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“I’m simply going to lock you up, killer. If I have to chain you to my fucking bed to keep you alive, I will not hesitate.”
“It’s important to me,” I continue weakly. “What? You don’t believe that a family can be a girl and her pink stuffed penguin?” “I emphatically do not.” “You’re so bigoted.” “Glad you finally noticed.”
As much as I’d love to stab him, his scent is safe and warm, as shrouding and all-consuming as the Douglas fir.
Her laughter adjusts the spin of his atoms.
There’s no need to treat him like a fuckboy.” Three pairs of eyes blink at me. From behind me, Koen asks, “A what?” “A fuckboy. Just, you know. A boy. Who fucks.” God, Misery’s right. Some things simply do not translate to the Weres.
There could be room for me, in the life of a man with that face.
He wants to show her every corner of his territory. The deep blue lakes and the snow-capped peaks. Moss-draped trees and rock spires. He wants to be with her for each marveled intake of breath.
He easily resigned himself to a lifetime without her, but… Simply put, he is unwilling to contemplate a universe in which she no longer exists.
I want to touch him, so much so, I’m not sure it’s allowed. There has to be a limit to how much we crave. Can’t approach infinity, or it’ll stretch us too thin.
There has never been anyone like him. I could live a thousand more years, and there will never be.
