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If death was the absence of life, then a person was not truly dead if they haunted your every waking moment. And Mother stalked me. Every day. Every second. Every moment. There was no peace.
Scorpius scoffed, white eyes flashing. “Bull. Fucking. Shit. I bet a pretty boy like you hasn’t seen a day of hard work in his life. You’re going to get destroyed.” I gnawed on my lower lip and fought a smile as I ignored his blathering about me being privileged. Sun god help me; he thinks I’m pretty. Even though I was disguised as a boy, I wasn’t dead, and one of the hottest men I’d ever seen had just called me pretty.
The men stood up immediately like they were eager to please their master. Did they know he was nothing more than my mother’s man-whore? I took my time standing because I’d never been one to kowtow to authority figures, aka I had mommy issues. But it was more fun to just pretend I had a rebellious spirit.
“You’re gonna be dead in an hour,” he said casually, like he was trying to make small talk. I took a drag of my pipe. “One could hope.”
“You’re a human?” John nodded. “And what are you? A Smurf?” He gestured to my bright-blue hair. It was cut short, but my curls were an unruly mass. “I’m a fae,” I huffed, wondering if a Smurf was something terrifying like a demon.
Her scorn comforted me and halted my panic attack. For some reason, it was impossible to spiral when a child was degrading your character.
I’d never really thought about what I wanted in a male partner, but now I realized I wanted them to be completely unhinged. Like, super messed up in the head. I wanted to look at them and think, I’m normal. They would bring me flowers and tell me I was being cute when I killed someone.
But why did the kings have it tattooed? Oh no, I was starting to worry about what other people did with their bodies. I was truly becoming a man. At least you’re not the only one with words on your back. You could pretend “whore” means something in a different language. A chuckle burst from my throat.
Sex was hard work. “Ugh, I love aftercare with you!” I yelled just to make it clear that I was a considerate lover who cared about women, unlike all the men.
