Shame burned hot through my chest, but the oppressive heat kindled into rage and reminded me just who the fuck I was. My monster screamed. I’d faced down pompous elite fae men who made small talk at palace balls about the price of my virginity, joked about the tightness of my cunt, and asked Mother what methods she used to control me. Their vitriol meant nothing to me. They had no idea the war crimes I’d committed against my own mother; they had no idea my capacity for violence. I straightened my shoulders and refused to cow. Someday they’d see. For sun god’s sake, I had a literal monster
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