The Blood We Crave: Part Two (The Hollow Boys, #4)

by Monty Jay

Wholly, utterly obsessed with my little stalker.

I never expected that I’d want to be hers, though. That I wanted to belong to her just as much as she belonged to me.

If it makes me weak to crave her, then let me be weak. Being strong means nothing if I can’t have her.

She is my obsessed angel, and I am her possessive god.

How could I have ever wanted her anything but alive and mine?

“I don’t want to be perfect if it means I have to live without you.”

BROOOOO <333

“I’ll buy you a million more.” Whatever she wants, she will have it. I’d give her the world if she asked me for it.

“You can take it, baby. You’re doing so good for me, pretty thing.”

s(creaming)

The world is changed because you are made of midnights and crimson. The curves of your lips rewrite my purpose.—T.

STOPPI LOVE HIM

“I swear, Thatcher, if he is the reason I lose you, I will kill him. Do you understand that?”

And if she is the reason for my downfall? So be it. I’d let her do it. Hand her the knife myself and let her finish this legacy. The Pierson line could die with me.

Of course she would slay her own monsters. My girl is a knife; brutal, unforgiving, beautiful.

But a little carnage never scared me. Nothing about Lyra Abbott would ever make me fear her.

That the me I was always meant to become is who I am with her.

I don’t really care where I end up. As long as darling phantom is there with me. I want to spend lifetimes beside her, and I’ve wasted too much of our time already.

Four bastard sons who found comfort in each other’s chaos.

“I want a constant reminder of who my home is.”

“I want to look at your mark every day so that I never forget the parts of me that have always belonged to you, darling phantom.”

“I guess you’re not interested in playing the good guy? The hero?” she snips. I laugh, cold and distant. “Not when morally gray looks this good on me.”

hell yea

Her dreams are mine. Her goals are mine. She is my hope.

“Thank you for loving me with what remained.” “Thank you for letting me be your ghost. For seeing me,”

“If any of you try to hug me,” I warn, glancing at each of them, “I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

If she wanted my heart, I’d give it to her. She could keep it on a shelf in one of her jars—it was never mine to begin with. Not when it’s always been hers.

I’ll follow you to the grave every time and find you in each life after.”