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It made sense that they called themselves kings. They were the worst type of people in all the realms—men who knew they were hot.
It was a fact of life that some people were blessed and not stressed. I hoped all those people got gonorrhea.
I flinched as I said it. I was starting to channel toxic masculinity a little too accurately. Oh my sun god? A horrible thought struck me. Was I becoming part of the patriarchy? Was I the problem?
The three fae kings were frothing at the mouth, trying to get me to reveal my secrets. Meanwhile I was detaching from reality and building the perfect man. Sun god, I loved being a woman.
Orion mouthed, “I don’t believe you.” My stomach fluttered like he was flirting with me. I needed to be put down.
When he disappeared out of sight, I turned to Malum. “Touch me again and you’ll lose your hand.” His hand lit on fire and scorched the shoulder of my shirt. “Oops,” Malum said like a mean girl before he released me. “Great.” I mimed gagging. “Now I have chlamydia.” “That’s not how that works.” “Sounds like something someone with chlamydia would say.”
“WHORE” could become “Whoreable Life,” or “Whores, drugs, and bitches.” Instantly I felt better. Now I just needed to find a tattoo artist.
How dare they assume I was a virgin that was into men. Was I a virgin? Yes. Was I into men? Yes.
