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“Shut up, Aurelia,” Ferron said, his voice like ice, not even bothering to look over.
This is
Helena. “The war is over. What is it you think you’re protecting in that brain of yours?”
She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.” He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”
She was in her room. The house had not eaten her, because houses did not eat people.
“I’ll tell you if you swallow it like a good girl.”
He turned his hand. “Just an old piece.” He slipped it off and tossed it to her. She caught it reflexively, disappointed to discover that it wasn’t an unusual black metal at all, but a severely tarnished silver ring, as if he never took it off to care for it. It was
“Who are you?” she slurred through her teeth. Myriad emotions flashed across his face. He opened his mouth, then shut it firmly.
“Do I know you?” she asked as her eyes slid closed. “I suppose you do.”
“You irritate my wife,” he said. “Seems I do,” she said blandly. “If you want to do something about it, you could kill me.”
He met her stare, eyes glittering with a strange look of satisfaction. “Yes, he’s dying.”
All the ordinary tasks that never ended, not even when a war began. It had been women doing them. They would have
“Ferron always comes for me,” she whispered.
“Let me be very clear, then. I don’t want you. I never wanted you. I am not your friend. There is nothing I want more than the moment I’m finally done with you.”
She was dimly aware of her legs being lifted onto the bed, the duvet pulled over her. “I’m so sorry.”
They do not share. They are obsessive about what they regard to be theirs. You do this and Kaine Ferron will never let you go, and he will not be content with being secondary to anyone.”
