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For it’s the tortured who inherit the sky, With gaping wounds, they learn to fly.
Also, what kind of professional Mafia driver, who was allegedly bringing us to the don that ran the city, didn’t carry around a black umbrella?
I would definitely go back on a vacation. Hopefully, they would forget about Aran eating the forbidden snack and me throwing my blood around like a parasite.
“Thank the sun god,” I said with relief and dropped my load as I walked through the door. Aran sputtered on the black welcome mat and looked around as she came back to consciousness. “Did you just drop me?
“Everyone, relax!” Then she gave a girlish squeal of delight and held up the black ferret like he was a prize. “This is Noodle. He is my new best friend.”
Serenity wasn’t the absence of conflict; it was the stillness within chaos.
“Drugs are bad and kill people.” I settled into bed beside her and took another long draw. “Oh please, we’re the only female role models they have. Might as well pretend to not be degenerates.”
“Don’t be so scrawny.” I gasped with hurt. “Take it back. You said my muscles were looking bigger, you lying cow.” “Moo, bitch.”
“We fucked up. It was all just to make you jealous. But you’ve always been ours. You’re my kitten,” Cobra whispered in my ear as I stared sadly at Xerxes. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep. “You will be punished for not choosing me, but I’ve never stopped owning you. How could I? You are my soul.”
“You can’t leave us with Aran,” voices wailed back, and we all cried harder at the thought of them being stuck with Aran.
Cobra’s tongue traced the shell of my ear. “You will tell me you love me too, Kitten. Or I will do things to your body that will make your time with Xerxes seem tame.” I gulped and leaned forward, cold air nipping at my exposed chest as I whispered back to Cobra, “Is that a threat or a promise?” Cobra hissed. “Oh, Kitten, it’s a fucking threat.”
If he told us we were getting tortured again, I was shoving a bread roll up his ass.
Cobra, who was walking past at that exact moment, tripped and slammed his face into the wall. “Buy that. Immediately,” he croaked.
“If you ever rule, you’re going to be a bloody dictator, aren’t you.” “One could fucking hope.”
“I fucking own your mind, body, and soul. Absolute ownership. You are my possession. My fucking everything.”
Kitten didn’t kowtow for any man.
Wtf
The closest solution I’d found to dealing with trauma was the pure elation of starting a new hobby project and not completing it.
It just sucked for them because it would be the last choice they ever made. I wasn’t going to graciously let them go, or some annoying weak woman bullshit. I’d made a plan. It was simple—if the men chose an omega after telling me they loved me, I would shoot them in the face. They were dead.
“Fine.” I leaned forward and snarled back, “I was going to kill you anyways.” A purring hiss rattled in his chest. “Oh, Kitten, don’t talk dirty to me in front of all these people,” he whispered huskily.
