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There are dozens more leading this country into the ground. The districts are suffocating, Kat. People are suffering. And I don’t see another way forward.”
“Welcome to the Winter Carnival of Devil's Lake,” Malachi says, stepping beside me, his hands slipping casually into his pockets as he watches me take it all in. “Devil's Lake?” I repeat, the name snagging my attention. “Yeah,” he says with a mischievous grin. “Isn’t it fitting I bring my very own little demon to a town called Devil's Lake?”
His eyes darken, but he doesn’t flinch. “Too many to count,” he admits. “But all of them deserved it. I only kill bad men who do bad things.” There’s no hesitation, no trace of guilt, and I don’t push further. I believe him. Maybe I’m desensitized to a lot after living with Marco all these years, but I’m more turned on by the fact that Malachi will kill to protect—kill those who have harmed women and children, those who deserve punishment—than I am afraid of it. If this is a red flag, it’s one I accept openly.
