldn’t be his lover, she could still be his friend. Every year she came out into the woods and performed the Yule Rite to the Old Ones. The Rite had once been a time of great magic’s, a fey moment when powers aligned for beginnings and eldritch tides pulsed wetly ready for new births. Gateways, weather, and mammoth workings were set into motion as the celestial door of the sun opened. But for centuries, the Old Ones hadn’t come to their call. These days the ritual was more symbolic, the great magic's lost to her race. Her people had become widowed wives staring out black windows into the cold, midnight sea, abandoned by the Old Ones that had birthed them. She wanted to share with Cesare what she’d only ever shared with Chthonic’s. To give him what she’d never given anyone. And after all her planning, she’d poisoned the night with grotesque truth. Elizabeth knew why she’d betrayed him to Sarah. A stupid act of saving face, nothing more than fears forked tongue. You could never tell with the Pythian’s. How could you ever trust a mind reader? Power corrupted. Sweet words can't change temptations lush curves and sin blessed eyes. To look into the depths of a mind not your own was tender meat even the strongest couldn't help feasting on. Elizabeth had panicked and said what needed saying, cutting with poisonous contempt. She’d done it instinctively, without thinking to the consequences of betrayal. Cesare would never know, so what did it matter what she said? This was to protect them both, to make sure Sarah didn’t pry into things that weren’t her business. How better to throw her off the scent than to degrade and humiliate Cesare? It wasn't betrayal if he never knew. Only it was. She’d turned that corner and come face to face with his despairing eyes. She’d seen the wound her casual words cut into his soul, had known that what she wanted to protect, she’d killed. A mother loves her baby, but sometimes a mother holds the baby too tight, snapping its neck. In trying to protect, she'd strangled the thing she treasured. There was no way to undo it. It was a truth as pure as Cesare’s black soul. Because for all his strength, Cesare had never learned to forgive. Without forgiveness, they'd never build back what she’d burned to the ground. The only way forward was to build on the wasteland of poisoned earth. If she’d been Alexandra or Anastasia, it would be simpler. He never expected them to be there for him. Never thought they would understand or care. He accepted that he was a convenient stepping stone in their lives. He’d expected more from Elizabeth. It had meant everything to her. He’d trusted her in a way he trusted no one else. Shared with her what he hadn’t given to anyone. They were memories she touched and caressed as often as the Origami animals he’d made her. Each memory a token of how special he thought she was. That he saw something extraordinary where she only saw a fat woman past her prime. With an almost physical effort, she turned her mind away from the desecrated land of those thoughts. The ritual … Now, that was something. The Old Ones didn’t come into the world beyond the forest Sanctuary, its darkling corridors hoary with their madness. But even in that place of brutal blessings, they didn’t show themselves, their influence a thing of murderous caresses and shifting shadows. All her people had were stories faded into myth of times when they joined the Rites of her people, nothing more than